February 2012
16 posts
i fell in love with a little ghost and that was...
I am caught up in the romance of romance.
My magenta hair, dark pink, Eckhart Tolle speaking on a YouTube video with Google staff, and you on my mind.
I want to crawl inside you. Rest there and listen to you.
You are like and apparition.
oh but because of myyyyy condition …
That's a relief.
Dim lights
a candle
the whole space is changed
calmer
more open
somehow
right here
liking it
and
the guitar treats me to a small jam,
rusty,
but a gentle
clay pigeons
played twice
sweet
relaxed chords.
Singing lightly.
Let me say nothing esoteric
nothing beyond the heat of the keyboard
under the heels of my hands
the tip of my tongue resting between my teeth
lips closed
...
In fact, I do not even have to say.
I see that he is, also, in fact, part of this me, to which I can turn and say, ‘I know what the truth is.’ In fact, I do not even have to say.
P to the M to the muthufuckin S.
Even to be away from you,
in all stillness,
is to be with you. Completely.
I am nothing but you
the fire of your madness
burning and seething in my veins.
Yes, you. I hate to say it, but it must be you, too.
The terror of a rat
or some story attached to it;
and you, brewing beer while the rats run wild in here. Brewing beer on my back porch, you prick.
You’re all pricks.
Only, I...
Valentine's Eve
THANK YOU
for being my non-traditional and perfect boyfriend
the spark that ignites my art and my poems
the eye looking at me out from under ginger fringe
the receiver of my romantic channel
as I am the receiver of that which comes from you
romantic
fulfilling
dancing
and gone again
and always here.
I am so very grateful and love that you are in my life.
I might have to add something...
I feel he will be glad to share it.
I know the goodness of life
but
when it comes down to it
even conversations and words about it
don’t stick around,
leaving no trace
~
I ripped that last part off from Scott
but
I feel
he will be glad
to share it.
Groundwire
I live for the doodle,
my boyfriend
a sunny day like today.
I bless the heaviness in the body,
and I thank it and the lap of
life that has me lie in it.
The body is my own groundwire ~
Heaviness for the sake of awakening,
like a nursery,
so cared for.
Refrigerator filled with food.
Type Z
I mighta been Type A. My dad is, for sure, and he raised me. The remnants are the parts of my personality - that I will not deny - that want things just how I want them and that’s just how it is. But as far as getting things done, being on task, organized, focused in that way …
… I realized today, I am no longer (if I ever was) Type A. I am now Type Z.
It fits perfectly with...
And I love how my pajamas smell like his lotion or hair jell or cologne or whatever the heck it is. Smells like watermelon Jolly Ranchers. And, just like that, a poem is born.
if there's chewed up apple in there
I might always love him,
wistfully writing about watching him eat an apple
those teeth, the lips, thin and so familiar
and wondering,
do you even like apples? And may I please share one with you?
May I try to kiss you while you’re chewing, probably talking too,
a little bit of white apple juice and me just wanting
to crush my mouth on yours? —
I don’t care if...
Lifted from my secret blog
My sweet angel
I miss you
and still I feel so sweet
not empty without you, except
that place where you and only you fill me
and he says
you cannot share your waking state with anyone in this unique way in which it is experienced inside this body; and yet, beyond this, you meet.
you do not say these words to me, but every single word you say to me is awake
alive
me
and you
it is us
...
In order to stop trying, I have to be willing to ride out the fear without acting out of an attempt to soothe it. Patience. Wait. Keep quiet. You are safe. Safer than safe.