| disarming (and in the night he sought to hear that it's safe here & he's needed) |
[05 Mar 2009|12:28pm] |
as it should
i stopped my journey here
and finally professed
that this place is much too big
as any place should be
and forever disarming
that my wingspan is only so long
my fingers spread so wide
that i may never know you
& i may never unearth his spirit
and perhaps i'm finally
willing to know
that there's no such thing
as empty space
|
|
| disarming (and in the night he sought to hear that it's safe here & he |
[05 Mar 2009|12:28pm] |
as it should
i stopped my journey here
and finally professed
that this place is much too big
as any place should be
and forever disarming
that my wingspan is only so long
my fingers spread so wide
that i may never know you
& i may never unearth his spirit
and perhaps i'm finally
willing to know
that there's no such thing
as empty space
|
|
|
[22 Feb 2009|12:27am] |
i ate away that weetigo
that ate away at me.
i spilled and splayed those bits to sleep
of a reconstructed day-mare,
in which
i saw myself a lonely lioness
with callous bites i bit
and heaved my heart-like
(silly) skipping stone
and ate my just desserts.
soon we'll pull this anchor from its grave
in search of dawn's new daydream
with what i know is what i need
to be a never-lonely lioness
to be alone and loved and loving.
i chased down that too-proud callous grin
that flees from dreams too-easily
i tasted my just too-sweet dessert,
and from my solemn, sacred lips,
i hummed,
never again will i
make
a cuckold
out of you.
|
|
| she fights for her life as she puts on her coat |
[07 Feb 2009|09:31am] |
i said i'd write you a new poem
before i dove into a wishing well
before i bowed to the moon
for a few more words, before i go
a word, at least, for melancholia
another one for mourning
to ease her in with rosy fingertips
that pick away at our little toes
singular as stars,
stitched onto an easy comforter.
but before i could plead
for the muses, kept at bay
i was mute,
my universe under siege, before
i slipped into dream
into a puddle of poems
that i'll never write for you.
|
|
| greetings from a migratory goose |
[18 Dec 2008|10:38am] |
tonight i thought, i have become a cathartic being,
just simply from believing.
i dreamed about buses, and sleeping
the road slipping by beneath me.
i went to new york city
because i didn't want to have to think about missing you tomorrow,
and i believe that may be true.
when i almost came to
i was standing in a pile of day-old slush
posing for a disposable camera.
look beautiful! i thought,
and glanced at my funny red shoes.
as i waited for my toes to thaw and wiggle again,
you might have called me beautiful then.
and i would have leaped into your arms
just so you could lift this weight off its feet.
can i assume such things of people?
that loneliness is a thing to be conquered,
even anchors have the spirit of kites.
i heard her say quietly,
don't let falling in love get in the way,
not too much.
and i knew what she meant.
simply from believing, so fully, in my funny red shoes
my nimble toes, and the strength and sadness i first spotted in you.
so i took a bus to new york city
to take the cold frost on,
to believe in something so much greater
and surrender to its weight.
|
|
| i think about utopias a lot. |
[27 Jan 2008|10:47pm] |
i don't want to end up hard-hearted, a diehard, skeptic.
and what's the use of stickin it to the man if passion's just left in a big fat 'fuck you!'
i want to live in an earth home, i want to be a vertical farmer, and pluck corn stalks and beans simultaneously. that's why they call them companions, they grow together best. i want to be a soup chef, and to open up a hole-in-the-wall soup bar for those of us who prefer the colder climate. and he says, if he had my soup to come home to everyday, that wouldn't be so bad. so if i wear an apron, or if he wears the apron, does this make me harder
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|
| magical realism and the inadequacy of leather belts |
[16 Sep 2007|10:07pm] |
we're writing a story about ziggy and her stardust, and dominic's hat.
rekindled love, made more intense by the sadness that we shared.
and with all our dirty cover-ups laid out, we can be spectacular
spilling our independant discoveries over concord grapes, red wine, and spinning quarters
we stood in the middle of the avenue, slow danced in spite of passerbys.
uninhibited in a safe space, a free-for-all, is where tenderness exists!
never have i felt love like this.
|
|
| four month hiatus |
[02 Sep 2007|11:57pm] |
i kept pace with you tonight, sometimes half a stride ahead, eager to move ahead from trudging behind.
i realize how the shade we made for one another became shadows, hanging above and lingering with too much weight.
i am not seeking refuge
there's nothing out there, otherly and lonely, that i need to be safe from
and what about the sadness and sunkenness?
well i wear it proudly on my sleeve, renamed as compassion.
onwardsssssss
love.
|
|
| sleepytime gorilla museum |
[23 Aug 2007|12:53am] |
tonight, on a bit of a whim, i went alone to a show with lots of very loud music, theatrics, and funny makeup
freaks in any other context.
on the way home i realized that i really like frutopia ads
the ones about going on tangents and how the world just needs more high fives
is this some sign of aging, tttime, softening of the heart?
|
|
| one step up up and away |
[16 Jul 2007|12:37am] |
| [ |
music |
| |
still joanna newsom |
] |
tonight i spoke words on an open stage, my voice quivered with agression for the first time
|
|
| too many cigarettes, where's self-discipline now |
[13 Jul 2007|12:26am] |
| [ |
music |
| |
in love with joanna newsom |
] |
i drank merlot alone tonight to mull over all the things i've said impossible to.
