First off I wanna say my usual disclaimer because I'm so lame -- to all my friends that have emails sitting in my various inboxes - email, Facebook, myspace --know that I spend at least a solid 30 seconds everyday thinking "shit I need to write these people back". And considering how busy and/or distracted lately that's saying a lot!
Currently I am sitting in the living room of my mom's house in upstate NY waiting for the laundry gnomes to finish my laundry. They're amazing. I put some clothes in the little hamper in the bathroom and then, before I go to pull them out they're washed, dried, and folded and put back in my bag. It's fucking amazing! I gotta get me some laundry gnomes. I think they only like my mom though because this sort of phenomenon only happens when she's around.
I just remembered I had a dream last night I was dating Prince William. He's looking kinda hot again now that he's scruffy. Scruffy nixes balding anytime. The blur of hair in the facial region sorta fills in gaps on top perhaps.
Anyway, let's see. I started off 2008 madly in love with a guy I was pretty much convinced was my soul mate. We spent New Year's last year kissing on Ayumi and Martin's roof and watching the fireworks over the city. Then we wandered home across the street and I was too drunk to do anything but sit in a hot bath and try to sober up. Kinda killed the romance there. Fact of the matter was that the Paxil I was on was really starting to fuck with me. Between that and the Yasmin, I never wanted to be intimiate with my bf and wanted to spend lots of time sleeping. I wrapped up on Cashmere Mafia and that's when the fighting began. Or at least got worse. We were preparing to move in together and then he bought a car without even considering me or our finances together and that coupled with his desire for more independence at the same time I was holding on tighter and freaking out with my medication -- it was just messy. We were fighting constantly and then I had a break in medication due to some bureacratic mix up and I went into full blown serotonin syndrome and basically freaked the fuck out. I couldn't sleep, I felt anxious and panicky all the time, I felt like my head was under water and my hearing and vision were blurred, I would shake, I couldn't stop crying, and after a couple days of this and seeing how my bf was reacting to my being crazy I decided that I was probably better off dead. I started scratching and cutting. And then one night he had to call 911 on me because the condition was getting worse. I basically went from relatively normal to psychosis in a couple days. All because of a lovely medication called Paxil.
So February I stared to feel better as I weened off on Paxil and went to another pill. However, my relationship wasn't healing. Or at least I thought it was and my bf had pretty much decided that he'd had enough. I was also working on Cadillac Records in NJ and it was a miserable time. Doens't help that there were some serious issues at home with my family and ugh. It was a really really horrible time that ended up with me getting dumped more or less on Valentine's Day. It's still up in the air if he started fucking the other girl before he broke up with me. And considering the way he wouldn't let me in his room and his roommate wouldn't let me near there, I don't think he was alone the night he dumped me. When I took the two hour trip out to Edison in the middle of the night to apologize for someting horrible I'd done and said and he wouldn't pick up his phone. I came all that way to show him how sorry I was and how much I loved him -- only to get dumped. It was a horribly painful time. Made worse because I was still struggling to get my head and body chemistry back together. Although he denies it, he did more or less leave me as I was still recovering. And all of that happening together nearly outright killed me.
I clung to the belief that we could fix it through my birthday in March. Then I heard about him fucking another girl that I'd been jeaous of. And essentialy, it was a couple months of just getting my heart broken over and over again. Of trying to reach out and be friends with him but only to be hurt and ignored. On a daily basis I stil think of him. I still love him. I probably always will. But I love myself more and have resolved to not allow anyone in my life who could so easily ignore me, disrespect me, abandon me, disregard me. I started to rediscover my own self worth. And realize how kind-hearted, loving, sweet, considerate, and awesome I am. It was his loss to throw away someone as dedicated and adoring and strong and independent as me. I just wished he could see it. Of course, he never has.
I worked a on a reality show called Stylista that lead right into another show called ESL. During this time work on my memoir I'd been working on for 6 years was drawing to a close. While working at ESL, a time card for my ex-ex bf passed my desk. It was this weird moment. And then I realized that all the pain and hurt about THAT break up was gone. I was over him and wished him well. And I told him so. But it made me realize that the best sex I ever had was when I was dating him over four years ago. Damnit. :)
And now I need to get dressed to head back to mass. so I'll need to finish this later...
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Thursday, December 25, 2008
blizzard
I look crazy
Sitting here smoking
Black woolen hat
pulled low
lips kiss
marlboro light
exhale
smoke hits the cold
windshield
I watch it dance
coil and recoil
I am in the parking lot
of the grocery store
radio shack
block buster
liquor shop
packies, the locals
call them
Where they go for
little bottles
a couple shots, a couple bucks
nips, they say
it is almost twelve o'clock
sunday morn
blizzard whirls
tires skid
I am a city girl
country girl
caught in between
suburbia
blue laws
I await the escape.
Sitting here smoking
Black woolen hat
pulled low
lips kiss
marlboro light
exhale
smoke hits the cold
windshield
I watch it dance
coil and recoil
I am in the parking lot
of the grocery store
radio shack
block buster
liquor shop
packies, the locals
call them
Where they go for
little bottles
a couple shots, a couple bucks
nips, they say
it is almost twelve o'clock
sunday morn
blizzard whirls
tires skid
I am a city girl
country girl
caught in between
suburbia
blue laws
I await the escape.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Curl
A gasp.
