You’re a blank page and I am a jammed pen.
Every morning I wake up with possibilities and minutes visualized in seconds telling me there’s time to conquer the world. Then my brain freezes. So many thoughts get caught in a traffic jam on the platform of my imagination and I stop. Moving. Time slows. I stare into an abyss of darkened windows and closed doors and I cry into the future I cannot see. Yet. No tears, just bewilderment. Joy in the beauty of spontaneity.
My mind is full of locomotive trains pulling thoughts instead of cargo,
Fumes building into my collective subconscious until the day’s reached it’s end, and I can breathe.
Some weeks take a really long time to reach Friday.
2009/07/30
2009/07/05
The Subway
A mother daughter duo of mutual snobbery practice general yuppyism.
The mother turns her head aside while the daughter points her gaze downward
into her mother's palms, where the New York Times appears to be held for her perusal; it isnt.
She's merely holding the paper in a sense of lofty apathy so as not to stain her fingertips with its ink.
The mother wears fake pearls, rustic, perhaps made of wood.
They don't interact, retaining their gazes in the opposite direction of each others.
People wear dresses without smiles.
Glasses without swagger.
Pearls without grace.
New York at 9am without a caffeine injection.
The mother turns her head aside while the daughter points her gaze downward
into her mother's palms, where the New York Times appears to be held for her perusal; it isnt.
She's merely holding the paper in a sense of lofty apathy so as not to stain her fingertips with its ink.
The mother wears fake pearls, rustic, perhaps made of wood.
They don't interact, retaining their gazes in the opposite direction of each others.
People wear dresses without smiles.
Glasses without swagger.
Pearls without grace.
New York at 9am without a caffeine injection.
2009/06/30
Resurrecting Fossils
“Too Late”
In my heart, and the still ashes of my bereaved memories
I realize now may be the wrong time to get close to you.
Because though you may think I’ve been with creeps, egomaniacal landmines of men, I’ve known Love. Once
(And I miss him every day)
Miss those nights of pain, blood, and madness
Because he always knew how to turn a scream into a sigh,
a wish into the attained.
He was mocked for his passion, hated upon for it they thought
it couldn’t be genuine.
More real than their own egos built up self-perceptions.
He first saw me as an appearing clarity round face, loud mouth in the middle of a crowded line at Duane Reade and I made him mine
before knowing he was what I wanted.
No that love amid one star resorts in European beach towns, and city intersections it
had no fucking chance at survival.
Just goes to say that while we may want
with all our bits of ambition,
our hearts can retain the stains of even our most surface interludes.
Calming me with a matched wail,
he valued my dreams as though they were his own.
Many mistakes later, seemingly endless moments of solitude
with him still inside of me.
Somehow he no longer heard my voice
my scars began to soften, though never fade.
In a flash, my womanhood renewed,
you appeared
And so I’m wondering what you’re thinking.
Why I feel, our roles, as pupil and instructor seem to reverse, and revert so often.
I’m wondering who’s the stronger one.
But seriously, I’m curious about those long fingers, those soft,
Mirthful eyes,
Smiling lines,
that chest slapping rhythm hunger of your soul
And what they have to offer.
Because although the clock seems to be no longer ticking away the chances-
my time is to be cherished,
not necessarily bottled by the handsome ignorant.
In my heart, and the still ashes of my bereaved memories
I realize now may be the wrong time to get close to you.
Because though you may think I’ve been with creeps, egomaniacal landmines of men, I’ve known Love. Once
(And I miss him every day)
Miss those nights of pain, blood, and madness
Because he always knew how to turn a scream into a sigh,
a wish into the attained.
He was mocked for his passion, hated upon for it they thought
it couldn’t be genuine.
More real than their own egos built up self-perceptions.
He first saw me as an appearing clarity round face, loud mouth in the middle of a crowded line at Duane Reade and I made him mine
before knowing he was what I wanted.
No that love amid one star resorts in European beach towns, and city intersections it
had no fucking chance at survival.
Just goes to say that while we may want
with all our bits of ambition,
our hearts can retain the stains of even our most surface interludes.
Calming me with a matched wail,
he valued my dreams as though they were his own.
Many mistakes later, seemingly endless moments of solitude
with him still inside of me.
Somehow he no longer heard my voice
my scars began to soften, though never fade.
In a flash, my womanhood renewed,
you appeared
And so I’m wondering what you’re thinking.
Why I feel, our roles, as pupil and instructor seem to reverse, and revert so often.
I’m wondering who’s the stronger one.
