Harmony is beautiful, but the freedom to create dissonance is more beautiful.

New Orleans Poetry

City Park series
July before Hurricane Katrina, 7/11/05

City Park part 1

Once remembered
A poem, a song
Once or twice envisioned
Still searching down empty paths
Down busy paths
For a meaning
I’m 33 now.

Recently, been fucked – well
Paper and pencil interrogate my mind
For words to write
Sitting in City Park
Ants marching around me
Bicyclists strolling beyond me
A white car parked across the way
A man or a woman watching me?
Or maybe they are just reading.

Slight breeze on a July summer’s day
My cigarette burned down to the filter
I suck its last few bits of nicotine delight
The smell of polluted society
Lingers in my mind.


Leaking out of a penetrable brain
A soul is lurking to spark its fame
Yearning to be left alone
But someone must know its name


Sun rays peak through the branches
Of an old oak next to me
No sounds of birds to accompany
My presence here undisturbed


Unmarked territory
Of him and her
She and her

Fantasy part 1

I yearn

part 2

Small hard nipples
Rubbing against
My chest
Her body is thin
and fit
Her mouth
entwined with mine
Her hips press
against my pussy
I open my eyes
She is not there.

Little Bandit

Little raccoon coming toward me
Like a curious cat, panting
He looks thirsty
He’s closing in
Little bandit
Maybe he’s hungry
He is watching me
He does not read
A butterfly flies past the tree
That he has climbed

Reading: City Park part 2

He left
The man in the white car
Parked across the way
Who was watching me
Or just reading.

_________________________end of series

I Left Everything

I left everything
Packed up some clothes
I left my hat, my TV
my life, my sanity
I left it all
I don’t need the TV anyway

Numb Dream

In a field of tall grass
I am naked
lying on my back
staring up without my glasses
into a sun piercing through a big blue sky
Everything is blurry
A little bird flies overhead
just far enough not to recognize its color
but close enough to know it’s a bird.

Ice-cream Headache

Licking the ice-cream spoon
So sweet so soft
But cold
Licking the ice-cream spoon
Maybe with chocolate syrup
Maybe not
Licking the ice-cream spoon
So bad so good
Licking, licking, licking
Stuck to the back of my throat.

2/15/2003 Sat. 2:15

In this life
Our souls are enslaved
to our bodies

But my father’s body
is enslaved to his soul
In this life.

The Bath Tub
1/24/2003 3:38pm revised 4:03pm

I remember as a child
filling the bath tub with plain water
(bubbles only blocked the view)
After slowly entering the warmth
I would sit down and watch the water
move all around me
back and forth
ignoring the feel of it’s embrace
sitting still as the water slowed
to accommodate the mass
that invaded it’s space
The water welcomed me with a stir
then obeyed my motionless body
The water in all it’s grace
would wait for the next command of my body
but I would not move

I remember the distance
I remember the reflections
The water surface reflected everything above
and up to the ceiling
But the reflection was endless to me
I could see the vast distance
I could fall through
Looking down, past the surface tension
someday I would fall through

I still wait to fall through
every time I enter the bath tub
I am 30 now.

Mamma's Kitchen
6/13/2002, revised 10/23/08

“One Day at a Time” Mamma sings
She knows every word
“How Great Thou Art”
The melodies escape her
so not to drown within her soul
She ponders
At the top of her voice she talks
She tells of a story
in constant momentum
pacing her continuous walk
She sings again of peace with Christ
Go Mamma Go!
And oh, Oh that cookin’ fo sho’!
Rollin’ chicken in the flour to fry
Boiling potatoes to mash with butter and milk
Fresh green beans
and okra from the garden
and buttermilk biscuits are next
to sop up the dumplings
and gravy that drench
the entire southern fried mess
Oh but Oh soooo good!
Comin’ outta Mamma’s kitchen!
And the smell of that chicken!
It’s not even 4 o’clock
And we’ll probably eat by 5pm.

Rambling Gesture series
-lost in New Orleans & missing Mitch, 5/2002 revised 11/12/08
Raelea C. Phillips © Copyright 2010. All rights reserved.