Eyes - two windowshades snapped
Pupils black, desperate for the light
Breathless, I reach in the darkness
turn on the hotel room heat
Two months and I still forget
that I am away from my home
We'd been having a conversation
in the depths of my unconscious
walking along the cortex and the convex
and concave of my mind
across ridges, meandering through
valleys, and settling, side by side
by a pleasant stream on the lobe-bank
And on my lips
As I awake
are the strangest of words
that startle me
as spoken
"I can still remember the curl
of your eyelashes"
Eyes - two windowshades snapped
Pupils black, desperate for the light
Breathless, I reach in the darkness
turn on the hotel room heat
Two months and I still forget
that I am away from my home
We'd been having a conversation
in the depths of my unconscious
walking along the cortex and the convex
and concave of my mind
across ridges, meandering through
valleys, and settling, side by side
by a pleasant stream on the lobe-bank
And on my lips
As I awake
are the strangest of words
that startle me
as spoken
"I can still remember the curl
of your eyelashes"
Sunday, December 14, 2008
bongos
this woman's voice sounds like mine
but i don't play the bongos
my hands don't slap like that
and i lack the bravery to sing
but i don't play the bongos
my hands don't slap like that
and i lack the bravery to sing
downshift
i miss the west side highway
that loopy swerve from the GW
high, fast, concrete blur
you always so perfectly in control
and i never let you know
i was holding my breath
roller coaster
land
highway, raceway
track and sway
lights of jersey
reflected on the hudson
and you on my side
you, mercurial
you, a continuum of time
I see your profile
dark, day, happy, mad
no traffic lights
til way down by the village
and we sailed
we sailed
rapid, rabid, tires solid
your hand my hand
i could have died happy
in a crush of steel and glass
that loopy swerve from the GW
high, fast, concrete blur
you always so perfectly in control
and i never let you know
i was holding my breath
roller coaster
land
highway, raceway
track and sway
lights of jersey
reflected on the hudson
and you on my side
you, mercurial
you, a continuum of time
I see your profile
dark, day, happy, mad
no traffic lights
til way down by the village
and we sailed
we sailed
rapid, rabid, tires solid
your hand my hand
i could have died happy
in a crush of steel and glass
slow dance
as a child i never learned
in junior high i'd giggle and say no
then the boys stopped asking
no, i'm a thirty year old woman
who doesn't know
how to slow dance.
certain lovers
have grabbed me over the years
hands on my hips
holding me close
spin, spin, dip
and I'd blush and squirm
away.
Despite validation
yes, you're doing it right
All I know I know from
watching on the side lines
and my form just doesn't feel right.
in junior high i'd giggle and say no
then the boys stopped asking
no, i'm a thirty year old woman
who doesn't know
how to slow dance.
certain lovers
have grabbed me over the years
hands on my hips
holding me close
spin, spin, dip
and I'd blush and squirm
away.
Despite validation
yes, you're doing it right
All I know I know from
watching on the side lines
and my form just doesn't feel right.
Future
You are simple
you are bare guitar
new strings
strummed on a late morning
I see you framed
in the window, low to the floor
It is a loft that I once lived in
And you have never known
And it's easy
Everything's easy
we resolve
we dissolve
anger melts
twisting, intertwining
pooling in kitchen sink
bath tub full
we fall, we splash
and somewhere in the
gravitational crash
the coming back to earth
we are ok
and parachutes always save
you are the one i'll write poetry to
great odes, read in bed
after the day, after the tv is off
we have settled
away from the roar of New York City
we are together
a blanket fort
a clumsy flashlight
tucked behind the couch
in our dark created together
reading comic books
and eating chocolate chip cookies
With you I am five, and fifteen, and fifty at once
I am wrinkled and smooth, fat and lean
With you I am unwoven, I am pulled apart
And I am tied and tapestried so tight
I am sweatpants and I am ball gown
I am strewn newspapers, I am leaves on the wind
With you, I am morning coffee, freshly ground
I am burned three hour old brew
With you I am beer breath, I am hangover green
I am champagne bubbles and I am crisp autumn white
You are there
somewhere
reclining in a pub
doodling mindless circles
on a dive bar napkin
And whenever the door opens
you look up, auto pilot
never noticing what you see
And me
I am here
usually between point A and point B
an ellipsis
a well travel path I have worn
the streets of Williamsburg
bend to me, cushion my footfalls
So why do I always walk
with my eyes to the ground?
