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Fingers open the pea pods on my grandparents back porch
a mudra repeated year after year when combines pull up vines
and pour the peas into the tractors for baby food.

Now shelling peas at work for dinner I look at my nails.
Long. Dirty.
An hour later they are clean short and unchanged.
The shadowed hall way echoes the full silence of absent youth.

I look for the peas in the shells
they stay thick even empty
peas dried from too long in the shell

Trauma

Crying everyday and trying not to burst out laughing.
The insane mind claws at my throat in knots laughing.

Half dark, brown theatre with a brightly lit screen.
I sat near a man who could not stop laughing.

Sadness has stripped them of their sanity and their explanations.
They hear a blank joke, without humor, just caught laughing.

I try to think of family, love, bright sun and rain’s pure air.
Pinned now between grief and tears in the space without thought, laughing.

Oh God, tell this poor poet Hamidah how to write to inspire joy.
Show the path to honeyed humor, good tears, and an only child laughing.

An unfaithful moment

The day covers the chasing night although I cry.
My record of how I remember my sins will show I cry.

The beauty of nature surrounds me at times, the cherry blossoms bloom.
As my sadness overwhelms me and I shiver as they blow, I cry.

The cold rooms where I work fill with music.
While people make tracing lines and patterns of shadow, I cry.

The cala lilies bloom with their arching blossoms.
The daffodils come out again, yellow. I cry.

What mistakes I work out their inevitable conclusions.
The peace I once felt left nothing but an echo. I cry.

Forgive me my sadness and my misery in life.
“Death Thou art with me. My cup overflows, “ I cry.

The words a flock of birds that taunt and fall.
I watch my heart as it drops beneath each blow. I cry.

Oh LORD, Pardon another bitter Hamidah in this regrettable mood.
You are my only love. Tell no one how you know I cry.

Leaveing work I curse your girlfriend again.
Her sex life with you a constant trouble nagging
and pulling my energy off, a distraction, a drain.
She is in my mind laughing at me and bragging.

Your exwife is her friend and the child support
was an unnecessary effort at some point. Now,
something I will never be given any credit for.
I know she did not worry about it when she was in tow.

I am losing my mind by the time I make my way
through the freezing night, and sitting next
to me on the BART is a woman crying trying to say
to another woman,"He's mine!" What did she expect?

Adultery doesn't seem like a big issue any more,
a loyal wife and partner is just another score.

The twelve nidanas

Kneeling over me, my body on your knees
I keep breathing, gagging, my eyes closing
you gain weight, (wanting to eat chocolate on the street)
the back of my throat draws in waves. Choking.

Lean forward, the way life cycles you can reel through hell,
a world of ghosts, flickering between the shadows,
entering your body or mine and knowing you through your tells,
You remain a reflection. In my neck there are fifteen throats.

Waiting for the climax. Waiting for the time in your arms
When I don't flinch from anxiety- part of the rest
of the human species. Around my life, ignorance, consciousness, and karma
encircle my consumption with my own birth and death.

I commit to abandon a new life, in renunciation and celibacy
I attempt to exceed this marraige to my history.

Drawing nearer to you

Will I be drawn down to rivers of pus and molten brass, to hell forever?
Will I be born in heaven blessed with peace, and shade, and wealth, forever?

I dream of drawing near to the boundary of the pure lote tree.
In my sleep I have seen the rivers where saints and angels dwell, forever.

Yet within the day putrid white heat beats my mind and heart with a raging pollution.
Sleep sodden I strain to transcend a life placed down as an exile, forever.

My polluted body rises toward revelation away from words of anger.
fear of Your condemnation calls for the call to a higher level, forever.

The vulture soars and wobbles the sky, a constant sign of grace.
But even that perfect flight cannot the sun's advance repel, forever.

If I fall asleep in the bathtub you can wake me up.

The green scum around the tub washes off quickly
with a bit of scrubbing and some hot water. I
think it itches, but for you algae
and spirulina provide healing and detoxify.

Hot water and a book, edges molding from
too many times in the tub. Your computer
brings entertainment to make the dip more fun.
Interrupt you in your ablutions and be an abuser!

Lean back, breathe in steam and greens.
Close the door and enjoy the quiet.
Your astral plane needs the attention, sin,
the wet warm H2O will be so satisfying.

Slip your hands through the water and enjoy,
call if you need juice or a ducky toy.