J. James Martinez

Death My Pen Has Become

Too heavy is her shadow
Too thick is this meadow
These hills and streets feeling
Archaic and shallow

Too brilliant to be black
I’ve come too far to go back
Yet it’s
Too lavish to get past

Here I am sitting
Seething and truculent
Fed up and focused
That face
I’m stuck with it
Drawn under my lids in ink and lipstick

Come the first and last of
Any given
While you sit
Comfortably surrounded by fair weather fanfare
Twiddling their thumbs
Twirling their hair

Take a second


Take a look
I’ll be there
From way over here
Outside behind the trees
They were my thorny arms hugging
Loving the sewn up
Spit on and kicked
Sugar sweet and vinegar tart girl
I know you hide
Under the idea of the woman you seem to be

When the time comes
Pick up these pages I’ve spent my time compiling

Cradle my first-born
Given your horns to gorge and destroy
Written in your name
With my red and tears

Death my pen has become
And you are the next to be written

This is a black and red
Salty as the sea scream

I hope it breaks your heart
Steals your breath

© J. James Martinez

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, October 19, 2008

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Rudyard Kipling


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