you are bare guitar
new strings
strummed on a late morning
I see you framed
in the window, low to the floor
It is a loft that I once lived in
And you have never known
And it's easy
Everything's easy
we resolve
we dissolve
anger melts
twisting, intertwining
pooling in kitchen sink
bath tub full
we fall, we splash
and somewhere in the
gravitational crash
the coming back to earth
we are ok
and parachutes always save
you are the one i'll write poetry to
great odes, read in bed
after the day, after the tv is off
we have settled
away from the roar of New York City
we are together
a blanket fort
a clumsy flashlight
tucked behind the couch
in our dark created together
reading comic books
and eating chocolate chip cookies
With you I am five, and fifteen, and fifty at once
I am wrinkled and smooth, fat and lean
With you I am unwoven, I am pulled apart
And I am tied and tapestried so tight
I am sweatpants and I am ball gown
I am strewn newspapers, I am leaves on the wind
With you, I am morning coffee, freshly ground
I am burned three hour old brew
With you I am beer breath, I am hangover green
I am champagne bubbles and I am crisp autumn white
You are there
somewhere
reclining in a pub
doodling mindless circles
on a dive bar napkin
And whenever the door opens
you look up, auto pilot
never noticing what you see
And me
I am here
usually between point A and point B
an ellipsis
a well travel path I have worn
the streets of Williamsburg
bend to me, cushion my footfalls
So why do I always walk
with my eyes to the ground?
Sunday Morning
Sunday mornings smell differently
Despite the state, the hour, the mate
I have long pondered the scent
drifting, light, on the air
from chapel to temple
into the singed nostrils
of last night's sinners
and today's saints.
My nose, pressed into your belly
Teeth near your vulnerable skin
I pretend I am a tiger
I crawl and I pin
Snarl and snarl louder
when you proclaim me cute
and harmless
I bury my forehead against
your navel
and say quite ripely
if not so rightly
that I could tear your apart
Teeth snap, low growls rise
And in the morning light
I like to hold you down
sunday morning sun on my back
waves, you are the sea, I fight
I ride, I am held up to the gods
your hands, I steer I throw my
weight into the struggle
the moaning wheel, splinters
in my tender girl skin.
I bend my head
and in my softness
in my tidal voyage
I wish that I was like
other great captains
who knew, in the last minutes
sea tearing at the decks
that sometimes it is smarter
to abandon ships
before they go down
to give up on the horizon
and visions of the shore
Eyes to the sky
Northern star
It is not salt in my scent
It is not anything I thought
the storm subsides
down from the crow's nest
I come, slowly, decisive
holding on for dear life
my boots hit the wood
I have lost my sea-legs
and I tumble
I crumble
Huddle
Mumble
I am alone
white sheets
hotel room
four hundred miles away
there is no sun today
New England breathes in
across my bare back
and here I lay
so close to the sea
but I am no pirate
I am no sailor
I am alone
I think back
it's the cold, the sea
that captures me
forces me to look at photos
these memories in my mind
of the February we got in your car
and we drove to Coney Island
it was the same day
but only of the week
not of month
not of the year
and you will still in love with me
we watched the polar bears
prep and brag and run across the sand
shudder, body, shutter, camera
And out in the distance
the freightliners in the grey water
We stood, hand in hand
eyes to the sea, watching
wondering if any man could ever
survive the swim to England
Despite the state, the hour, the mate
I have long pondered the scent
drifting, light, on the air
from chapel to temple
into the singed nostrils
of last night's sinners
and today's saints.
My nose, pressed into your belly
Teeth near your vulnerable skin
I pretend I am a tiger
I crawl and I pin
Snarl and snarl louder
when you proclaim me cute
and harmless
I bury my forehead against
your navel
and say quite ripely
if not so rightly
that I could tear your apart
Teeth snap, low growls rise
And in the morning light
I like to hold you down
sunday morning sun on my back
waves, you are the sea, I fight
I ride, I am held up to the gods
your hands, I steer I throw my
weight into the struggle
the moaning wheel, splinters
in my tender girl skin.
I bend my head
and in my softness
in my tidal voyage
I wish that I was like
other great captains
who knew, in the last minutes
sea tearing at the decks
that sometimes it is smarter
to abandon ships
before they go down
to give up on the horizon
and visions of the shore
Eyes to the sky
Northern star
It is not salt in my scent
It is not anything I thought
the storm subsides
down from the crow's nest
I come, slowly, decisive
holding on for dear life
my boots hit the wood
I have lost my sea-legs
and I tumble
I crumble
Huddle
Mumble
I am alone
white sheets
hotel room
four hundred miles away
there is no sun today
New England breathes in
across my bare back
and here I lay
so close to the sea
but I am no pirate
I am no sailor
I am alone
I think back
it's the cold, the sea
that captures me
forces me to look at photos
these memories in my mind
of the February we got in your car
and we drove to Coney Island
it was the same day
but only of the week
not of month
not of the year
and you will still in love with me
we watched the polar bears
prep and brag and run across the sand
shudder, body, shutter, camera
And out in the distance
the freightliners in the grey water
We stood, hand in hand
eyes to the sea, watching
wondering if any man could ever
survive the swim to England
Saturday, December 13, 2008
plush
I am expanding
Away from my bones
I am burying my heart
Inside my chest
I don't want to
hear it's hollow
beating
no more.
It is warm
It is safe
Perhaps smothered
Perhaps dying.
