Poetry: ©️Mariko 2005-present

There is no such thing,

I think, of a gentle tide

no matter where I stand;

no matter when I stand,

no matter how I stand;

no matter with whom,

the ocean still pulls;

the shore still teases,

the sand still parts

leaving my skin bare

with what remains;

covered with remnants

that once warmed my feet…

the sun, refuses to rise

giving no aid;

but jumping behind clouds to

hide just beyond the rain…

I wonder at times

when tragedy leaps

and I find myself standing

once again in these tides

if the moon finds her pleasure

in hopeless attempts;

to gain some support,

in an uneven ground;

to gain some anchor,

in a city full of stand

here, now, before, after, since, and still

I am left to struggle within

jagged waves too disoriented by ithe tides

only leaving behind bruises-

an ocean full of trophies

filled with bitter intention

to rid me of hope

to drop anchor and secede

drowned below the depths as

the sea bellows its triumph

with each thoughtless wave

crashing down at my broken, scarred knees

freezing, determined, bruised and bare

I stand

although my body is sore,

although the salt blinds..

I wade deeper within a somber sea

searching for a tide;

to carry me safely to harbor.
mkd 2012



I saw you;

In the scent of a cigarette

Nodding, laughing, sharing…

I felt you;

In the sound of the motorcycle

Reaching, tumbling, holding…

I miss you;

In the sound of music

Walking, dancing, typing…

I think of you;

In the distance of Nola

Near, here, always

Safe in my heart.


i stood back up

wet from hours of tears

too hard for that moment

that caught my fall, that





it’s a calm;

waiting, dancing, drifting

on a changing tide

waiting for his truth;

discovering mine,

marked it’s space

remembering my thoughts

his words; and theirs

knowing they’re all

speaking a truth…

it’s an awakening

between right and left

stand up; sit down

go; stay

walk; be still..

in a fear

that one day

their words will

exit my lips

their anger-



could be mine

and still

i’m attached to his side

in a love so big

its erased my pride

tangled my heart

and shut down my mind

and so i exist

dancing along with

swallowed doubts

and unconditional eyes…

it’s an acceptance-

that words are just words,

we listen. we speak. we feel

we share our breath

and paint beautiful promises

epic dreams,

and passion so bright it burns

but promises are words

and words fall between

the lines of our minds

and strings of our hearts…

the beauty of love

of trust and respect

is in our steps;

it’s in a glance; a smile;

a touch…a kiss

it’s the power of my hand

wrapped tightly in his

it’s a power so big

that even with noise…

I dive.
mkd2016 (written October 2016)

I see you;

Searching, building, designing-

Manipulating her love into mine

Giving her images I loved

Trying to make her see

Something new

something the same as, me

I see you

Finding ways to keep me around

In memories and quotes

Clothes and speakers

Waves and surf

You take her love and twist it

Shape it. Mold it. Fit it,

Better in your darkness

Easier in your  cold

She can wear my clothes

And sleep in my sheets

And share your words

She can’t define-

You’ll tie her to strings

And make her dance

Up, down

Around, between

Over and under

Your bitter, your cold.

Your lengthy deceit…

You’ll stumble; she’ll fall

She’ll yell; you’ll run

Never happy

Never at peace…

Stuck in all your lies

Wading through your pathetic

And shoveling your shit…

She’ll turn herself inside out

For you,

Ignore your pain

And avoid your screams…

You’ll forget her, looking for me:

My skin, my breath, my wet

Haunts. Teases. Shakes you awake

somewhere between

Your cold and your warm…

I’ll haunt your heart

And terrorize your soul

That love, you-

Searched. Found and  Destroyed.

I see you-

Alone. Cold. Dark…




i used to think it impossible,

to accept a touch

to allow him entrance

without loving

his person, his heart, his mind

but my legs began to open

as my heart went

out of order…
i practiced casual

like a child practicing cursive

careless and jumbled

-at first-

then perfection with those

endless curves and difficult loops…

i used to think

it would always remain

exciting, thrilling, and brave

yet with every in and out

mundane crept in

followed closely with a

listless numbing

perching herself too proud

along my side…
i used to think it might be


to fall into the tangles,

to dwell between

the strings; the webs

of another’s heart

but sharp witted pictures

-daggers thrown

severed all things

even my

my last heart string
i used to think…

but now i know to

be careful when balancing

on other’s seams

be careful when giving up

moments and dreams;

conversations and silence;

the pens and needles

found in between

lost somewhere

in the middle

a circle hangs empty.



