milk and eggs
this girl
got bold eyes
and she hide them
behind cool shades.
this girl cool.
this girl,
she look at the men
and she look at the women, too
this girl don't care that they see
they see black
they see sky looking back
see their own ideas
don't see them bold eyes
but they know
they feel that
in their skin
the small of their back
shoot through them
that look
those eyes
bold eyes
this girl
she smile
she walk on
a thousand adulteries of the heart
twelve of the mind
milk and eggs
back home for tea
Mairi Graham-Shaw
© 2015
Image links to its source on Wiki Commons
Kniende in orange-rotem Kleid (Kneeling Female in Orange-Red Dress) - drawing; 1910: Egon Schiele
Public domain
black veil blues #1
and her?
she was born a widow
pushed out into this world
bawling and broken
she was alone before you knew her
before she knew you
knew your body
blood beating
pulsing praying pushing
and cold
still
ash on her fingers
ash in the wind
before that, she was alone.
children played at house
cops and robbers
bonnie and clyde
she practised loneliness
until it was an art
after you knew her
she drew the curtains shut
let no light in
held the memory of it in her hands
smelled myrrh
let it run between her fingers
nails lacquered to a high black shine
stored in enamel boxes
wept on fridays
she was born a widow.
the gift you gave her?
realisation of her self
blossoming whole
dead browning bloom
Mairi Graham-Shaw
© 2015
Image links to its source on Wiki Commons
Else Sehrig-Vehling: “Drawing of a Woman” - undated.
Wiki Commons asserts Public Domain
pick it up
A/N: Thank you to S. for putting in the line breaks for me.
she dropped a beat somewhere early in this slate sky early late winter day
and forgot in all the chaos to pick it back up
half eight and she's banging down on her boyfriend's door,
man, don't you know this kid ain't gonna drive herself to school?
and the beat pulses in her pocket like a dead man's missing heart
while he shuffles sleepy and sheepish looking for shoes
one two one two one two and
the way the world spins turns whirls
(faster than men's heads when she come by in those jeans)
drops her from where she was dropping off her daughter
pico de gallo burrito warm kiss on cold air
at tzarich cama devar ken aval ma?
And she hit the ground,
less like an egg hits the floor -
with all the urgency and bruises of a lockdown drill -
and less of the shatter of glass on pavement but more like
one two one two one
one
one two
and can't shake that sick feeling of something lost forever
she's choking on her own thoughts by four
like they're dry swallowed pills,
dry heave at the bitter taste and constricted throat
and the world, it don't care if she wanna get off
the cold is forever, she says
because in hell even permanence be some comfort to the damned
cold is forever, she says
gulps down ice like ocean death like nicotine like that kiss she can't have
one two one two
slam of horns slam of breaks loss of light loss of life
spin like you want a simple gift
spin til you outspin the sick stomach and spin again until you drop break fall
on your knees with your hands in the air the only way the world gonna take you
don't bother
don't even front
ain't no other way
and don't say that hard cold gravel pavement frozen ground wet grass don't feel a little bit like redemption soakin through your stockings don't don't even
maybe
like a dropped penny it's there
in the grass
on your knees
hands up
only way you take the world
one
one two
one two one two one two
pick it up child
breathe
one two one two one two one two ...
Mairi Graham-Shaw
© 2014
Image links to its source on Wiki Commons
“foto 1” - Augusto De Luca
This file is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.0 Generic license.
love poem
between nine o'clock and midnight
five thirty a.m. and just past eight
those are the witching hours
when my phone won't stop buzzing
and neither will my skin
raw with your imagined touch
when you could never bear to touch me
and my cursed flesh would burn
and all the things i want to tell you
swirl around in my mind
and in the cigarette smoke at the bus stop
in the breath that rises to God
on a cold morning
like all my pick up lines are for His ears only
and not for yours
every hell the doorway to a higher heaven,
i want to tell you
like dante
you always know what i mean
sometimes we don't talk for days
because we already know
what we would have said
my skin buzzes anyway
i crawled my way out of the first one
like out of a fresh dug grave
and my finger nails were bleeding when
i finally found the frosted air above
i wasn't buried alive
but pulled myself, dirty,
from the frozen ground
and came to life
you know i didn't come back for you
but still,
it could be nice sometimes,
if we pretend
Mairi Graham-Shaw
© 2014
Image links to its source on Wiki Commons
"Bohley Eingeschlossene", ein Werk von Annemirl Bauer (1939-1989) aus dem Jahr 1984, in dem sie wegen ihres Eintretens für Reisefreiheit und für die Bürgerrechtlerin Bärbel Bohley aus dem Künstlerverband der DDR ausgeschlossen wurde
1984
Copyleft: This work of art is free; you can redistribute it and/or modify it according to terms of the Free Art License. You will find a specimen of this license on the Copyleft Attitude site as well as on other sites.
a prayer for greater rains and smaller floods
oh Lord of great waters
mighty King
riding mounted on many storms
You who consumed swirling chaos
who thunders like a river freed
loose this day your cascade
justice and mercy, molten and alive
healing pouring down from heavy clouds
grant peace oh Lord
to the worms on the pavement
the crushed petunias
and the picnics
give them rest in Your light
grant peace to my soul, Lord
in the hiss of traffic through rain
the beat of water on window
fresh wet asphalt smell through an open door
remember to us, oh Lord of the deluge
Your terrible flood
Your wonderful destruction
remember to us, oh Lord
Your cleansing fires to come
in these
Your great rains and small floods
Mairi Graham-Shaw
© 2014
Image links to its source on Wiki Commons.