I am expanding
Away from my bones
Plush and stuffed
Scarring inside
Building, stronger
Fractures healing over
White blood cells rushing
a crazy ambulance ride
emergency, emergency
construction crews
rebuild me with ladders
cranes, high apoxy glue
I am expanding
away from my bones
And I wait until
my skin weeps
And my joints refuse
I am growing
helium inflates
I billow
huff
and moan
It is wide
It is impressive
It is something
that no one can
look away from
And I hate you
I hate you
for seeing what I've done
to myself
I hate you
for noticing
I hate you
for judging
I hate you for not
wielding your swords
you white knights
steely, strong
through this thick forest
this impressive land scape
rush, rush
push, push
i am expanding
away from my bones
I am orbiting
I am gravitational
I am pulled down
and I can't move
I can't breathe
I proclaim
long, verbose speeches
electric screams, keypad bruised
that this time
I will let the air out
I will allow their knives
On planes to Mexico
they go, my people
searching for salvation
Begging for scars, to starve
I am different
I am different
I am different
I am different
I am different
I am not what disgusts me
I am not what you think
I am expanding
Away from my bones
Constructing a cave of myself
I am geometric, geographic
I am wood, stone, brick
I am a house, I am a vehicle
that sits in a back lot
filling with snakes
unkempt grasses
rusting
I am everything
but human.
And subject to the
laws of man.
that I was not there to write
or sign my given name
Away from my bones
I am burying my heart
Inside my chest
I don't want to
hear it's hollow
beating
no more.
It is warm
It is safe
Perhaps smothered
Perhaps dying.
I am expanding
Away from my bones
Plush and stuffed
Scarring inside
Building, stronger
Fractures healing over
White blood cells rushing
a crazy ambulance ride
emergency, emergency
construction crews
rebuild me with ladders
cranes, high apoxy glue
I am expanding
away from my bones
And I wait until
my skin weeps
And my joints refuse
I am growing
helium inflates
I billow
huff
and moan
It is wide
It is impressive
It is something
that no one can
look away from
And I hate you
I hate you
for seeing what I've done
to myself
I hate you
for noticing
I hate you
for judging
I hate you for not
wielding your swords
you white knights
steely, strong
through this thick forest
this impressive land scape
rush, rush
push, push
i am expanding
away from my bones
I am orbiting
I am gravitational
I am pulled down
and I can't move
I can't breathe
I proclaim
long, verbose speeches
electric screams, keypad bruised
that this time
I will let the air out
I will allow their knives
On planes to Mexico
they go, my people
searching for salvation
Begging for scars, to starve
I am different
I am different
I am different
I am different
I am different
I am not what disgusts me
I am not what you think
I am expanding
Away from my bones
Constructing a cave of myself
I am geometric, geographic
I am wood, stone, brick
I am a house, I am a vehicle
that sits in a back lot
filling with snakes
unkempt grasses
rusting
I am everything
but human.
And subject to the
laws of man.
that I was not there to write
or sign my given name
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
DBA
Besides all the stuff I'm doing right now I'm also starting a legit business. I think. I haven't had a chance to look at the paperwork. I started a company in 2001 called Tangled Up In Blue Productions and now I'm re-starting it in NYC with the same name. It costs $100 more. Fuckers. Then I paid some company to do all the leg work for me and that costs me more but I don't have time to deal with the county clerk so fuck it, it's worth it.
Back to work.
Back to work.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
fitting & jesse
I wanna try you out
slide you on
wiggle around
get comfortable
stretch you out
wear you down
break you in
but
I don't think you'll fit
I don't think it'll look right
I don't think it's what I want
In fact I know
but I wanna try anyway
I always do
I am too big
you are too small
I hate polyester
and you're allergic to wool
i know, i know, i know
that things like this
just don't work
with round pegs
and square holes
No
No I don't think so.
I twirl a lock of yours
around my finger
and I hate
oh my god how I hate
(love)
the way you look at me
in that after
the after where nothing
exists outside my
bedroom door
the night is endless
we are independently
wealthy
we are recklessly
abandoned
and other amazing
impossible
conditions
like being being
emotionally mature
adults
ready to fall in love
and stay that way
despite
loose threads
and gained pounds
yes, then things could be great
So I'll try you on
I'll invite your skin
and
every other heartbeat
I'll let you in
Then
tha-thump
right back out
It'll be fitting
It'll be a settling
It'll be a great find
A black Friday special
It'll be a dressing room
Squeeze
A breath
A zipper
Exhale
Hope it don't burst
Pray it don't split
Jesse
I told you jokingly
as you took my hand
that it snowed today
and it was somehow your fault
you laughed
said sure, blame it on me
but the truth is
as my tires slide in the slush
and as my windshield fogs
the snow here isn't the snow
of New York
and even without
mitten or boot or hat
I could stay
slide you on
wiggle around
get comfortable
stretch you out
wear you down
break you in
but
I don't think you'll fit
I don't think it'll look right
I don't think it's what I want
In fact I know
but I wanna try anyway
I always do
I am too big
you are too small
I hate polyester
and you're allergic to wool
i know, i know, i know
that things like this
just don't work
with round pegs
and square holes
No
No I don't think so.
