The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul

Relocating

2007-01-13T15:33:00.000-08:00

This blog will be moving elsewhere and I won't be posting the link on this site.

If you'd like to keep reading as this unfolds or be a part of whatever new work lies ahead, please let me know (here) and I'll send you the link via e-mail. I would appreciate it if you kept the link to yourself.

kisses

Capegirl

backward

2007-01-12T08:48:00.000-08:00

no new editions.

echo and narcissus

2007-01-10T13:14:00.000-08:00

an equanimity of idiocy.

he, poison bloom. she, pollinator.

complacent cloak and dagger discomfort.

the truth or something like it

2007-01-05T06:43:00.000-08:00

beware blue pills disguised as red.

umbrellas shook in anger, make wet spots underneath.

erotickle

2007-01-04T13:39:00.000-08:00

beneath the covers i am snake. i heat up slowly.

i am still. i wait. i hunger.

i navigate flesh with flicking tongue. i slither down, over, under you, inside you. i move in slowly. rolling waters swirl, wash over me, bulging, whirling, moving hard. i move low. i slide slow. i sense storm. thunder roll, lightning crash, rain-heavy air. first rains on dry earth.

i pulse, breathe ions, i hiss. i slice through it. i lash myself to you, clasp your thighs with mine. you are sanctuary. we are heavy, we are clotted cream thick, birth warm, blood sticky, dream fluid. you are sea, you are totem. we are smudged. flames lick, spill over. we are crest, we are trough, we are nipple we are muscled thigh.

it may be time to use a little bit of fang.

soul teacher

2007-01-04T04:30:00.000-08:00

the girl knew that he had moved her. that his hand had closed around her heart, like lilies over tiny ghost frogs.

he is here in the dilation of her pupils, in the photograph she places in the drawer, in the silences and the laughter. in the sweet sweat that collects along the beads of her spine and in the way they look at each other across smoke-filled rooms filled with people who watch them and know.

the way they look at each other. the way they look away.

illuminations

2007-01-03T16:00:00.000-08:00

around and around my shower a jade dragonfly flies, and i, in my underwear trying to stop it from braining itself on the wall. "out here!" say I, using my arms to guide it towards the window. but, no, confused and alarmed it flies in circles, frantically hovering around the light. shivering now, i switch off the light. into the hallway it flies. "more light!", "more light!" it cries. and i, humbled, in my panties. agree.

waving hands

2007-01-03T14:59:00.000-08:00

"goodbye!"

"goodbye!"

they said,

"goodbye!"

then turned around for a final farewell that led them once again to

"goodbye"

my fictional self and i

2007-01-03T09:44:00.000-08:00

pistols at dawn.

what you want to hear

2007-01-02T14:59:00.000-08:00

tonight, with a body that's seen too much sun, too much english toffee frozen yoghurt and entirely too much loving -. i pull the covers up to my nose and hoist my pajamas hoodie over my head. you'd think to keep things from getting in? if you're me, you'd know it's to stop things getting out. i leave just enough space for breathing.

even so

2007-01-02T06:15:00.000-08:00

sometimes, someone, writes so slowly, so gently on your heart, that the little heart pieces begin to mold themselves into something resembling wholeness. sometimes by the time you've realised, the only thing you can do is gaze into the distance. and smile.

to answer your question

2007-01-02T06:05:00.000-08:00

sometimes, a heart has broken many times.

in this case when the boot heel hits there is nothing left to break. each severed piece has formed into many separate entities. like a gecko growing a new tail. many hearts instead of one. many ways to love. many ways to grieve. it then becomes easy to walk away from big, black boots.