William Blake: "The Lord Answering Job Out of the Whirlwind," from the Butts set. Pen and black ink, gray wash, and watercolour, over traces of graphite. 1805
Public domain
'bird call valley'
A man at ease: flowers fall.
The night is tranquil, spring mountain empty.
Moonrise startles mountain birds
sometimes heard within the valley.
Mairi Graham-Shaw, after Wang Wei
translation © 2013
Image from Wiki Commons: ink on silk, attributed to Xia Gui, 13th century "Rapids in a Mountain Valley"
that day
here in the last days
things are beautiful
we still know pain
but things are beautiful
pray that the end does not come on the Sabbath
because that day
i will be baking
sweet butter sugar smell
permeating heated household air
and cinnamon, and rum
and my lovers
will be making love
knowing each other's body
like i know the curves of the crucifix
the prayer in my mouth
the road to the city
she arches back
pushing closer
and i imagine her
as full
as the blue glass bowl
where red dye fruit
strong liquour
and dough
are coming together
into the bread of life
and my lovers
making love
will be coming together
and my children
frosting cookies
do not know
they have not taken the fruit
they do not know
the soundless sighs
the nails he digs into her skin
rendering red across her back
the spasm shaking of the earth
the labour pains of the world
the tight contractions of her around him
they do not know
all this will be washed away
long before they themselves
know lovers
but pray the end does not come
on the Sabbath.
that day,
i will be baking
Mairi Graham-Shaw
© 2013
Image from Wiki Commons:
Sebastian Stoskppff: Nature morte aux fruits, fromage et pain (Still Life with fruit, cheese and bread) - mid 17th century
Public domain
blood hymn
my God
likes him some destruction
sodom and gommorah style
He says
you gotta beat 'em
til they stop moving
and then some
only through blood
and broken bodies
on the far side
of that all too carnal war
only there
is His joy
and your salvation
and His angels
have scars
that are mountains and valleys
and they count them
like blessings
but i said,
listen
Father
and i said
something about flies
and vinegar
and i said
can't you cut them
some slack ?
actually,
some fucking slack
and i wasn't really talking about
syria, or cancer, or anything
just about you
some fucking slack,
i said
some things are fragile
breakable, you know
handle with care
with fucking care,
actually
and He said
yeah
but isn't it neat
how many directions
the shards fly in
when they shatter?
and i said yeah,
and get stuck in my foot
i said
actually,
get stuck in my fucking foot
(He smiled,
at that)
Mairi Graham-Shaw
© 2013
Image links to its source on Wiki Commons - public domain image
Pieter Bruegel the Elder - The Fall of the Rebel Angels (1562)
Thanks, Mairi : )
psalm
I give you the wings of an angel
and make you to soar to great heights
unlike icarus
you are free to touch the sun
and I drop the currents of the air
send you to plummet into the cresting waves
and the depths of the sea
it is I who put the air into your lungs
and I will take it out again
you breathe as I will it
as though My hand were around your neck
to crush and release you
as only I desire it
You are My child
and My touch is on you
in the rain
which falls on your brow
as a seal to bind you
to My heart
I will give you
and I will take you away again
I water the garden
but you must work the earth
Mairi Graham-Shaw
© 2013
Image links to its source on Wiki Commons
The Garden of Earthly Delights, inner left wing (Paradise) - Hieronymus Bosch
(between 1480 and 1505)
public domain
astral pickup truck
the girl
with the astral pickup truck
might be kind of a redneck
because she says 'y'all' a lot
and she thinks those jeans
are an outfit
but her exhaust
sinks down to earth
as fog
rolling off your bay
and she drives on roads
even satellites can't see
there's an angel riding shotgun
and nowhere she can't go
tomorrow
tonight
you sleep
they park
their red pickup truck
over your dreams
and
they fuck in the bed
regardless of the shovel
tarp
and salvaged stars
Mairi Graham-Shaw
© 2012-the present
Image links to its source at Wiki Commons
Fish Market At Intersection Of Illinois. 100 And U.S. 36 (1973) – National Archives & Records Administration; public domain
amnesia 4 (physics and flow)
like the smoke
that parts from her lips
and has no more cohesion
unity and sense lost
to air flows and physics
and a butterfly
no sooner landing
than taking off
so her thoughts
even those most intimate
imagings of self
are no sooner thought
than gone
Mairi Graham-Shaw
© 2013
Image links to its source on Wiki Commons
"Cabbages & Butterflies" – Nianyi (Chinese, active ca. 15th-16th century) – ink & color on silk
Public domain
life takes blood
and blood takes life
it's the only real circle
she says, with a laugh
that's only a little bitter
a touch too sweet
you heard about her
from a woman who drinks
with the grandfather
of your friend's friend
from down the block
so here you are
(down more than one block)
where she holds court with no one
gesticulating smoke
and menacing you
with a can of beer
you brought her offerings
out of necessity if not respect
most of a bottle of jack
a pack of unfiltered camels
a lock of hair
(it's not really yours
but you can both pretend)
you just hope it's enough
it's not like you have more
(you wouldn't be here
if you weren't desperate)
she takes what you have
laughing like she's taking you
(she probably is
this is probably a scam)
and promises you
that life takes blood
and blood takes life
Mairi Graham-Shaw
© 2013
Image links to its source on Wiki Commons
Kniende in orange-rotem Kleid (Kneeling Female in Orange-Red Dress): Egon Schiele - 1910
public domain
as a bird longs for land
searching
over the endless waters
so my heart turns
and turns again
seeking south
(for north
is never true)
Mairi Graham-Shaw
© 2013
Image links to its source on Wiki Commons.