I twirl a lock of yours
around my finger
and I hate
oh my god how I hate
(love)
the way you look at me
in that after
the after where nothing
exists outside my
bedroom door
the night is endless
we are independently
wealthy
we are recklessly
abandoned
and other amazing
impossible
conditions
like being being
emotionally mature
adults
ready to fall in love
and stay that way
despite
loose threads
and gained pounds
yes, then things could be great
So I'll try you on
I'll invite your skin
and
every other heartbeat
I'll let you in
Then
tha-thump
right back out
It'll be fitting
It'll be a settling
It'll be a great find
A black Friday special
It'll be a dressing room
Squeeze
A breath
A zipper
Exhale
Hope it don't burst
Pray it don't split
Jesse
I told you jokingly
as you took my hand
that it snowed today
and it was somehow your fault
you laughed
said sure, blame it on me
but the truth is
as my tires slide in the slush
and as my windshield fogs
the snow here isn't the snow
of New York
and even without
mitten or boot or hat
I could stay
i know nothing
gaslike
vapor
playhouse
wallpaper
it could all burn
everything could burn
at anytime
you know
i think of my toys
abandoned in the
dump behind our
farm house and wish
i could go back there
and somehow
despite my fear of snakes
rescue my
crystal castle
and turn 8 again
over the years
i've learned to
not throw things
away and you may
call me a packrat
and perhaps is just
a precursor to
insanity and a
collection of cats
that'll rub
and purr against the
endless piles of
memories that
overwhelm me not
from girth or bulk
not from abundance
or cumber
but because i have
forgotten why
they were packed
and saved
in the first place
I feel badly.
it is a burden
this consciousness
i struggle to feel
every moment
and appreciate every
star filled night and
blossom filled lawn
but despite all my
good intentions
and if you know me
you know i am
all about
(for better or for worse)
good intentions
yes, for all my
good intentions
the world keeps
turning and despite my
trying to name every
photo
trying to be in every
frame yet push the
shutter myself
(setting of timer
then tripping of feet)
yes despite all this
despite that fear of snakes
and desire to scientfically
know
and to bibically know
i just have to say
that i know
nothing.
vapor
playhouse
wallpaper
it could all burn
everything could burn
at anytime
you know
i think of my toys
abandoned in the
dump behind our
farm house and wish
i could go back there
and somehow
despite my fear of snakes
rescue my
crystal castle
and turn 8 again
over the years
i've learned to
not throw things
away and you may
call me a packrat
and perhaps is just
a precursor to
insanity and a
collection of cats
that'll rub
and purr against the
endless piles of
memories that
overwhelm me not
from girth or bulk
not from abundance
or cumber
but because i have
forgotten why
they were packed
and saved
in the first place
I feel badly.
it is a burden
this consciousness
i struggle to feel
every moment
and appreciate every
star filled night and
blossom filled lawn
but despite all my
good intentions
and if you know me
you know i am
all about
(for better or for worse)
good intentions
yes, for all my
good intentions
the world keeps
turning and despite my
trying to name every
photo
trying to be in every
frame yet push the
shutter myself
(setting of timer
then tripping of feet)
yes despite all this
despite that fear of snakes
and desire to scientfically
know
and to bibically know
i just have to say
that i know
nothing.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
crazy one
(still working on this one)
It was long decided
Settled
Shook on
The contract signed
Notarized
Filed and stamped
Yes, we decided
That I was the crazy one
Then we began
I acted accordingly
Well inside the legal boundaries
Loving and loony
I'd point to my heart
and scream you're breaking me
you're breaking me
And logic
You brought logic
And love
You brought love
I passed out in your arms
Mid-argument
Losing breath
Panic
You caught me
You caught me
And off to the doctor I went
Medicate
medicate
Medicate this girl
We nodded
And I swallowed the pills
I listened to your
perimeters
I traced the lines
And there I walked
On your fence
Balance
balance
No spotter
but I don't think that
in the set of documents
in that hail storm of
words and precedents
and cited history
in the descript of
contents and belongings
and expectations
no, i don't think that
anywhere in that
brief case of agreement
we discussed our retreat
or the prevention of such
or affirmed that
i, despite expanse
and occasional
circumstance
was amazing
and beautiful
and singularly
brilliant
and loved.
and worth it.
was i worth it?
i was supposed to be worth it.
whatever 'it' was.
the way that you were worth it
whatever 'it' was
to me
And it amuses me
as I lie in my bed
Pillow to head
bed spread to chin
as I realize
how fucking amazing
i am.
I took all those models
you had of me and all
those limitations of what
you could believe
and i didn't mean to
it just happened
i proved you wrong
by just continuing to
breathe
the next time I fell
and you weren't
there to catch me.
It was long decided
Settled
Shook on
The contract signed
Notarized
Filed and stamped
Yes, we decided
That I was the crazy one
Then we began
I acted accordingly
Well inside the legal boundaries
Loving and loony
I'd point to my heart
and scream you're breaking me
you're breaking me
And logic
You brought logic
And love
You brought love
I passed out in your arms
Mid-argument
Losing breath
Panic
You caught me
You caught me
And off to the doctor I went
Medicate
medicate
Medicate this girl
We nodded
And I swallowed the pills
I listened to your
perimeters
I traced the lines
And there I walked
On your fence
Balance
balance
No spotter
but I don't think that
in the set of documents
in that hail storm of
words and precedents
and cited history
in the descript of
contents and belongings
and expectations
no, i don't think that
anywhere in that
brief case of agreement
we discussed our retreat
or the prevention of such
or affirmed that
i, despite expanse
and occasional
circumstance
was amazing
and beautiful
and singularly
brilliant
and loved.
and worth it.
was i worth it?
i was supposed to be worth it.
whatever 'it' was.
the way that you were worth it
whatever 'it' was
to me
And it amuses me
as I lie in my bed
Pillow to head
bed spread to chin
as I realize
how fucking amazing
i am.
