fast hands

blind
boxed
I don’t know what’s more insulting
him using his charm to get what he wants
or him thinking I can’t see through it

one hand in my pocket
the other one on the table

true kind hearts
seem to last forever

i like it better when you come around

sometimes all we need is a reason to keep trying

will it be enough?

i was just thinking about how i could be dee dee ramone for halloween but i would want an old beaten up leather jacket and i don't own one.

i was just thinking about bon jovi, halfway there, living on prayers...

i have no idea where there is.

new
life
switch
hope is in there somewhere too

and green,
always green.

the crocus

i like

white chocolate

nuts

watermelon

toast

sleep







(sometimes you have to borrow a picture from the interwebnet. thank you.)

flutterboard

feels like
drowning
swirling
undertow
but with a view
head above water
ride this wave
crashing
back to my sanity

you never know how the puzzle is going to fit together
light
flashes

i don't enjoy swimming
but i can

breakfast only
on days when i'm still
awake,
not woken
from my dreams

lost in my head

this is where the whales were supposed to be

edification

dreams and songs and answered prayers
i got my little brother back today

all in a week's work

I am calling out to the universe
for a ban on crisis,
a moratorium on having those close to me falling apart.

This is why people turn to religion -
it’s a lot of work,
to hold up the whole world
with only two hands.

And no, I don’t really want to talk about it,
unless you have
some magic beans.


P.S. This IS me being an optimist.

lucky charms

pennies from heaven
kronur from iceland

facts, not wishes
it’s never too late to start making things right

figment of my imagination

rainy night
orange leaves crowd
the shiny black street

why does that have to sound sad?
i think it's pretty

lamplight

the things i don't talk about,
those are the ones that really matter.

post script

i end up alone and crazy.
apparently that's the deal.

chicken

"I know that it's bad,
That it's the kind that they can't operate on."
- MG

lucid
vs.
forgetting -
trauma
makes forgetting,
or do we feign forgetting
to avoid the pain of loss?

flashes:
bikinis
sailors
ladies
old cars
tobacco farms
depressions
dreams
memories

forgotten, pushed down, lost

stories of when the titanic went down
dance halls
cruise ships
hurricanes
wedding crashers
gangsters
home made brandy

my mom was a groupie
my baba was the local distillery
and here i've been blaming the men all this time
reclaimed
proud
explained
secret delight

thin pale skin

i forgot
if something seems too good to be true,
that's because it usually is

unicorns don't fall from heaven
they sleep on the tops of mountains
far too high to climb

you can call me fool

a thousand times

that is all

musings after the smell of damp earth

tonight i made a point of walking past the graveyard
there's something about the energy that soothes me,
the collective calm of souls gathered at rest,
those who no longer have to deal with the bullshit of being in the presence of other humans
power as purity
no ambition, manipulation, fear
the birds like it too

is it sexy when a cute bus driver goes really fast?

it is important to have friends who love you.
thank you friends.
times like these it sure becomes clear who you are.

forty-two

dusk, light, yellow leaves
that funny illuminated space in between
bright green imprints
not enough

head, down

- no.
- never, now, never/now, later.
- i wish. black.
- probably. very likely.
- once is funny, often is pathetic.

things that make me angry make me even more angry because they're a waste of my fucking time.

sad smile

there is a hole in my gut now
to match the hole in my heart
and the one in my head

there is seeing and wanting but being too crazy
there is seeing and wanting but being too afraid
there is seeing and wanting but being too stuck

there is seeing and not wanting,
then creeping into wanting but being too stuck
and maybe too afraid

there is wanting but never seeing,
then creeping into seeing and being
too stuck in afraid and wanting

and then there is seeing
and wanting and never understanding.
that one is me

ginko leaf

another apocalypse kind of day by my house
leaves flying, littering the sky
a dark and stormy lunchtime
kansas worthy

voting gets me all choked up, embarrassing but true

it's something about seeing old people who can barely walk
being helped down the street, out of cars, up the stairs
because they think it matters...