Happy New Year Everybody

2006-12-31T02:55:00.000-08:00

thanks for reading here and sharing your own worlds on your blogs.

you're all brave, honest people, who i am proud to know.

i hope 2007 brings you all that you wish for. and then some.

love

Michelle

seabiscuit

2006-12-30T07:55:00.000-08:00

that horse and i have a lot in common. for one thing, i won't let just anybody put a saddle on my back. for another i've plenty of heart. incidentally, i'll ride for you if you know how i like to be treated. we're cut from the same cloth, after all. and i'll always be on your side.

full

2006-12-29T09:16:00.000-08:00

stop.

if you wan't more you'll have to come down from the sky.

please. for the love of all that is

2006-12-29T03:57:00.000-08:00

take the red pill. i've some water. but i'm not sure you're ready to end your suspension in dreams.

karma

2006-12-29T03:36:00.000-08:00

is a lady with whom i'm well aquainted. she surprised me one day when i was weeping in the dust, holding onto a photograph far too tightly.

i'd introduce you, but i'm not sure you'd like her stilettos.

melting ice sculptures

2006-12-29T03:11:00.000-08:00

have a wonderful way of nourishing the grass beneath our feet.

the road to YOU

2006-12-29T03:05:00.000-08:00

i'm not as jaded as you think i am, or as naive as you'd hoped. i've just stopped loving with my eyes closed.

i've insight into this that you can't grasp. not now. the thing you seek does not lie with me, or her. look, beautiful boy, look and see that the magic you seek is within you.

half-moon holding pattern

2006-12-28T16:41:00.000-08:00

peter pan flew and flew and flew and flew. the girl sat on the bank and watched. she knew she'd eventually have to deal with singed wings. but he was, after all, so pretty to look at.

underthings

2006-12-28T16:13:00.000-08:00

jack fell down and broke his crown and jill came tumbling after. fortunately, peeping out from under her pink lacies - knee pads. well used.

fuck

2006-12-28T15:26:00.000-08:00

it.

just let me get that out there. so the pinkness can get in.

he was gone

2006-12-28T12:43:00.000-08:00

before the next full moon. like destiny. oh yes.

we talked today

2006-12-28T10:18:00.000-08:00

with humor about getting older.

and in my 35th year (about halfway perhaps), the voices of debate seem soothingly stilled.

i see them still, the men and women who talk passionately of black and white, of war and peace of hell or not. sometimes i almost start to speak. and then, quietly, my eye drifts off into the distance.

towards wiping away a tear, reading a bedtime story, holding somebody who needs it, listening when it's wanted, loving when it's asked for and especially when it's not. there is no perfect here, in this heart, in this mind, in this soul.

just today a small bubble of anger and then...it fades into pinkness and understanding. until there is nothing left there, but, warmth.

there is no all-knowing-anything here within. it's just the tongue which tires of speech and instead wants to act with love. in the quiet spaces that few see and even less talk about.

no

2006-12-28T03:42:00.001-08:00

scrubs.

disappearing acts

2006-12-28T03:41:00.000-08:00

leave a note.

unknown country

2006-12-28T03:39:00.000-08:00

when navigating your way through dense junglescapes, overconfidence can be a:

fatal error.

chinese astrology

2006-12-26T14:05:00.001-08:00

bad piggy. no biscuit.

minefields

2006-12-26T14:01:00.000-08:00

i don't dare him to take hibiscus from between my thighs, anymore. and i'm less of a cynic.

he says.

except on bad days, when the soft breeze won't cool my skin and my angles feel hard and clumsy. on days when my pinkness won't twirl the way it wants to. he admires the way i don't care what anybody thinks about who i am. I know who this girl is, even when she thinks she doesn't.

"i won that hard baby, you'll not take it from me"

and the italics are mine.

they drift, the little splotches of ire and rise with the heat of the bubbles in my bath, till they burst into a smile that is a little about heat, a little more about roots and a little less about you.

the smile is mine, too.

in italics

2006-12-25T14:12:00.000-08:00

and here the fingertip touches the lip, fixes itself below the chin and simply looks.

here the eye centers on the color of your shirt, the angle of your bicep, the line of your chin, the thrust of your hips. and here, even now, the brain surges up and over, between pink shaded layers, underneath candied tickling tones.

and the heart listens and hears and speaks and dances and straddles you and cossets you and sings to you. it grieves your grief and licks the notes off your lips. the hands cross over the knees into stillness and the eyes focus diagonally. not seeing you, and seeing you.and having looked for the first time.