"Noah sends off a dove from the ark." Miniature on vellum; from Aegidius of Roya's "Compendium historiae universalis" of Southern Netherlands (manuscript "Den Haag, MMW, 10 A 21")C. 1450-1460
notes from a past life
we go in the dark
motley little parade
she's not even awake
'are we sleeping?'
'you are'
mcdonald's
in the dead hours
the waiting room quality of light
salt and sticky
nothing smells
like night
and jasmine
Mairi Graham-Shaw
© 2013
Image links to it source on Wiki Commons
Cestrum nocturnum Blanco (Night-Booming Jasmine) from Flora de Filipinas by Francisco Manuel Blanco, circa 1880 – public domain
hallelujah
the dark shadow of God
in your face
your eyes
and i dare not look away
not blaming
lot's wife
as the world spins
to darkness, and pain
my last ragged breath
remains a prayer
Mairi Graham-Shaw
© 2012
Image links to its source on Wiki Commons
Lot leaving Sodom, Woodcut from the Nuremberg Chronicle (1493)
public domain
reflections
the mirror is a two sided coin
showing me, as i dress
(up, like the girl i'm not)
but this parody
of someone else's woman
isn't all i don't want to see
behind my lipstick
up-do, pearls
lurk worse things
than prostitution
the shadow watching over my shoulder
spares sardonic sartorial remarks.
it knows where i sleep,
where my children sleep
and i, i am half grateful
for my knowledge
for the dirt beneath my nails
my impatience
and the inelegant wobble
of my heels
half wishing it all away
so what i see in darkness
i could call a nightmare
so i could pin diamonds
without seeing blood
Mairi Graham-Shaw
© 2012
Image links to its source
Porträt von Wally (1912): Egon Schiele – Wiki Commons – public domain
intent unspoken
here the breaking of the bread
veiled in context of their stark hotel room
as she undoes her belt
he his buttons
he a poor and broken god
coming to her
in the shedding of clothes
the wary looks
quiet gestures
intent unspoken
this is my broken body,
for you
take this
for the forgiveness
of whose sins?
Mairi Graham-Shaw
© 2012
Image links to its source on Wiki Commons
Egon Schiele: Schieles Wohnzimmer in Neulengbach - 1911, Public Domain
untitled
the girl who sees the rain
sees your death in the steam
sees the turning of the wheel
the clear note of a bell
the steam
not having risen yet
tells the story
while the wheel turns
putting you on the bottom
the bell
final
tea's ready
the heat can burn
her tongue
the pain away
Mairi Graham-Shaw
© 2012
Image links to its source
The Wheel of Fortune, Visconti-Sforza Tarot Deck, 15th century: Wiki Commons – public domain
that light
God how I yearned for you
after the floods
how you haunted me
breaking under the waves
night after night
the tears cried for you
knees aching on the hard stone floor
the beads said
cold under my fingers
light perpetual on your face
no consolation
but God is merciful
(tainted with irony, but merciful)
and you were my gift
brought back
in the long watches of the night
to walk through my door like Elijah
and I had set you a place
it would seem ungrateful to complain
with you under my hands
under me
in some sick way spared
consigned to my desperate kisses
corn bread
all my promises and praise
(when none of it
could hold a candle
to that light)
Mairi Graham-Shaw
© 2012
Image links to its source on Wiki Commons
"Prophet Elijah in the Desert"[between 1464 and 1468] - Dieric Bouts
public domain
the easy out
and just when
you thought you'd failed
lay in the ashes
of your own apparent ruins
putting embers out
on the pads of your fingers
and searching for
the easy out
then
redemption comes swelling
courses through
like the tide over sand
swells through your body
leaves you
now truly destroyed
and
on the brink of strength
Mairi Graham-Shaw
© 2012
Image links to source
Caspar David Friedrich, Monk By the Sea – 1809: Wiki Commons, public domain
