32 Again

ok, i lied. i like drama. i mean, i must like drama, since i create so much of it.

it's not an emergency. more of a "Spiritual Emergency." my face is not falling off, i am not on fire, i do not have leeches or smell like rot. i am lucky to have a home, but luckier to be able to appreciate it.

the chaos, then, is not a reflection of my mind. what's outside is outside.

then again, what you want to be close, what you would long for, seems so far away sometimes.

distance changes things.


"...you know that we are living in a Lithium-Ion world,
and I am a Lithium girl."

there's no point in hating yourself; chances are someone already hates you creatively and exhaustively enough to balance out the compass.

can you see me?

"i don't wanna marry you"

the big pink balloon that lived inside my chest is now completely deflated.

that is to say, the whoopie cushion that nests below my sternum and between my chest has been farted to its extreme flatness.

i don't like drama, especially in my own life. but it is an emergency that i get out of here. i tried hard, but it looks as though i can't live or thrive here. nobody's fault but mine, i'm told.

to all of his myspace spies: your job is done. don't take an interest in me or my life any longer, please.

to him: it's just a crying, crying shame.

atom
where's that thrump in your heart?

adam, if i ever knew a timeless wellspring of love
it is your beautiful bride as the wedding began

the face of woman-child
stepping down from an ages-old
pyre

that's what i would think was holy. if anyone were to ask.

i've been lucky enough to attend 5 weddings in the past 2 years; greater than i've ever been to in my entire life.

2 were in california. cool, huh?

there are certain things i remember about each one: the cake...the house...the guests besides the ones i already knew...family members in town from different parts of the universe...

anyway, i dunno why i'm thinking about weddings. probably cuz someone close is getting married sooner or later. marriage works for a lot of people. i'm sorry if i ever dissed anyone for doing that whole song & dance. and the last-name? who cares. i am a woman of the people. i embrace people's families joining together. duh.

just don't be surprised if i don't give you anything good; no, couldn't scrape it together to get the Tiffany & Co. soup tureen on the registry. if anything, i will bring a smallish can of bunny turds, and some Toast-Chee crackers while writhing hysterically in a bra-less Mod Squad number.

don't be shocked if i beat my chest indiscriminately at your wedding; especially if it's a classy affair.

i'm a sucker for the whole bar arrangement at most weddings. as i understand it, everyone basically drinks as much as possible, for free. i'm so down. no wonder people crash these affairs! clos du bois!!!

as for drugs, i will be heavily medicated, equipped with a cotton drool-bib, or a reasonable facsimilie. this stuff is the boooomb. did i ever have a personality? will i ever have one again? YOU decide! yes, you. meanwhile, hands off.



i hope the boy i have a crush on reads my blogs.





i don't think i want to meet gandhi...if anything, i'm pretty clumsy.

let me build a bridge

"tierra del fuego"
shifting;
i wonder how
to send the rain
to that land.

i know i'd have to
blow it forward
around the world,
maybe picking up speed
over the ocean
gathering winds

i stumble
over earthquaked land
i would like
to collect their tears
in the gathering winds
to put out the
tierra del fuego

but i can't move
much further than an inch
prison in the middle of the jungle
which children are mine?
"where are my children?"

and do they know it's a holiday
will they know it's xmas-time

are these my bones?
where is my leg?
what happened to my reflection
in the lake
leading to the rivers
of bones
up the coast
to the oceans
leaking down my face
to the tierra del fuego

beyond the tierra del fuego
a band plays sad, romantic songs
crosses a bridge
over a what used to be a river
and is now clay

"where are our mothers?"
"where are our brothers?"
our fathers and children
swallowed in the big volcano
past the fire in the air
where the fire is tucked now
into the land
into gold

rings through my ears
who gave you that gold?
child, who gave you
that gold?

they spoke of cities of gold
on the TV
on the crisp pages
of histories provided

but i've forgotten the metals
that jingle in my pocket
that i've pushed through
cartiledges

instead, the taste of smoke
lives in my head
forever
it's burned!
it's all been burnt to the ground!

napalm and palm trees
cypress, up like roman candles
i would run to swallow the flames
i would dump
pristine snows

i would wring
your tear-soaked garments
in the delta

oh, if i only could.