to see the tinsel reflected in your eye, to taste the salt-spatter on your cheek, to count a woman's tears, that still lie on your pillow like slug trails that you follow into the night.

flash forward

2006-12-25T13:27:00.000-08:00

365 days later, i sneak up behind you and cover your eyes with my hands.

you barely feel my lips brush the space between earlobe and jawline. reaching up, you remove my fingertips, and not with your fist.

lovely boy.

a piece of my heart will always shimmer with the angles of your name.

four-leaf clover

2006-12-23T10:53:00.000-08:00

he is beyond beautiful.

in spaces where men strive, he simply is.

as complete as breath, as raw as earth, as gentle as morning.

we are already home.

remembering gaia

2006-12-22T15:31:00.000-08:00

stop

2006-12-22T15:28:00.000-08:00

breathe

eye vs. eye

2006-12-22T06:50:00.000-08:00

"you know, don't you, how much i despise all this touchy-feely stuff?"

"yes"

"it's not that i have anything against feelings you know, I just don't...really know why they're there"

my eyes have become rather large. the soft strains of guitar music beginning to permeate my consciousness.

"have we met?"

photograph

2006-12-22T03:58:00.000-08:00

his eye is intimate agony against her skin.

she is never part of that dull landscape

unspoken words fracture
the air between them.

through the lens she smiles
he screams.

beautiful girl

2006-12-20T09:31:00.000-08:00

let it go.

mostly

2006-12-18T14:05:00.000-08:00

she loved the way he played.

interlude

2006-12-18T01:34:00.000-08:00

"it gets really dark in here, sometimes" said the girl with the butterfly wings

" i don't mind the dark and i'm not scared" said the boy with the beautiful blue eyes. "i'll sit with you a while. Your eyes will adjust to the light"

evening

2006-12-15T15:46:00.000-08:00

the girl liked the way beads of sweat collected in the small of her back. and the way her breasts fell together when she lay on her side. she liked the way she smelled and how her panties fitted her just right.

she moved restlessly under the covers. she liked the way the breeze touched her bare shoulders and the way the sheet felt under her hip. she could feel a single tendril of hair lifting in the breeze tickling her ear and she liked the way she chose not to wipe it away.

a single candle flickers near the bed and the girl watches the shadows it throws against the wall. she watches the tree from her nest. it's majesty, the lights playing on the resin in its leaves. she likes the way she can hear owls in the distance and how she knows a peacock will sing at precisely 5h15 a.m. hopeful in the dawn.

vortex

2006-12-15T13:53:00.001-08:00

the difference between you and i she said, planting her feet squarely on the ground, is i don't believe you've ever played with glitter.

I don't think you'd know how to open the bottle, toss it into the air and dive underneath it for no reason other than to feel it fall onto your skin.

i don't believe you'd know how it feels to want to lay down amongst flower petals and feel them against your naked skin, just because they're there and you can, and isn't that what life's really about?

it's friday and you've suddenly remembered.

"it's no matter", I say.

"i haven't really been here anyway"

urgency

2006-12-15T13:37:00.000-08:00

"I've no time for idle anythings" she whispered. to nobody in particular.

she pushed her hair up onto the top of her head then slowly let it fall again. the sigh that escaped her lips woke nobody.

slowly she sank her head down to the desk and rubbed the aching space between her shoulder blades.

she stayed there for a very long time.

dreamchildren

2006-12-15T07:41:00.000-08:00

they feared the ancient spaces, the tiny rivulets of wonder between breath and blood
so long hidden, now, in locked boxes underneath beds.

in pockets against strong thighs. inbetween the pages of dusty books.

the recognition hurts them, like white-hot fire lashing against their bare knees.

dying to warm the still-flickering embers of their fragile hearts.

to resurface in the slightest whispered breeze.

william's brittle eden

2006-12-15T02:44:00.000-08:00

some days I live in reverse.

but you've already heard this story.

remember?