Broken Glass

It is my fault…no, it is yours
Maybe neither is to blame
But if it is mine
Then I can change
If it is yours then I don't know
Your loneliness is my loss and pain
You choose, you chose
I chose
but I lost the round
I'm spinning
My thoughts are whirling through me
Like broken glass hitting every edge
Cutting each piece inside me
My loneliness now
I miss you
I cannot stop the thought of you
You continue without awareness
of your constant presence
that’s cutting me
Every waking hour I am to blame
But every sleeping hour, you are
And I still wonder
if this will ever change
When I am with you, I suffer
When I am not, I suffer
You don't suffer
the same pain
You are lonely
but want it that way

I'm lonely for you
Can I still desire what may never be again?
Can I go on with this glass cutting and cutting?
I am afraid to lose this pain.
When my heart stops bleeding
Then I will no longer
Have the thought of you in me
to hope for
to wish for us again

My Wish

If I could wish and it really come true…
I got something really hokey for sure…
I would wish for you.
I am no good alone
but I am no good with anyone.
So my wish would actually be
to be good with you.


Go Go Go
Get Get Get
Take Take Take
No time to give


A job, could it be
to work again mindlessly?
A task to suit the mass
A task to occupy
what hides
behind this mask
part-time only I continually say
part-time only to write again
To place these words empty
no song
Meaningless words
no melody line
They’re lost like my soul
on sail in search for a shore
swimming and wading
and wading out time
why oh why
can’t I find
the melody line
I must find the will
and find the way for meaning
of my words to sail
and reach a shore
but wait…
I am lost with my words again.


If this is life then what is death?
The absence of pain
I might guess.
Without pain
I’m a zombie no less
no regret and no happiness

I knew happiness once
in a song
with a man
with a woman
and once with a word
and once without solace
Happiness is in
contentment and solace
If death spoils solace,
then death must wait.

If you ever came back
should I accept the temptation?
Or should I crumble it up
and throw in your direction?
Should I say YES then spit in your face?
Or should I say YES then laugh with disgrace?
Should I scream NO and leave you the echo?
Or should I whisper, You’ve been gone a long time and I don't know you anymore.
You crumbled me up and threw me away.

It Is Love

It is Love
It dabbles from a long thread
Wavering forever
Over miles and miles of land
Mountains and trees
Rivers and streams
Homes and buildings
And it is there
It is love

I know when he sleeps
I know when he eats
I know when he hurts
And I know when he weeps
I know when he hopes
I know when he dreams
And I know when he is thinking of me

It travels through that thread
That connects what it is
I know this
And he doesn't even know
That I know these things
It is Love.


Red White and Blue
They shine, shine
Glimmer and shine
It is the new –
Fad of 2002
September 11th of 2001
A disastrous strike
of hate so sublime
Brought back these colors
That shine shine shine.


New Orleans is fine
Humid by day
Sultry by night
On a roof nearby
A poet is writing
Escaping her mind
Words without meaning
But she tries
Oh, so eloquently
She still tries
But not so eloquently
These words do fly
Here they have landed
In black and white
Without rhyme


Leave me
I am thinking
It doesn't happen that much anymore
So leave me to think
And leave me for good

Paper & Pen

Even if you say what you say all the time
I already know what’s in your heart
Put in down with paper and pen
You couldn't have changed all that much
What you say and what you feel
like foes in a game
But what you write and what you feel
are just the same same same.

Thread Won't Break

Go ahead! Do it!
Push me farther away!
You keep trying
But this thread
Just won't break!

_________________________end of series

July, And You Again
7/29/2002 2:07am

I can’t feel you now
I think you’ve slipped away
Though you called
wanting us back
But I guess you changed
your mind again
It’s been Thursday
since I heard your voice
So I was just wondering
if I made the right choice
Accepting you in my life again
after constantly pushing me away
I’ve lost count
of the number of times
that we have been off and on
But I miss you
And I hope you’ll stick to what you’ve said
cuz commitment is a real big thing
and I don’t think you’re ready.

I Can't Resist
Dreaming a Saturday afternoon delight
11/01/2003 revised 3:52pm

My succulent inner thighs
Open and wide
Aching for hard sex
To drive me
To ride me
To penetrate me
To moaning pleasure
Spanking my tingling flesh
Pounding my ass with your tongue
Then the sweet smell of my pussy’s cum
All over your awaiting face.

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