But seriously, I’m curious about those long fingers, those soft,
Mirthful eyes,
Smiling lines,
that chest slapping rhythm hunger of your soul
And what they have to offer.
Because although the clock seems to be no longer ticking away the chances-
my time is to be cherished,
not necessarily bottled by the handsome ignorant.
2009/05/31
It's not hard to live this life
Eyes opening in the dark still find their way towards the door.
Reflexes sharper, than softer with practice; I've never belonged to anyone.
Mornings rife with yawns and nostalgia in a sunrise.
Do not fear, I won't let you get too close.
I am the elixir to co-dependence.
It'll come as a surprise; my words.
They may be perceived as a door closing; they're not.
Only warnings. I like to run.
Writing in the attempt to find answers,
I pose my questions more specifically.
Speaking, I cannot control the order.
Reflexes sharper, than softer with practice; I've never belonged to anyone.
Mornings rife with yawns and nostalgia in a sunrise.
Do not fear, I won't let you get too close.
I am the elixir to co-dependence.
It'll come as a surprise; my words.
They may be perceived as a door closing; they're not.
Only warnings. I like to run.
Writing in the attempt to find answers,
I pose my questions more specifically.
Speaking, I cannot control the order.
2009/05/17
When I returned from Brazil, I wrote many little ditties
Silken ocean waves sweep away my thoughts on unrequited love,
and I am awakened to a future with salt water saturating my hair,
laughter bubbling in my lungs.
Sweet and hard, freshly picked fruit .
A hammock in the shadows.
and I am awakened to a future with salt water saturating my hair,
laughter bubbling in my lungs.
Sweet and hard, freshly picked fruit .
A hammock in the shadows.
2009/04/05
Do You See Me?
I never said I didn't enjoy that song.
Being alone doesn't mean
your heart needs blood to pump
the subsconcious peripheral
Visions of ecstacy.
Waking up in your arms does not
so easily lead to our heads
meeting in a world of dreams,
faces so much alike each other
Fantasies taking place in reality.
This is dissonance.
A quiet madness
I've created to ease
the anxiety.
Orange puffiness
A peed on cloud
disguised as a coat,
swept back curls of salt and pepper
Brown loafers pinned in
a gold clasp.,
Which is merely decorative.
Laughter and sadness
masked by the need to simply
not care
apathy in the form of basic bliss.
I'm sucking on my cheeks
watching the ink swirl upon
these conforming, lined pages
Belle & Sebastian moaning
beautiful nonsense.
Once in awhile I look to
see what stop it is
So many emotions
cured by these numerable
sweeps of passion,
pulsating anticipation
in the messy angles.
If I have been poisoned
by an insect
a toad
a craft amphibian.
Let this be the worst poison
I will have to cure.
Do you see me?
Being alone doesn't mean
your heart needs blood to pump
the subsconcious peripheral
Visions of ecstacy.
Waking up in your arms does not
so easily lead to our heads
meeting in a world of dreams,
faces so much alike each other
Fantasies taking place in reality.
This is dissonance.
A quiet madness
I've created to ease
the anxiety.
Orange puffiness
A peed on cloud
disguised as a coat,
swept back curls of salt and pepper
Brown loafers pinned in
a gold clasp.,
Which is merely decorative.
Laughter and sadness
masked by the need to simply
not care
apathy in the form of basic bliss.
I'm sucking on my cheeks
watching the ink swirl upon
these conforming, lined pages
Belle & Sebastian moaning
beautiful nonsense.
Once in awhile I look to
see what stop it is
So many emotions
cured by these numerable
sweeps of passion,
pulsating anticipation
in the messy angles.
If I have been poisoned
by an insect
a toad
a craft amphibian.
Let this be the worst poison
I will have to cure.
Do you see me?
Cradling My Tenderness In Wishes
I continue to fantasize
the curve of my body curling
down to be emcompassed
by a neverending sheet
of white silk, transparant yet
masking my skin-tender from
Abuse and hardship.
I fold and the silk envelops
my sorrow.
Insecurities.
I am a child. It's heart in the breast
of a woman
full grown,
stripped of motherhood.
Everything lingers. In the heart.
The mind.
All of our struggles and hardships
Shaped and tucked away in the nooks
created in the deepest
most buried compartments of
my consciousness.
I pray for relief.
To no God.
No. To a dream.
Of silk chiffoned silence,
Hushed mouths,
Repressed anger.
Truth masked
in comedy.
the curve of my body curling
down to be emcompassed
by a neverending sheet
of white silk, transparant yet
masking my skin-tender from
Abuse and hardship.
I fold and the silk envelops
my sorrow.