“once upon a time a princess lost her way in the woods, and try as she might she could not find her way home”

it happens. and not just in fairy tales.

these are days of kneeling horses and unframed mirrors. here, juicy, gypsy violins mock this Eden face and I follow your grassy imprints into the olive grove, once again. and again. and again.

and you’ll adore me and undress me, and I won’t say no because I never did and I always do, and it’s who we were:

juicy

and I’m soothed by the rhythm of “that” song, the corazon of that song. and all its bloody damnation. as though somehow you are forever trapped within it, a tiny chalcedony butterfly.…..

“and I’ll do anything you ever dreamed to be complete
little pieces of the nothing that fall
oh, put your arms around me
what you feel is what you are
and what you are is beautiful”

i might have listened harder, heard the inequalities in those words but I played for higher stakes, and I lost. and i don't go there anymore.

later, when the Braille days move forward, I’ll tell you that I didn’t lose the lesson, just you. I’ll tell you that your red leather dreams were just that. dreams. i’ll convince you that this misted season is over and that, you, philosopher king, have been relinquished to the engravings of the past. i can be quite convincing about the white cliffs of Dover. especially since you’ve tumbled over them.

next time will be different. next week, next year, next month, I won’t let you take me there.

and then I remember my twelfth year. i think about the boy, Sean, shy and lanky…a philosophical politician…smiling sadly and handing me a love poem scrawled on a piece of pink paper, a drawing of a dove flanking the title. and, just for a moment, I feel, no, I know that love in all its forms leaves little pieces of hope-etched pinkness curled up inside your heart. And that you’ll come back again for more.

even when it’s over.

but next year, I won't go with you. I'll stay home and eat watermelon instead

won’t i.

(lyrics from "Slide" by the Goo Goo Dolls)

cancer

2006-06-29T16:22:00.000-07:00

you are a festering whore.

perfect?

2006-06-28T16:29:00.000-07:00

not here, not love.

inner knowing

2006-06-28T16:27:00.000-07:00

to touch you, even once, would be to never walk away.

mr rorschach

2006-06-05T14:23:00.000-07:00

i know this might come as something of a surprise.

you and i both know how long i've held on to the dusty, rose-colored corners of my mind. and i love a titillating mystery the way i love old books and what did or didn't happen at roswell.

but quite honestly, these cards you've been showing me...

i'm beginning to see, well...

inkblots.

moving house

2006-06-01T15:29:00.000-07:00

export quality arrgghh.

irritation

2006-06-01T08:45:00.000-07:00

there's something about him that i just can't stand about myself.

you exist, i'm sure

2006-05-30T22:18:00.000-07:00

but only in the spaces between breaths. a bond built on a lie means you have to keep pretending it's something it's not.

what is it, exactly, we're pretending it's not?

on any other night

2006-05-30T18:21:00.000-07:00

this isn't a love-hate relationship.

it's just love.

tossed around on stormy seas, a sullen strand of seaweed fastened tightly around its wrist.

DYI

2006-05-30T13:28:00.000-07:00

"you'd feel better", he said "if you weren't so self-aware all the time"

"really"

"yeah! i suggest dumbing it down a bit. it'll help.

"really?" is that what you do? is that why you hardly ever have a feather out of place?"

"no. i'm just naturally stupid"

"oh. cool. so i need to just stop thinking then"

"er..yeah..what are you doing"

"oh, just a little lobotomy"

definitely reccommended

2006-05-29T23:13:00.000-07:00

dancing Shakira style to the delight of your bedroom mirror.

things to avoid

2006-05-29T23:09:00.000-07:00

placing yourself
in inverted commas.

things to acquire

2006-05-27T20:26:00.000-07:00

a little more brain in my heart, a little more heart in my brain.

i was sad

2006-05-27T20:15:00.000-07:00

when i thought i'd lost you.

quotations

2006-05-27T13:57:00.000-07:00

"well that was a total rocking, kick-ass blast, and i'm not even tired! woo! let's do it all over again in the next life. that being who you really are thing i decided to do when i was thirty-five was some serious good shit!" ~ capegirl age 99.

addiction

2006-05-27T13:46:00.000-07:00

i never thought i'd ever drink less coffee. but then there are a lot things i didn't think i'd ever do. like push-ups, and letting go of you. it's never been the object - it's the feeling you're looking for. i just want different feelings. it's work i'm happy to do.