I took all those models
you had of me and all
those limitations of what
you could believe
and i didn't mean to
it just happened
i proved you wrong
by just continuing to
breathe
the next time I fell
and you weren't
there to catch me.
shari
I, as one who
has never allowed
myself to be
struck
cannot understand.
but when i hear
that your lover
bruised your child
and busted your lip
my breath catches
and i shake
my head
when i hear that
you left the door
open
when the police
dragged
your lover away.
you can paint
your war and your
anger on my body
and you can linger
forever in my fear-seeping
vessels, my adrenaline
syrup, in the ooze
in my veins and
hidden nooks
and crannies of
bulge and clots
inside me yes, you can
remain and haunt
and bruise, and stab
but never
but never
can you touch that
which sprang from me
if ever one were to spring
sacred and small
rage and roar
but that wolf
that demon
would never
step back in through
my door.
but I, who has never been
struck
who has never stepped into
a blow
cannot ever understand.
has never allowed
myself to be
struck
cannot understand.
but when i hear
that your lover
bruised your child
and busted your lip
my breath catches
and i shake
my head
when i hear that
you left the door
open
when the police
dragged
your lover away.
you can paint
your war and your
anger on my body
and you can linger
forever in my fear-seeping
vessels, my adrenaline
syrup, in the ooze
in my veins and
hidden nooks
and crannies of
bulge and clots
inside me yes, you can
remain and haunt
and bruise, and stab
but never
but never
can you touch that
which sprang from me
if ever one were to spring
sacred and small
rage and roar
but that wolf
that demon
would never
step back in through
my door.
but I, who has never been
struck
who has never stepped into
a blow
cannot ever understand.
a sigh
a sigh
upon my thigh
i wonder
and i wait
i can be her
that girl you wanted
i could but
it'd be so much work
and even more
lies
a sigh
upon my thigh
i reach down
my hand in your hair
and as i glance down
over belly and breast
i want to tell you things
i am so pretty and perfect
in my ability to
be ugly and contorted
a sigh
up on my thigh
and we are one
but you do not exist
you ached for
you are longed for
but you are not
anymore
or ever
upon my thigh
i wonder
and i wait
i can be her
that girl you wanted
i could but
it'd be so much work
and even more
lies
a sigh
upon my thigh
i reach down
my hand in your hair
and as i glance down
over belly and breast
i want to tell you things
i am so pretty and perfect
in my ability to
be ugly and contorted
a sigh
up on my thigh
and we are one
but you do not exist
you ached for
you are longed for
but you are not
anymore
or ever
Some New Poems
All currently untitled, all typed up in a flurry this morning.
1.
I like to throw things away
Big bulging black bags
I like to throw things away
And pretend that it
All just disappears
And no one has to deal with
The remnants of me.
2.
This is what writers want
Quiet first snow New England
Alone in a cottage
city lights too far to see
Windows thrown open
Inviting the winter in
Saying a bright and happy “hello”
But then wishing at the same time
That my visitor does not stay long
And that it does not threaten
To complete me
3.
You, my first true love
I romanced and ravished with you
Then threw you to the drawer
Filed you away alphabetically
Now I drag you out
Dusty and remembered
To feed you to the wolves
And hope again that
You will make me seem more
That I will seem more
Relevant
With a history laid sprawled
And me standing so proudly
Caressing you for their eyes
Maybe they’ll think I’m brave
Maybe then you’ll somehow
Forgive me
For my lack of discipline
And commitment
And my voice will reclaim
And reconquer
As I learn to spell once again
Without red angry
Underlined reminders
Of the student I was
The artist I was
Backspace
Still not right
Then I realize I invented this word
And again we settle
Into a love
Poke and prod
A gentle and soft murmur
I will not let you down
Any further
And I will tell them all
With my hands on my hips
4.
I suppose I am to be inspired
By cotton balls of snow drifting
And landing and exclaiming
But I am me and with me there aren’t rhymes
I’m in New England
I feel a need to cling to tradition
And I giggle in glee when
I see the lobstermen and their traps
Before I have never spent so much time
Being the outsider inside
They ask me where I am from
In thick Boston tones
And I smile proudly
“Brooklyn”
then the questions and then
confessions
well, I’m really a farm girl
from up north
and driving back to my hotel
I have never felt so neither
Here nor there
And when on the phone with
My mom in Hermon
And my friends in Williamsburg
I feel pushed and pulled
Unclaimed luggage somehow
On an errant but gorgeous
Side adventure
I have never been alone this way before
I have and have not
It is a freedom and a delirium
And here I sit
In a room rented for me
Comfortable and warm
Watching the snow fall
Distance and insulating warm-cold
Onto the Atlantic
But not the Atlantic I know at Coney
Not the Atlantic I first put my toe in
In Florida
This is history.