Insecurities.
I am a child. It's heart in the breast
of a woman
full grown,
stripped of motherhood.
Everything lingers. In the heart.
The mind.
All of our struggles and hardships
Shaped and tucked away in the nooks
created in the deepest
most buried compartments of
my consciousness.
I pray for relief.
To no God.
No. To a dream.
Of silk chiffoned silence,
Hushed mouths,
Repressed anger.
Truth masked
in comedy.
2009/04/02
I Knew It Then
In the looping rhythm and melody of El Ten,
The unspoken, unwritten lyrics of my heart
Wait impatiently to dispel their true intentions.
The pen stops and my dreams (fantasies) capture my focus
Unveiling hidden wishes
Your hand finding mine in the darkness for we rarely see
eachother's faces in the light of day.The well in my mind never runs out
Of ink when you're on it.
I won't allow myself to seek you out,
Fear stills my feet from stepping onto
The platform of rejection. Its just
These moments when I find myself
Seeking out the comfort of sleep beneath the glow
Of a setting sun that the passion
I feel fails to dissipate and I inflict the pain
Upon my fingers, wrist locking in place,
Wishing I could just forget your beautiful imperfections.
The turning point that is our lives
Will inevitably draw us upon opposite paths,
And knowing I cannot follow you
For need to seize my own
I remain still , rocking my feet from toes to heel
Wrapping myself in an embrace as you
Drift further and further.
Baby, I call you dude to remind myself
Of the reality
And while I may be just another woman for whom you failed
To feel nothing but lust and
Perhaps good company,
Yearning for adventure
I do not mind
For I know I've made a deep enough imprint
So that I will never be forgotten.
The unspoken, unwritten lyrics of my heart
Wait impatiently to dispel their true intentions.
The pen stops and my dreams (fantasies) capture my focus
Unveiling hidden wishes
Your hand finding mine in the darkness for we rarely see
eachother's faces in the light of day.The well in my mind never runs out
Of ink when you're on it.
I won't allow myself to seek you out,
Fear stills my feet from stepping onto
The platform of rejection. Its just
These moments when I find myself
Seeking out the comfort of sleep beneath the glow
Of a setting sun that the passion
I feel fails to dissipate and I inflict the pain
Upon my fingers, wrist locking in place,
Wishing I could just forget your beautiful imperfections.
The turning point that is our lives
Will inevitably draw us upon opposite paths,
And knowing I cannot follow you
For need to seize my own
I remain still , rocking my feet from toes to heel
Wrapping myself in an embrace as you
Drift further and further.
Baby, I call you dude to remind myself
Of the reality
And while I may be just another woman for whom you failed
To feel nothing but lust and
Perhaps good company,
Yearning for adventure
I do not mind
For I know I've made a deep enough imprint
So that I will never be forgotten.
2009/03/15
I'm attracted to vulnerable men
Perhaps I'd even go so far as to say that one of my creature comforts is providing companionship, and inspiration to my partners.
It is a one way street that leaves me feeling antsy, and alone once I've grown adjusted to the look of the place.
In the end, I'm sought after by these creatures, as they are reminded from the day I leave and every one after that I was their muse. The prevention from their own self destruction.
I don't mind it.
In the end it simply would be more convenient to be the needy one, as opposed to the provider.
2008/06/16
You and Me
You
The elusive wanderer
Multi lingual chameleon constantly told you simply don’t belong
Your love for the road has made you a ghost
Yet your warmth soothes even the coldest hearts
Rendering icicles of these dated tears
Set to crack crumble and tear down these walls
With the comfort of your company.
You
The angel I met at a local bar
My outfit a myriad of hues and fabrics
Complete with straw hat, clearly
I wasn’t expecting the shadow of your gaze
To illuminate my foggy and often
Invisible self confidance
The intimacy’s intensity remains alarming.
Me
I like being called Baby and
I don’t mind the heat your palms provide my thighs
Fingertips as ten strong shovels sifting away the dry soil
Tongues sweeping away the flavors
Of my unsavory past
I thrive on the spontaneity you embrace while smiling
To see my courage inspires your own mid morning trysts.
During this rut one reward is orgasms.
Me
I thank you for not breaking the connections
Our eyes made
Allowing me to prod my defenses up on a flag of words
I tiptoe an apology in the form of a kiss
And welcome any future pleasures
May they touch upon the innards to expose the trigger
Whereupon lies the much desired explosion.
The elusive wanderer
Multi lingual chameleon constantly told you simply don’t belong
Your love for the road has made you a ghost
Yet your warmth soothes even the coldest hearts
Rendering icicles of these dated tears
Set to crack crumble and tear down these walls
With the comfort of your company.