though my heart

sometimes sings;

though my knees

were scraped

the scars barely show;

though sometimes

storms still brew;

though my mind

can tell lies;

though my curtains

stay closed

my windows remain open;

though my hands

tremble with fear;

though my smile

shines bright

my eyes avoid slowly;

though my soul

is sleeping

dreaming silent secrets…


though my feet

follow maps

pacing the lines

one before the other;

though my tongue

throws daggers

and my pride

wears red;
life. living. lived.


what i want-

is for you to hear

my voice;

to swallow my words

to feel me

behind this shirt;

beyond this skirt

and above these heels
what i want-

is to undress my pride

cut it to pieces

and sew it to your side

for you to keep-


it’s yours
what i want-

is to dance my salt

around your eyes;

your back

your thighs

to tighten your grip

pulling back

the wandering air
what i want-

is for you

to take cover

march up to the winds

and bring back

my lost screams

my hidden sighs

and those carefully planned

what i want-

is to be louder

than i was before

to pull the fucking moon


away from the night

so your eyes reflect

no other but me.
what i want-

is the warmth of your sleep;

wrapped up in knots

tangled in your breath

lost in dreams…

I wake myself up

At night

Whenever my arm is over my head

Reaching at a memory…

Rewritten. Taken. Gone.

I wake myself up

At night

Whenever my dreams take me

There. Home. Back…

To sun rays and melodies

Flip flops and stolen covers

I wake myself up

At night

As I slowly erase myself

Of you…


His hand in mine

Our toes in the sand

Ocean dances

Bright as stars

Calm with depths

Angles and shapes

Hidden beneath steps

Cold and bitter

Wet and rage

Covered and warmed

Under a teasing sun

Wading and laughing

Stories and stories and stories

Lost at sea

Drowned in truth

My hand dries my tears

My toes in the sand

Upright on rocks

Firm against this storm

Glancing out at the sparkles

This lighthouse shines brighter…




Waking up to

Dew kissed stems

Frost covered limbs

Warmed by the breeze

Stirred gently by the tides

It pulls. It traps

It sinks beneath the skin

Dancing though my bones

And stumbling within

Lost. It seeks


Without a sound

Escaping from my lips

Echoing through my soul

Frozen in a moment

Lost at sea

Consumed by waves

Too dark

Too fast

Too deep

Abandoned with ships

Sinking in the past

Sentranced, erased.


I think it might beautiful-
to fall into the tangles,
that dwell within
the strings and webs
of a captured sharpness
that challenges my courage
and teases my solitude,
as we stumble tangled into rest
with moments and dreams,
the pen and needle
of what rests between
chasing after ever…

when i’m feeling small;
i visit the ocean…
she teases with her tides;
as she comes and goes,
her waves wrap around my ankles;
and for a moment-
i am embraced
the salt-
a substitute for tears
my heart never sung
when I’m feeling lost;
i visit the ocean…
Her vastness is challenging;
her depths are consuming,
but even when drowned
deep in her darkness,
there is beauty.
there is life.
there is me.
i was never his
and he was never mine
but god damn
we can tell ourselves
such pretty lies…
I traveled to there
i spun in circles here
we met the middle
behind rusted hinges
inside broken doors
of burnt cracked walls
he spoke many words
many beautiful words
many tempting words
many perfect words
whispered now. us. forever.
as he crossed
his fingers
too tight around
those clever little lies
he stood at the door
i tilted my hat
as i shook his hand
doubled stepped my feet
began to walk
until my steps
caught up with his goodbye
he sang a sweet tune
even hung a great picture
but in the end
he never knew
he never even noticed
that he was never really mine
how silly of him
to believe his own lies…
You wore me well;
tied my hands
behind my back
as you stitched
your crooked seams;
with your dull needles
and broken black strings;
i found myself, one day
lost in hidden pockets
buried deep beneath
denim and flesh
latex and tears..

you threw on a tie
to change it up;
dress it up,
how did you balance so well,
between my depth
and the shallow of
satin red strings?

you wore me so well
i had to cut my favorite dress
to tear myself-
out. away.
to get rid of you
leaving isn’t easy
when you have to mend yourself
but staying seemed impossible
the moment you crumbled
too much starch you said,

so i unhooked those seams

and burned those ties

i melted your needle

and took back my dress

i looked in your closet
those beautiful deep dark closets
and found it empty
with broken hangers
and plastic bags;
ripped up patterns
and rusted cuff links…
no wonder you wore me so well.