Monday, December 17, 2012

A story of the singing gut


A story of the singing gut
grace gutekanst

Strolling down Savannah streets
covered in moss-blown trees 
and warm air balancing
between ancient buildings
and a southern beach that whispers to the 
grains inching there way to foam lips

I'm not supposed to be alone
He told me he'd drive me home safely
I don't need safety

I focus on signs 
while my feet chant to each other
after the other
after the other
after the other

Music starts and stops in my head
I'm singing loudly
It's 3am
But even the street can't hear me
My arms swing 
to help my elbows forget they exist
And..

"Nice voice beautiful" shouts out

There's no one on the street.
I continue to sing.
Then I look up
to find blue eyes

What's your choice?


I hear train tracks gargle metal
the smell of traveling food heated,
doused with sauce to hide what's inside
I glance at people who don't talk 
And one's dressed up,
catering to their equals, 
so they can afford to live
I feel myself uncontrollably moving 
cold air rushing to my calves
Navy blue curtains sway 
Old tea stains on paper placecloths
Squeaks emerge in-tune with the random bumps 
but hardly noticable anymore
Up ahead I read an exit sign,
a green graphic person

But who would escape?
We are moving
Fast pace 
Fast enough to die from an exit escape
So if something were to really happen
We either die inside
or risk dying on our own outside
I guess it just depends on what type of passenger you are

But most of them are asleep.

Saturday, November 24, 2012

Please


Please
grace gutekanst

please tell me why my trees are bleeding?
I try to catch the blood
sticky on my fingers
and thicker than the mud
all the world's reflection 
in the crimson puddles
please embark
remark
on how it makes you feel
please reveal your pain 
so together we will heal
And save the bleeding trees 

Monday, November 5, 2012

Melancholy Marine


Melancholy Marine


I was the only one to see him.  He stood so still.  He stood so small.  He stood so precious.  I could only see his profile but I remember his eye omniscient and dark.  I glanced over with a crooked smile.  He looked nowhere.  My hand held up my head, my eyes peering transfixed on the creature.  Slowly he turned his fluffy face and I gasped.  I noticed his eye socket protruding from his face, his fur ripped, smashed.  He started twitching and I started screaming. "OH NO! OH NO!"  My eyes squinted and worried wrinkles enveloped my forehead.  He started to twitch more, and more, and more, conveying an endless struggle.  And the more he twitched, the more I watched, and the more I watched, the more my insides twisted and cringed.  I thought he was going to stop, but he didn't. He just didn't.  He just kept jerking and trembling.  "PLEASE STOP", I yelled "PLEASE STOP!"  But my words were as useless as a cry from the deep sea. I felt like I was sinking, farther, farther down.  And each gasp filled my lungs with water, and while I watched my eyes stung with chlorine.  We were suffering, suffering, suffering, both him and I.  I wished to relieve his pain.  I watched crimson; I watched rust; I watched wine drip from mangled wounds. He was distant and disjointed.  My insides kept tightening with agony. I was twisting, twisting tighter and tighter while goosebumps ran across the landscape of my forearms.  I closed my distressed eyelids and cringed, my jaw clamping tight.  Then I shouted, "PLEASE, PLEASE LORD LET HIM NOT SUFFER ANYMORE".  My screaming paired with his silence made the world seem cold.  It was a cold deep sea collapsing in my lungs.  And I didn't want him to just sit by the side of the road, half destroyed, half frozen for cars to gawk at him while he remained suffering to death.  His fluff delicately moving in the breeze, his tiny soft paws were tucked under his umber fur.  His left side seemed ordinary, but the right was repulsive.  He just twitched like he was enduring multiple seizures over and over and over, and his body was in shock and so close to the road and I wanted to kill him to stop the pain. I wanted to kill to stop the pain. We want to kill to stop the pain.  I sat in idol traffic dwelling over the critter's aches I could not relieve.  The car moved forward and I remained silent from behind the glass for six years.  


-grace gutekanst

Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Blanket


                                             the blanket protects
                                               keeps me warm,
                                                  them warm

I'm half asleep 
and listening

"thank you"
"thank you"
"thank you"

chanting murmurs
slowly, softly

it comes and goes
but while their sleeping

the blanket gets heavier,
thicker

warmer and warmer 
hibernating society

                                                                              scars accumulate
                                                                          inside soldier's skin 
                                                                                              invisible
                                                                                              for some

                                                                                 chucking hearts
                                                                                  out of ballparks
                                                                                      a grand slam
                                                                                    over the fence
                                                                    never to be seen again

                                                the family ruiting for the other team
                                                                                                     cries
                                                               while opposite fans cheer
                                                                         noticing their victory
                                                                more than the others loss
                                                    hearts pulverized over the fence
                                                                                  more and more
                                                                                              battered;
                                                                                             thrashed


                                          and the bodies
                                               pile high
                                             to make us
                                warmer, warmer, warmer
                                        canopy cadaver 




-graceHgutekanst

An Immersed Artist Without a Spine


An Immersed Artist
Without a Spine
grace gutekanst



Tethered to time
a rapid routine
heart pumping
through wrists
slicing my sole
to save my sole
I'm floating in pools of crystalized liquid

(while they float 
 still;
cold powder blue
inanimate)

glazing my face
a blurred atmosphere
behind prussian blue undertones
of eyelids
peaceful puddles of me
detached head to the heavens
ripples impel my severed neck 
hair pushing
pulling with subtle delight
of the distant trails of others
charging into polluted territories

blind


remote past
suppress the future
anchor phalanges  
to the bottom of the sea
hooked and sewn
to sing
without voices
in harmony with the choral
then pour my face into a jar
drown it in paint
before hesitance dances
and darkness clouds us all
this prolonged war.

24 hour nocturnal girl.



24 hour nocturnal girl.
grace gutekanst

I'm in the wrong mood to be writing a poem.
The wrong mood.
I want to rip my skin off
A puddle on the floor
Just a skeleton of bones
Curling up in a hole
Leave me alone.
Let me crack my head and ooze information 
Let my mind revert to a child's
Let my fingernails peel off like worn tape
Today I don't feel like being me
Tomorrow might be different

But for now
let me be raw and solemn

To make my mouth move
I'd need a million little strings
sewn to my upper lip
like a curtain to a play
Right now I'm dark, closed
and the show hasn't started
The amount of energy to tug at the strings
my lazy lips-

I can't even finish my thoughts.

Maybe my body is still asleep
My walking unconscious
Let me be a zombie today
Let my arms lay limp
Let my eyes glaze over
Let my face freeze in time
Let my spine have a break
from holding up my persona

Preserve my heart until tomorrow
My interior is wilting
Collapsing strength
Let my body break down
Put the factory on hold
Let pumping blood turn stale

I don't want to confine
Or define
Just release
Float me out to sea
Unraveling intestines
A drifting corpse
Cut open and cold
Come Wednesday I'll be re-sewn
To read this poem
But for now...
Postpone surgery on my soul