The Rash

worse than loneliness is being misunderstood, mislead, and lied to. even worse is the feeling that you somehow brought this on yourself.

i am going to be 32 in a matter of weeks, on turkey day. every so often, it falls on that day. i find it intimidating...a mental picture of myself being carved into and served as part of the feast. which further leads me to "Hotel California," where they "stab [me] with their steely knives but they just can't kill the beast." haha. good comic book material. even better; the persecution complex.

anyway, where was i going? i guess that i always knew (but was seldom warned) that my path wouldn't be an easy one. i feel like the girls from my class on facebook that got married earned another last name like a merit badge. granted it's just part of a system which never accepted me anyway. i was afraid of being left out in the cold. i still am. and not because of lack of love...or lack of intelligence....or sensitivity, or any of that. i just wanted...SHELTER.

reminding me of "Stranger Song" by L. Cohen:

"It's true that all the men you knew were dealers
that said they were through with dealing
everytime you gave them shelter..."


so. i look forward to being me some more, making my own decisions, choosing the right path for myself and not having to drag around an ounce of extra weight.

sorry.

life's got its betrayals for all of us. i want to be crystal clear in my intent to be fair, compassionate, and not to betray myself, first of all.

i feel i am one step closer to love. love is a way to live, not a means to perceived merit badge. love is the main ingredient in my punkin' pie. happy thanksgiving.

alcatraz

sorrow brings me nearer
to you

but what about the happy times?
do we not deserve these to share too?

bits of broken glass:
sharp
renegade
explosion
revolution
wedding
accident
release

release.

job

if i could have a job, it would be:

a. an artist. a working artist who gets to be inspired and be with other artists.

b. a writer, see above.

c. something...someone...who helps...somehow. kind of like the relationship i had with tony. when i lived in NJ, without many friends, he brought me treasures from the dumpster, and i listened to him talk all day long about his life, the craziness and coolness and ugliness and...the secrets. he felt safe telling me his secrets for some reason. he would do insane things like eat blackberries from a tree and get carted off to the hospital for bowel distress. he brought me all kinds of xmas things, b/c he loved xmas more than anything. he brought me a painted elephant (he painted it himself) and jewelery and oatmeal and weed. and then i moved back home with my mother in PA, and she wasn't too keen on me talking to some old weirdo on the phone. i finally escaped by train to CA with theo on Election Day...and days later i found out tony died.

so the point is, i want to be someone's friend till the end. well, i sometimes want to be everyone's friend, but i know i can't. i want to believe i can help and heal.

tony was that guy who did maintenance and cleaning at the mall; he was the cleaner at Chuck-E-Cheese...he was a lunatic and a drug dealer and a fearless truck stop worker during the gas crunch in the seventies. he couldn't read but taught me how to see things without words better than any professor. he did hazardous jobs before OSHA was on the scene.

he saw me when i was crazy. several people did. but he never judged me.

so...should i head for the nearest nunnery?

dead people don't write blogs

i guess i'm finally ready to post a blog, something from my own head.

i bought a necklace today (ty uncle dave & aunt j.). it's a real scorpion in glass. i felt pretty badass wearing it. i would totally wear it to a wedding. teeheee! no, seriously. it's that dramatic. little black/navy dress material.

exhausted. did some halloweening at local bar, some sexy chick costumes. i got a glow-in-the dark bracelet from wal-mart for a dollar. it was like the "children's miracle network" or some shit.

how long?
o how long till i leave the planet
on a pinkish rocketship
to the stars?



i can hear you
when i breathe
i can hear you
when i cbreathe

breathe,
whom do you hear?


maybe it's your ma
maybe it's the tv
maybe just the wonderful wind
sailing thru your lungs!

maybe you've made yourself ill
when you need strength


(i will breathe for you)