unbearable lightness

2006-05-26T13:24:00.000-07:00

my desire broke and fell. scattering into a million prisms. down and down and down and down. deeper and deeper until the colors became your name, sang your name, spiralled into you and melded into a single glowing, desperate light.

and then

2006-05-25T20:08:00.000-07:00

my skin would taste the sweat from your skin, and trace hearts across your pain.

until

2006-05-25T20:01:00.000-07:00

the pearls that nestle
between my breasts
wait for
whispers from
your heart

special offer

2006-05-25T19:50:00.000-07:00

and he gave her the night and the moon and the rush of blood and the sense of succour. batteries not included.

and each time the boy appeared

2006-05-25T19:49:00.000-07:00

rapunzel let down her hair.

for a good time call:

2006-05-25T14:38:00.000-07:00

somebody else.

unless you like your girls covered in Vicks and sneezing paroxysm-style.

a boy and a girl saw stars

2006-05-25T14:19:00.000-07:00

they were brave, they were determined. and even though it hurt to look, they did.

intimacy

2006-05-23T18:49:00.000-07:00

its all in the hips and the sweat and the hair, you see.

and the lips and the whispers. its in the hard and the fast and the sweet and the slow. and the being and the aching and wanting. its in the toes and the knees and the biting and the rough and the gentle and the exquisite and the plain.

its here in the heart and here in the brain and here and here and here and there and everywhere and everything. its in the 'where did that come from?' and the 'i knew that was coming' and the 'let's do it again' and the 'i've never done that before'.

its in the bucking and the swaying and the heat and the breath and in the moment that isn't and is and isn't and is. its in the passion and the tears and the inside and the out. and the neck and the need and the taste and the feed.

and in the more and the madness that words can't measure.

gut feelings

2006-05-23T18:14:00.000-07:00

shall we dance, sweet pilgrim? or should we remain just so with our backs against the wall? i enjoy you so much it hurts. right where it shouldn't. but such is the way it is at times. the scales are oft dreadfully unbalanced. ask any chinstrap penguin.

today

2006-05-23T10:11:00.000-07:00

a news broadcast tells us 18 people were thrown from trains this week, that there is snow on the mountains and freezing temperatures. that people are freezing on the streets and hungry and wet. icicles stick to their foreheads and the cash-strapped salvation army is all that stands between them and more misery. houses are flooded and hailstones the size of duck eggs batter already tattered homes. it's another day in south africa. another baby dead, another corruption trial. another dark night. somehow it feels hard to crack a smile.

what they tell me, what i know

2006-05-22T16:38:00.000-07:00

i have a brain that sometimes doesn't work too well. it has moments of fogginess - much like a television with too much static. my senses on the other hand are an entirely different matter.

sometimes

2006-05-22T15:37:00.000-07:00

our best friends are the ones that call us on our shit. not the ones that hide in the dark with us, talking about tragedies.

william part 2

2006-05-21T18:27:00.000-07:00

courtesy sinead lohan ~

"We went down to the edge of the water
You were afraid to go in
You said there might be sharks out there in the ocean
And I said i'm only going for a swim

I was swimming around in a circle
I wasn't always in view
You said we might get into red flag danger
And I am alone when i'm not with you

But I am no mermaid
I am no mermaid
And I am no fisherman's slave
I am no mermaid
I am no mermaid
I keep my head above the waves

We were swinging from the centre of the ceiling
You were afraid to give in
I said I know i'll always live for this feeling
And you closed your eyes you said never again

We were dancing in the middle of the desert
You said we'll burn under the hot sun
I said i'd rather be the colour of pleasure
Than watch like you from under the thumb"

~ and that, my love, will make all the difference.

truthfully

2006-05-21T14:39:00.000-07:00

put away your long-stemmed roses and red, silk scarves.

i don't seek the kind of power you long to possess. long before you were a gleam on the horizon, i watched my father with a keen eye. there is not much i cannot guess about a man. daddy was a player like that.

but what do you bring that i have not yet seen? can you stand before me naked, and love without the promise of gain? can you loosen the silk ribbons of your casanova cape and weep before me? will you hear your own heart?