You
The angel I met at a local bar
My outfit a myriad of hues and fabrics
Complete with straw hat, clearly
I wasn’t expecting the shadow of your gaze
To illuminate my foggy and often
Invisible self confidance
The intimacy’s intensity remains alarming.
Me
I like being called Baby and
I don’t mind the heat your palms provide my thighs
Fingertips as ten strong shovels sifting away the dry soil
Tongues sweeping away the flavors
Of my unsavory past
I thrive on the spontaneity you embrace while smiling
To see my courage inspires your own mid morning trysts.
During this rut one reward is orgasms.
Me
I thank you for not breaking the connections
Our eyes made
Allowing me to prod my defenses up on a flag of words
I tiptoe an apology in the form of a kiss
And welcome any future pleasures
May they touch upon the innards to expose the trigger
Whereupon lies the much desired explosion.
2008/04/14
Fear is EVERYWHERE, so where's the cure?!
In my life there have been many opportunities, and choices. I am in love with love. I meet more and more people and find myself identifying their fears, which so often stem from human relationships.
Less than a year ago, I came very close to giving my heart to a man I felt was worthy only to see that he was too overcome by fear (paralyzed in fact) that he preferred to remain standing in place contemplating his next step. Nearly a year later, and he still feels the need to create spreadsheet after spreadsheet, list after list in the attempt to figure out the answers with regard to his own destiny.
My internal question is how do you figure that out if you dont take chances? how does a musician create a love ballad, inspire tears upon hearing a song without taking chances? How do we cross those (admitedly) intimidating thresholds without not just using our minds but also our hearts?
Then I look around at the people who are "tired" and "sad", and I simply don't understand why they let their fears of change and even of failure debilitate them? I'm 27, and I look and feel the best I have my entire life, but I've learned that one can never predict or control how long that lasts.
I spent an hour on the phone last night with a man who's 50 years old, lamenting that he would have to start a medication I had to take 6 years ago, and I'm telling him 'you're so lucky to have spent your best years in perfect health! " just because here he was consumed by fear of a drug I started taking at 21 for the same disease that changed my life and is now luckily later in life, changing his. But I bounced back, and while my body still heals I know that time is limited, and my will is my best asset. I wont be alone forever, and truthfully I'm not alone now.
Im ready to take chances, and see the world without fear that it may disappoint me. I believe that now is everything; Now is today, is this minute and it's never been keen on waiting for people to get over themselves enough to acknowledge that every second they hesitate, the Now simply moves on without them.But I also know its never too late to figure that out. I just wish that some people would allow themselves to see and feel how Beautiful life is during those moments when you let go of fear, and embrace all the uncertainty. That's living.
I'm so in love with love that it breaks my heart when I see how many people are too afraid to let themselves feel it.
Less than a year ago, I came very close to giving my heart to a man I felt was worthy only to see that he was too overcome by fear (paralyzed in fact) that he preferred to remain standing in place contemplating his next step. Nearly a year later, and he still feels the need to create spreadsheet after spreadsheet, list after list in the attempt to figure out the answers with regard to his own destiny.
My internal question is how do you figure that out if you dont take chances? how does a musician create a love ballad, inspire tears upon hearing a song without taking chances? How do we cross those (admitedly) intimidating thresholds without not just using our minds but also our hearts?
Then I look around at the people who are "tired" and "sad", and I simply don't understand why they let their fears of change and even of failure debilitate them? I'm 27, and I look and feel the best I have my entire life, but I've learned that one can never predict or control how long that lasts.
I spent an hour on the phone last night with a man who's 50 years old, lamenting that he would have to start a medication I had to take 6 years ago, and I'm telling him 'you're so lucky to have spent your best years in perfect health! " just because here he was consumed by fear of a drug I started taking at 21 for the same disease that changed my life and is now luckily later in life, changing his. But I bounced back, and while my body still heals I know that time is limited, and my will is my best asset. I wont be alone forever, and truthfully I'm not alone now.
Im ready to take chances, and see the world without fear that it may disappoint me. I believe that now is everything; Now is today, is this minute and it's never been keen on waiting for people to get over themselves enough to acknowledge that every second they hesitate, the Now simply moves on without them.But I also know its never too late to figure that out. I just wish that some people would allow themselves to see and feel how Beautiful life is during those moments when you let go of fear, and embrace all the uncertainty. That's living.
I'm so in love with love that it breaks my heart when I see how many people are too afraid to let themselves feel it.
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