What is buddhism?
-A crazy little
bird blub.
-Kerouac haiku
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Monday, September 14, 2009
Spoon ginger slices into the circle,
my taste buds capture individual specks of flavor,
following the patterns of old habits.
You're not who you are ALL THE TIME just because you do those things you do.
And I judged myself too quickly,
picking up scattered bits of full tummies
overindulged in dairy,
wondering why my stomach wont stop talking to me,
Practicing sign language so I can learn to communicate
with the mirror.
I took a break from everyone's opinions today,
and came back for me.
my taste buds capture individual specks of flavor,
following the patterns of old habits.
You're not who you are ALL THE TIME just because you do those things you do.
And I judged myself too quickly,
picking up scattered bits of full tummies
overindulged in dairy,
wondering why my stomach wont stop talking to me,
Practicing sign language so I can learn to communicate
with the mirror.
I took a break from everyone's opinions today,
and came back for me.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
feeling like i'm missing something i cant place into black lines, and frozen liquids. skirting around being here, around you too, when i feel the weight of your stance but cant feel anything,
and i've never experienced feeling nothing and everything for you at the same time.
Feeling strange,
feeling old,
feeling identity.
I'm not sure if it's necessary to say that I used to be in love,
with someone who loved me back. but now i cant imagine what that would be like again or how that all even starts. the funny thing is i think i get how it ends. because it does and then you're left with yourself, and no fucking net!
and it's good but then what do you do?
and i've never experienced feeling nothing and everything for you at the same time.
Feeling strange,
feeling old,
feeling identity.
I'm not sure if it's necessary to say that I used to be in love,
with someone who loved me back. but now i cant imagine what that would be like again or how that all even starts. the funny thing is i think i get how it ends. because it does and then you're left with yourself, and no fucking net!
and it's good but then what do you do?
Sunday, July 26, 2009
I have that missing piece,
the slice of nausious stomachs,
it vibrates between my head and heart with stunning clarity.
My mother says it's like addictions,
(I've had those too)
but this one has no weekly meetings.
My father was a playful man,
he balanced her practicality.
And now I'm thinking, maybe I'm not really missing anything at all,
but the myth we're fed of special women captivating narcisstic men,
trying to keep the faithful.
But my mother and I retreat from the game,
disbelieving the veil of competition.
the slice of nausious stomachs,
it vibrates between my head and heart with stunning clarity.
My mother says it's like addictions,
(I've had those too)
but this one has no weekly meetings.
My father was a playful man,
he balanced her practicality.
And now I'm thinking, maybe I'm not really missing anything at all,
but the myth we're fed of special women captivating narcisstic men,
trying to keep the faithful.
But my mother and I retreat from the game,
disbelieving the veil of competition.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Why do the poor bless me when I can't give no change?
And what's this toothless woman doing keeping a broken down car?
She hasn't got the parts to salvage.
You broke my heart, old man, shuffling an inch at a time,
feeling in your pockets for soggy green.
Money sweats like skin in this humidity and only the poor thank the lord
it don't disintegrate.
Old and poor.
You left me that message, saying it wouldn't be you.
And I can't place blame,
Because who wants to be stuck blessing those that don't help you?
And what's this toothless woman doing keeping a broken down car?
She hasn't got the parts to salvage.
You broke my heart, old man, shuffling an inch at a time,
feeling in your pockets for soggy green.
Money sweats like skin in this humidity and only the poor thank the lord
it don't disintegrate.
Old and poor.
You left me that message, saying it wouldn't be you.
And I can't place blame,
Because who wants to be stuck blessing those that don't help you?
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
It's so funny when you realize that the first time you came and the first time you left home are shaking hands. I've married elation with the flee of new beginnings and they get me off. I'm not sure which starts I've finished or which endings I've avoided all together, which people I've pissed off, who I've learned from. 2 years of playing adult has made me feel the part and I'm nervous about losing my sanity once I'm back to being coddled. Nervous to lose what I've worked so hard for. But I know I'll bring it all to the table, every lesson learned and I'm sure I'll have to re-learn a few of them too.
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