I drive to the downtown
Sinewy, singular, stone paved
1623 Gloucester was found
pre- war, pre-America
and here I am
in a car rented for me
listening to late twentieth music
so out of place
and revealing and revering
I, exquisitely out of time
A traveler of clocks and years and space
My dashboard alit
My mind aflame
Pressing the accelerator
Breathing in the oldest that we know
And demanding to be heard
And to claim my belonging here.
To pull together past and present
Me and myself and I
To yearn to feel one for a bit again
And not drawn and quartered
Belongings and memories scattered
All over the North East.
In seventh grade I did a report on the
Salem Witch Trials
She-Ra dolls glued down firmly
Amongst twigs and crayon flames
Hanging from yarn knots
And sometimes
Now that I am here
I feel the need to apologize
For my simplicity.
I didn't know.
5.
Once upon a time there
was a girl I used to be
Once upon a time there
was a boy you used to be
and once upon a time they
fell in love.
It falls away then
It blurs
It is all relative
It is lost in physics
It is lost in E=mc2
And sometimes when
I shake my head and
try to figure out what happened
clutter clanks and crumbles
inside my head
and I knock against my skull
and say
"keep it down in there!"
and from here it all gets
philosophical
as i sit in bed and smoke
you see
most of the time i am appropriate
i am in tune and in time
and i walk about smiling
and not drenched in the
mist and cobwebs
rattle, rattle, rock and rattle
i glide and sail and exist
as one, at once
but then from outside
from a distance
the girl that i was
lets out a long, low howl
and i feel her thrash
i feel her scream
i can feel her panic
of being let in
and of having been grown out of
and faded
faded faded faded
she haunts
she marrows, she seeps
and then the fist around
my heart loses its grip
and i can stop telling her
i can stop soothing her
i can raise my voice
above a whisper
a desperate plea
and a loving condolance
my darling he is gone
he is gone
he is dead he is gone
you are dead
you are gone
and that's the way it is
and back in never never land
where memories play on loops
and the bad parts are always erased
the ghosts follow and refollow their
paths and when the tape begins to end
a splatter, a reverse
and they begin again
so whenever she steps out
whenever she catches my eye
i walk to her
under the street lamp
and i hug her
corner of grand and graham
and i point and say
that is where you lived
that is where you loved
and now we must all let it go
but it is in vain
because she is rewound
and in the haze
the skipping static
she is standing outside my old door
and he is there
as he used to be
and they are kissing
pressed against the building
new year's, drunk, champagne
and they begin to fall inside
the door flying open against their
heat and weight
and i turn and i turn
because i know how it ends
even if i can't warn them
it's a duality
especially when i come
face to face with your present
self and the bitterness of
constantly wondering how you
could change so much and
speed so far away
and i get so angry when she stalks me
the old me
begging answers
and i wonder what happened to the old you
back across the other side of manhattan
back across the hudson and the east
back in the spirals of jersey
back, caught in the stench of elizabeth
back, all the laughter fades
crashes, it's dust, it's dust now
that billows as you drive
as you speed down the turnpike
and never wonder where i am
and what ever happened
what could have happened
way across the lights
in the dark
in the heart
of brooklyn
where I still lay.
haunted.
1.
I like to throw things away
Big bulging black bags
I like to throw things away
And pretend that it
All just disappears
And no one has to deal with
The remnants of me.
2.
This is what writers want
Quiet first snow New England
Alone in a cottage
city lights too far to see
Windows thrown open
Inviting the winter in
Saying a bright and happy “hello”
But then wishing at the same time
That my visitor does not stay long
And that it does not threaten
To complete me
3.
You, my first true love
I romanced and ravished with you
Then threw you to the drawer
Filed you away alphabetically
Now I drag you out
Dusty and remembered
To feed you to the wolves
And hope again that
You will make me seem more
That I will seem more
Relevant
With a history laid sprawled
And me standing so proudly
Caressing you for their eyes
Maybe they’ll think I’m brave
Maybe then you’ll somehow
Forgive me
For my lack of discipline
And commitment
And my voice will reclaim
And reconquer
As I learn to spell once again
Without red angry
Underlined reminders
Of the student I was
The artist I was
Backspace
Still not right
Then I realize I invented this word
And again we settle
Into a love
Poke and prod
A gentle and soft murmur
I will not let you down
Any further
And I will tell them all
With my hands on my hips
4.
I suppose I am to be inspired
By cotton balls of snow drifting
And landing and exclaiming
But I am me and with me there aren’t rhymes
I’m in New England
I feel a need to cling to tradition
And I giggle in glee when
I see the lobstermen and their traps
Before I have never spent so much time
Being the outsider inside
They ask me where I am from
In thick Boston tones
And I smile proudly
“Brooklyn”
then the questions and then
confessions
well, I’m really a farm girl
from up north
and driving back to my hotel
I have never felt so neither
Here nor there
And when on the phone with
My mom in Hermon
And my friends in Williamsburg
I feel pushed and pulled
Unclaimed luggage somehow
On an errant but gorgeous
Side adventure
I have never been alone this way before
I have and have not
It is a freedom and a delirium
And here I sit
In a room rented for me
Comfortable and warm
Watching the snow fall
Distance and insulating warm-cold
Onto the Atlantic
But not the Atlantic I know at Coney
Not the Atlantic I first put my toe in
In Florida
This is history.