screwdrivers from weeks ago because i don't really ever bother to finish the incomplete
another idea of extravagance, anonymity
i read today the line all tenderness is false, a veiling of the animals in us
but my roar is weak - it doesn't travel beyond inhibitions to you, some cities away
i thought about grace, and standing alone
and i do stand, so well too, a fool would be a fool to forget
my head tips to the left, far left
enough to tilt and fall into the pillow i saved for you, always
let's be together for the sake of being together, says a lot about our desires
i refuse to believe certain things like that
i see our loneliness, i see our substitutes embodied in and/ors
i really still feel this tenderness and purity that we shared, the crossing of longitudes
i keep imagining these concentric circles between me and you and him and every act of randomness
and where our circles meet is where we bump into each other in highschool hallways, stumble, papers scatter and float
oh clumsy me
but there's the one circle, my skin encircling me, when penetration happens
the rarity of that, i can't drop it
|
|
| farewell to sportsman's paradise |
[04 Jun 2007|06:22pm] |
ill be home in a week, and headed to hamilton a few days after that
i spent the last four days with the parasites in my belly, liquid foods exiting my body in unattractive ways - i spent the first four days of hurricane season with cabin fever.
but ill just keep hopping onwards cause i know ill be back in new orleans to hop some trains to the backcountry and back
hmm ... 'relief' is a strange word right now when everything we've tried to build could be washed into the gulf in one big gust of wind, cycles.
let's hang out
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|
|
[28 May 2007|03:51am] |
ithaca's a small college town with a few dreaded heads and few more taiwanese
coming from new orleans gunshots and black plumes in the hamilton sky, ivy league love is the last thing im compatible with
but half-drunken, i just wish i didnt write emotional letters to a person from before
sorry for the obscurity, but i have nothing better to do than sneaking away to people's computers
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|
[24 May 2007|12:48pm] |
| [ |
music |
| |
some dude blasting his nostalgic rockn'roll |
] |
today i chose not do what i love, the humbling experience of planting grasses to save the wetlands one root at a time
instead i voluntarily decided to be someone's excel administrative bitch of the day, opting for the comfort of being plugged in rather than... whatever
and to boot and to spite, i ate a donut, a bag of corn chips, and 3 cookies
so on rebuilding in new orleans: everyday i'm watching the wetlands reclaim the lower ninth ward as a reminder that yes this place once was a wetland, uninhabited, perhaps what it's intended to be. so you build a levee to protect the people, which inadvertently blocks the natural nutrient and sediment cycles, kills off ecosystems and invaluable land - essentially, the wetlands, which are the buffers against storm surges, are being washed out into the gulf of mexico at an impressive rate, which in turn jeopardizes the people.
simply put,
1 acre of wetlands absorbs 1-1.5 billion gallons of floodwater
2.7 square miles of wetlands lowers storm surge by 1 foot
...and since the 1930s, over 2000 square miles have been lost. a football field of wetlands is lost every half hour.
so new orleans is sinking as more oil gets sucked out from under, sea levels are rising as more oil canals are being dredged, cutting up the city, and the bigger and better hurricane season begins june 1st.
i wish i could better articulate the scene without sounding overly apocalyptic. but here is where military police patrol the police state, agents of fear abusing an archaic Napoleonic law, making all things radical, anarcho, not only seem possible here but necessary.
|
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| second line primitive |
[14 May 2007|05:09pm] |
knee deep in mud, barefooted in chest high marsh water and while wading through exotic invasive hyacinthes i got a glimpse of vietnam
i share a bunk with a cute boy and i climb on top each night ready to sweat as i safety pin up our d.i.y. mosquito canopy - a canopy made for gypsies and princesses. we bike ride round the city late at night looking for anything that"s free to feed our indecision and again return to the house of 1800 deslonde (go on and google earth it) .. off the grid we go to the house of black mold and fireants, the hornets i wake up to staring at.
in the night while standing atop old house foundations the big dipper seems a little skewed to the left, occasionally reminding me im a pretty far ways away from home... only occasionally do i let myself miss him
|
|
|
[08 May 2007|09:00pm] |
|
new orleans is the place of the radicals of our time
|
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| communes and politics in NOLA |
[05 May 2007|11:34pm] |
commune living, it's almost there
inspiration: compost toilets, solar panel showers, im building a rainwater catchment!
and the politicking, my gosh
a boy kissed me last night, i kissed back and i knew it was coming cause i was asking for it. so i decided i was too tired, when really i like dave's kisses better. im attached to his sex, what can i say? fuck!
yesterday it poured like i've never seen, which is an eerie sight given the landscape. so we put down the shovels and danced, we showered by eaves troughs, like maniacs running and rolling massive coca-cola barrels through the streets to find the golden spots for rain water harvesting.
it's fantastic here waking up by the levee, watching sunsets by the levee. but just think about the implications of low impact development - self-sustaining to self-determine
what a beauty!
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| departure day five |
[01 May 2007|01:15am] |
back to the big easy for me in t minus 6 hrs
freakin scared this time around
how final goodbyes are
|
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|
[24 Apr 2007|09:11pm] |
|
it gets so hard when it's night, i just want to curl up in bed with him
|
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| happy earth day |
[22 Apr 2007|11:58am] |
oh fuck me and fuck this day if i cannot stay in bed any longer
to have my dusty corners and a basket full of dirty clothes
dirty feet and a dirty face to face a blindingly sunny day
6:47, i open my eyes before the birds got to chirping, and it floods, to add to my dreams of flooding of houses and schoolyards, pouring over this wasteland of dirty sheets and blankets. im climbing up a tree. my stomach is eating itself so much so that curling up only aids to mutilate.
so this is what it feels like to be at the end, and say farewell, take care, i loved you.
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