Wolf's Bastard (and Other Poems)

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This has been a frustrating morning!
!!!

I just spent the last half-hour trying to apply for one goddamn government job.
I had to make a new fucking account.

Which I doubt I'll ever be able to get back to.

I hate it.

I hate them all!


<*deep breath*>


And on that cheery note...


Gods... This is so frustrating. I seriously just want to throw tantrums and hit things and yell at people for not just *finding* me work when it's *their* job to do that.
Which sounds totally unreasonable, even when you consider that I'm working through agencies.


God!

I'm very frustrated and very angry and I DON'T WANT TO HAVE TO FUCKING SETTLE!!!
I've been 'settling' for years, living in unhappy, isolated circumstances, in a situation I fucking despise!
Why the hell should I have to settle for the lousy job and the crappy, overpriced appartment.
Why the hell should I have to sell my beautiful, hand-me-down furniture to live in substandard, too-small housing with a lousy-assed landlord who'll treat me badly and smoke in my house???
I've done that every fucking time I've lived outside of my wretched mother's wretched control, and it's always ended up miserable and wrong.
I don't want to do that anymore.
I don't want to settle anymore.
I don't want to take what I can get anymore.
I'm tired as hell of thinking that I'm not worth enough, that I don't deserve something good from the goddamn world.
Why the hell wouldn't I be?


Also: There is an airconditioner directly over my head, and I am cold.

<*puts on shawl*>


See? I could fix that.

<*settles feathers a bit*>


<*sigh*>

So, I'm pissed off. (Gee, what gave that away...)

And I'm reading The Twelve Wild Swans (Starhawk) which isn't doing a whole hell of a lot right now, because I started midway through (having started reading it a year ago or more). So I think I need to go back to the beginning on that one.


On the plus side, I've been writing some more poetry.
With intent, no less. They are, for the most part, works in progress. Please feel free to comment and critique. :-)

Behold:



Longing
There are mermaids
down there, under the waves
slippery, blue-black skin and
fluked tails
their voices are whalesong

they sing

but not for me

*~*~*~*~*

Narcisus

I have eye'd my own
reflection, gazed
long and lingering, in the mirror
(flirtatious quirks of mouth and brow)
raw lust in my eyes
for the sake
pure and simple
of having someone
anyone
look at me like that
and me, able to look back.

*~*~*~~*~*

The Selkie

The stories always say that we're taken by force
or trickery
that they steel our seal
skins and hide
them when we're not looking
that no woman (wild as ocean waves)
would ever follow
willingly

(that's what we tell ourselves)

Oh, we're careful
at the dances
take no chances that some man could come
upon us unawares
we watch for them the way we watch for whales
and hide our second skins under sea-slick stones

We keep ourselves separte
and safe

but what if one of us did go
willingly?
what if it was me?
what if one glimpse of him rendered
calm seas too caprecious and
made me ache for the certainty of
solid ground
solid arms

what if
he held out his hand?

what if I took it?

*~*~*~*~*

Sushi

His family approves
his choice,
his dark-haired, comely
wife
velvet eyes downcast

smiling demurely

they don't notice that
my teeth are sharp
my jaws are made for
snapping

they think I have a penchant for
sushi
truth is
I used to eat fish raw

and bleeding

*~*~*~*~*

Lunch with the Bleeding Pen Crowd

We were out
the four of us (poets all)
for lunch. he tried
to kiss me
tried
but i held up my hand
and with a wink and a smirk, said
don't push it

we laughed
he and i and all the rest
of us, and
we were fine
fine
and i thought: how fine
to dine, out and about
with strangers
who adore you
enough to let you be
if you demand it

*~*~*~*~*

On seeing the photograph of Susan Musgrave on the cover of her book Tarts and Muggers: New and Selected Poems.


Wolf's Bastard

Susan--
she pauses
looks
up from the bone
she's gnawing
she's got that look
in her eyes again
that feral light - unsettling - in her gaze
which settles
briefly
on the curtains
thick, shut tight
against the night, and the changes it will bring
if we dare to let it in

when she looks back, she grins,
thick, dark
mane falling around her too pale face,
her smile (half guilty, half joking) says
you wouldn't reeeeeeeeeeally stop me,

would you?

imp.

she knows i miss the moonlight
as much as she does.

*~*~*~*~*



So that's my poetry for today. Two or three for the Selkie collection, and three more for whatever they end up in. :-)

Your help is appreciated. :-)

- TTFN,
- Amazon. :-)