I drive to the downtown
Sinewy, singular, stone paved
1623 Gloucester was found
pre- war, pre-America
and here I am
in a car rented for me
listening to late twentieth music
so out of place
and revealing and revering
I, exquisitely out of time
A traveler of clocks and years and space
My dashboard alit
My mind aflame
Pressing the accelerator
Breathing in the oldest that we know
And demanding to be heard
And to claim my belonging here.
To pull together past and present
Me and myself and I
To yearn to feel one for a bit again
And not drawn and quartered
Belongings and memories scattered
All over the North East.
In seventh grade I did a report on the
Salem Witch Trials
She-Ra dolls glued down firmly
Amongst twigs and crayon flames
Hanging from yarn knots
And sometimes
Now that I am here
I feel the need to apologize
For my simplicity.
I didn't know.
5.
Once upon a time there
was a girl I used to be
Once upon a time there
was a boy you used to be
and once upon a time they
fell in love.
It falls away then
It blurs
It is all relative
It is lost in physics
It is lost in E=mc2
And sometimes when
I shake my head and
try to figure out what happened
clutter clanks and crumbles
inside my head
and I knock against my skull
and say
"keep it down in there!"
and from here it all gets
philosophical
as i sit in bed and smoke
you see
most of the time i am appropriate
i am in tune and in time
and i walk about smiling
and not drenched in the
mist and cobwebs
rattle, rattle, rock and rattle
i glide and sail and exist
as one, at once
but then from outside
from a distance
the girl that i was
lets out a long, low howl
and i feel her thrash
i feel her scream
i can feel her panic
of being let in
and of having been grown out of
and faded
faded faded faded
she haunts
she marrows, she seeps
and then the fist around
my heart loses its grip
and i can stop telling her
i can stop soothing her
i can raise my voice
above a whisper
a desperate plea
and a loving condolance
my darling he is gone
he is gone
he is dead he is gone
you are dead
you are gone
and that's the way it is
and back in never never land
where memories play on loops
and the bad parts are always erased
the ghosts follow and refollow their
paths and when the tape begins to end
a splatter, a reverse
and they begin again
so whenever she steps out
whenever she catches my eye
i walk to her
under the street lamp
and i hug her
corner of grand and graham
and i point and say
that is where you lived
that is where you loved
and now we must all let it go
but it is in vain
because she is rewound
and in the haze
the skipping static
she is standing outside my old door
and he is there
as he used to be
and they are kissing
pressed against the building
new year's, drunk, champagne
and they begin to fall inside
the door flying open against their
heat and weight
and i turn and i turn
because i know how it ends
even if i can't warn them
it's a duality
especially when i come
face to face with your present
self and the bitterness of
constantly wondering how you
could change so much and
speed so far away
and i get so angry when she stalks me
the old me
begging answers
and i wonder what happened to the old you
back across the other side of manhattan
back across the hudson and the east
back in the spirals of jersey
back, caught in the stench of elizabeth
back, all the laughter fades
crashes, it's dust, it's dust now
that billows as you drive
as you speed down the turnpike
and never wonder where i am
and what ever happened
what could have happened
way across the lights
in the dark
in the heart
of brooklyn
where I still lay.
haunted.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Love Many, Trust Few, Paddle Your Own Canoe.
People don't change.
It's the people that exhibit selfish and irresponsible behaviors early when you meet them that -surprise!- end up being selfish and irresponsible.
It's the people that you give 1,000 second chances to that end up disappointing you on 1,001.
I don't want to be hardened, I don't want to be frozen, I don't want to silence the voice in my heart that says this time might be different.
I have changed and grown and deepened over the years. I have seen amazing changes in my own life. I guess that leaves me with an undying optimism about people and about life that is hard to dampen even when I'm drowning.
Lessons are being learned and the fabric of my life and memories and beliefs are being woven. Just sometimes I wish I could learn to pick out the loose threads, to flick of the frayed ends that inevitably become caught up in between the lines.
My insides are juicy and alive and fresh and fruitfully tart and sweet.
Perhaps this is the main conflict of my life, the theme of my story. The never ending battle between the hopeful and the hopeless.
I hope I win.
It's the people that exhibit selfish and irresponsible behaviors early when you meet them that -surprise!- end up being selfish and irresponsible.
It's the people that you give 1,000 second chances to that end up disappointing you on 1,001.
I don't want to be hardened, I don't want to be frozen, I don't want to silence the voice in my heart that says this time might be different.
I have changed and grown and deepened over the years. I have seen amazing changes in my own life. I guess that leaves me with an undying optimism about people and about life that is hard to dampen even when I'm drowning.
Lessons are being learned and the fabric of my life and memories and beliefs are being woven. Just sometimes I wish I could learn to pick out the loose threads, to flick of the frayed ends that inevitably become caught up in between the lines.
My insides are juicy and alive and fresh and fruitfully tart and sweet.
Perhaps this is the main conflict of my life, the theme of my story. The never ending battle between the hopeful and the hopeless.
I hope I win.
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