and, right now, before this goes any further, realize you are not the answer to my prayers. i don't pray that way.

residual image

2006-05-21T14:38:00.000-07:00

my fathers stout frame
is nothing like my own
but i mirror his stubborness
quite robustly

when there's something weird

2006-05-21T11:40:00.000-07:00

i ain't afraid of no ghosts.

sleep waking

2006-05-20T20:09:00.000-07:00

these dreams are shouting at me. i wake in abstract wonderment and remember each detail clearly. you are vivid in a way you are not once i have washed my face and swallowed my first dose of morning coffee.

closed doors

2006-05-20T20:05:00.000-07:00

tonights mindwalk leads me, via vine covered ground, straight to your door. i would knock if i thought you would hear me. but i'm not sure you're home. maybe you're just out, knocking on your own silent door.

william

2006-05-20T17:18:00.000-07:00

of all the places i have ever been you were the warmest.

saying goodbye to yesterday should feel like i'm losing you forever, but i've loved harder and longer than things that have cut me too deep. i'll never feel i've lost you, not like that.

when you feel in your very core, deep into spaces that have never been touched - you cannot live around it, or manage it, or move on from it. you can only live within it and it within you. as i have and do and always will. even as i know that a part of me will always feel the sadness and the joy of you. a big part and a small part all at the same time.

but you were many things all at the same time. and so were we and so am i, now.

i'm not the mermaid i once was. i'm different now and i sing different songs. a lot of that is thanks to you and even more is despite the loss of you. but i always knew you'd be big and so you were. and so you always will be.

like the ashes that were never scattered you and i were locked into something that would never really end. it's not wishful thinking when i say you're eternal because you are here with me now and in everything i do and in the colors that have never seemed as bright as when you were near. and in the colors that i still seek, even though they look a little pale. because while i am loved and cherished greatly, nobody can do it quite like you. but that, of course is the story you wrote me.

these steps

2006-05-20T17:16:00.000-07:00

are not small.

amigo

2006-05-18T19:45:00.000-07:00

to the friends who have stayed true no matter what changes they witnessed in me in the past five years. thank you - for not being a slave to instant gratification. to those who drifted off because i wasn't as much 'the giver' as usual, i hope you're happy too. we all can be.

magic

2006-05-18T19:43:00.000-07:00

there is nothing quite like the sound of a beating heart.

whatever you do

2006-05-17T16:11:00.000-07:00

don't blame the boy. if his trinkets caught your eye, you must have been looking in his direction.

silence

2006-05-17T16:09:00.000-07:00

is also an answer.

hindsight

2006-05-17T16:06:00.000-07:00

i was mistaken

~chicken little

blogs

2006-05-17T12:55:00.000-07:00

make effective weapons of mass distraction. don't they?

waltz

2006-05-17T12:49:00.000-07:00

i dance an intimate dance with myself. when i am done the sticky sweat seems to indicate that muscle has been stretched furter than i thought it might go. you are responsible for each and every way that you feel. sucks don't it?

dear me

2006-05-17T12:47:00.000-07:00

people who write books, write books. i'm just saying.

pulling the trigger

2006-05-17T12:44:00.000-07:00

this is a pretty word, followed by another pretty word, punctuated by an intelligent word and an interesting insight. three more pretty words follow. all this amounts to: very little in the absence of action, presuming, of course that you wish to move.

i have it on good authority

2006-05-12T16:51:00.000-07:00

that sadness doesn't kill you. it also creates the kind of wrinkles that lend to the face an incredibly mysterious appeal. i quite like it, these days. i see life here, in this face.

to answer your question

2006-05-12T16:24:00.000-07:00

that boys heart is so rigid that it's almost locked in a box. to distract himself he almost falls in love, over and over and over again. it's a pity that only he has the key because it's a really good heart. you can see the light shining through the airholes.

resolutions

2006-05-11T10:12:00.000-07:00

this year i'm giving up control. i never had any, anyway. it's a bit like perfectionism, which i gave up when i was twenty-four. imagine putting so much energy into something that actually doesn't exist. it's rather elitist.