and it's something about being reminded how fate had me narrowly escape being born in a land where engaging in political thought got you shipped off to the zone

and so, in this democracy,
crazies are out trying to sell baseball cards to the neighbourhood crackheads,
rich liberals plant flowers to match the campaign signs on their lawns,
and on the eve of this full moon
i can choose not to even joke about how long it takes before the axe falls that leaves me jobless

there's just no point in being terrified anymore

and at least i’ve already got disappointment down to a fucking art
(funded entirely, of course, by my own dime)

maybe now is a good time
to start thinking
about exactly which kind of farmer it is that i’m going to want to be

leftovers

I have two arms
I have two legs
I only need my glasses to see far away
I have my health, and I'm basically sane.
Yeah, there has been some shit too,
but there are plenty of people who are way worse off than I am.
I'll give thanks for the luxurious nature of my current worries:
- can I cut that 245 pages down by the end of this week?
- when will he write back?
- should I get a cat again?
- aren't there more important things I should be doing right now?
- how lame am I, sitting on my ass waiting for bliss to come knocking?
(I was going to say nirvana, but then you might think I was referring to the secret dream I have that it’s me kurt is waiting for up there in heaven...or wherever...)

do unicorns cry?

just wondering...

it's cold in here tonight
no sleep...
while wishing that hibernation was an option
(but with a paycheque)

apples falling from trees

fall is pretty this year

what else?

orange tea, brussels sprouts, almonds,
the office
a house and family more mine than mine
I as him

walking,
home,
alone

train to nowhere

i forgot you in my math
four hours
four pillows
i curled up in the nice brown blanket
and tried to write
i wanted to tell you the sunrise was lovely
but i never even saw it

one hundred years

that's how old i turned yesterday

now it is twelve hours
and twenty years
minus one and a bit
plus yesterday, and then
give or take eighteen or so

i've always had a head for numbers
just never quite the exciting philosophical kind
but i know that in the end it all equals zero.

i knew there was more

i love the smells of tar and gasoline.

i hate that gross old men think it's okay to blatantly check you out while you're waiting for the bus just because they're behind the wheel of a jaguar. not that i have anything against jaguars, mind you.

in the spirit of the holiday, i'll be generous - maybe he was simply coveting my beautiful scarf, flapping in the wind as it was, just so.

the end.

stars

i kinda miss being sick...i had some crazy ass dreams yesterday

i wish i spoke cat

the past 36 hours have been some of the strangest of my life.

on another note, there's a cat i always see in the alley behind my house, who thinks my door is the door of his home. he's really skittish, but if i crouch down and stretch out the palm of my hand he'll come and talk to me. i suspect he wanders off the balcony from the apartment above and then has no way to get back up. i want to let him into the main hallway of the building at least, but i'm not sure he actually lives here, and in the end i think trapped inside would be much worse than locked out.

i think i'll nickname him tiger.

airport hotel

spades and balls and bicycles and brick walls

oh well, whatever, nevermind...

(i liked that guy and i hope he comes back)

disappeared

sometimes when you try to save yourself,
you end up saving someone else in the process
sometimes they surprise you and say thanks
sometimes they never know it was you

back to my tea and teddy bear shaped graham cookies...

just like running, the last hundred is when you've got to push the hardest

one day me and you are going to france

waiting for the streetcar that never comes,
you know the one...
kind of charming bar band across the way
sid vicious sings elvis
thoughts of paris then alarms and darkness
so much perfume on friday nights
all night i forget to breathe
then it's you again
the world turns pale but bright
and i smile inside at your return

dancing and singing by myself

perhaps for this evening a list of my dirty little secret (as in, no irony here) favorite songs of all time...i'm sure there are more, but these are the ones that popped into my head tonight.

on my own from les miserables

the gambler by kenny rogers

what a feeling (the flashdance theme) - irene cara, tied with maniac from the same movie

day by day from godspell

honourable mention to samba lèlè as sung by raffi (i’m technically too old for it now)

hugs

i wish my hair would always look the way it does a few weeks into the haircut
drummers have strong arms
shadows have strong wills
six months at sea
versus a decade lost mirrors me...
chickens and eggs, oh my
music doesn't lie,
it's life that does.
not quite right,
but i'll try to sleep anyway.

baby blue

i will keep it up for you

me, i want a bunny, too.