ar some point

2006-05-11T06:18:00.000-07:00

who you are becomes a choice.

bloggerlution

2006-05-08T16:34:00.000-07:00

and as they changed, so too did their blogs. some were left behind, their once cherished nicknames no longer needed. some wait in sleepy silence. there is, after all, the possibility of regression. some are in flux, soon to be discarded on a pile of no regrets. some are simply not required, right now. maybe soon.

or soonish.

some die with one posting. perhaps the writer did too. or maybe, instead, he lived.

i really don't care

2006-05-05T18:10:00.000-07:00

in which fashionable literary magazine your poetry has been published. i want to see the ones you didn't send in.

where do they all belong?

2006-05-03T18:43:00.000-07:00

i looked up and saw loneliness..

i saw it in the girl wearing chagrin like a badge and punching at little things that hang in the air like tail ends of lullabies.

i saw it in the girl using sex like a fishing lure. as though being able to titillate a man was any great feat or a triumph worthy of the effort. surely there must be more to you than your need for attention? and a better way to get it, if that's all there is.

i saw it in the girl determined to be honest against all odds as though losing her grip for an instant would see her shatter like a crystal star against the night sky.

i saw it in the man who thinks his way through life as though one day, one day, when the stench of his fearfulness is covered in answers he will know... anything.

i saw it in the written and most of all in the still to be penned.

if loneliness is feeling like you sometimes cannot relate to the world, then i, too, am lonely. if it means whoring who i am for a little attention, then loneliness may be the only feeling i have ever escaped.

you are all worth so much more.

namaste.

conversations in the kitchen

2006-04-12T15:51:00.000-07:00

you

with your earthy focus
ask me (daily)
why i do not
use my beautiful voice
or make use of the
dance i have longed
to perfect
to express my feelings

i twist a strand
of hair around my fingers
and tell you (daily)
that I am thirty-four going on six
and I need to get this
off my chest before i do

you

with your inexhaustable urgency
ask me if i think
i'm going to live forever

don't be daft, i tell you
that is why god gave me
the hips and legs of
an eternal sixteen year old
and a voice that grows
more rich with age

he knew i was going to be
slightly delayed

for transience

2006-04-12T15:11:00.000-07:00

one does not have to be direct to be honest or real. some of the most direct people i know hide much and lie plenty. you're plenty talented and plenty realistic. rock on haremgirl.

dear camera shy

2006-04-12T15:10:00.000-07:00

i peek through my right hand.

spring cleaning

2006-04-12T14:45:00.000-07:00

as he fell off his pedestal, i heard a tiny "thunk". it was really rather an anti-climax. absolutely no rosy glow afterwards.

folk tales and other interesting tidbits

2006-04-11T18:41:00.000-07:00

like all good folk tales, each time the story is told it is a little different.

how wonderful, then, to embellish the details slightly or leave out certain parts of the tale on any given day; as old men did around campfires in an ancient Swaziland. as twigs crackled in the dwindling tangerine light, these men would not have believed that one day such tales would appear via wireless technology.

but if they'd shared this information, no doubt a gasp would have escaped the lips of their listeners as they wondered: "what sort of alchemy is this?" because it's easy to make people believe what we want them to...when we're telling stories.

like bits of indigo-dyed cloth given as a brides price our reward is a wide-eyed audience eager to hear the next installment of our journey, the next train ride into memory or helicopter flip into a much-hoped for future.

but i would be alarmed if three years on i was still telling the same tales. repeating the same understandings, treading the same murky water, or bouncing on the extent of my own mind. so let's not do that.

i love all of you who comment here. you are all individuals with good solid minds of your own, but able to reach and stretch and think outside the box and that is huge...HUGE in this life. you are my favorite kinds of people. for those who visit every day but remain silent, i would love to meet you, so please say hello next time you pass this way. i often wonder who you are.

i will, probably continue to use this space as a way to express what otherwise would remain deeply hidden. it's my way of processing my feelings. the trick here is moving on, not staying stuck in an endless stream of words, where i say the same thing in a million novel ways . if i'm still writing this way in 6 months time...stop me.