and now

When the pot gets too still, I stir it up,
stir it up.
For no other reason
I stir it up, stir it up

Will I wait till the ground is rubble
To turn around and leave
Until it is a wasteland?
All upturned, all death. Will
I wait till all is dead to be fully satisfied?

How far will I go to satisfy cravings
How evil, how justifiable, for how
Long will I hurt without seeing,
Hardly caring

This voice has no claim to any moral triumph,
No charcoal painting
Woman-art to make this
Beautiful or empowering. I’m not
The good guy. I will not inspire others
With my strength

 

a few years ago

There you are
I see now
How faraway we were from each other
How I would’ve never been able to reach you
From where I stood

 I would contact you
Just to say I’ll always hold you in my heart and hope good things for you
But you’ll probably interpret it the wrong way
Want to protect me
Feel guilty

But then any contact would carry with it
Some desire for some
Response

And perhaps any desire sent your way
Would require some care on your part
And maybe you know better
Than to touch the fragile, sacred rose

 I used to get angry that you didn’t see me
But I recognize now we were never looking the same way
Moving in the same way
Or to the same places

 My self
Would not push you along
Only distract – your self
Would not know where to push me either

But I want you to know
Your being is a challenge to mine
You will always represent “more”
Not a fit, not a hope
Just a beacon I hope all the best for
Purely,
And from a distance
Where desire cannot cloud
Or where love cannot be confused with
In love or possession

I don’t feel want from a distance
But I will always
Appreciate
And wish good wishes for
A deeply felt, creative soul
Tortured, urgent

 I will always hold you in my heart, [anonymous].

Not because we ever made sense
Not because we ever truly
Understood each other

 But because I got to see you
And feel beyond myself
Feel the ground loosen beneath me
Forced to contain a soul that wanted
To fly out of my chest
Forced to hold myself
Not rebuild myself,
But simply let time run its course
The seasons change
Recovery

a saying nothing

Skyline I couldn’t
have dreamed up myself –

what was it I dreamt about last night?

Still looking for a home,
can’t get it out of my head.

Honest?
Writing too
quickly. Wait for it. She
wrote about birthing suns. Counting
grains of sand. I write about
some endless
search. If I made writing my
arrival, would it change
the person I am?

Finding the best relations.

Playful.
Dotted – constellation
Connect the dots,
trusting the dots connect.

Releasing daily,
act of releasing
Allowing.

I like to write
about the things I
love about people –
the short legs.
Cross eyes.

I want form,
Format, do i?

Creeping lines, a
Blazing through the
Eye, a frazzled,
Frizzled hair. A
Trying to
Say.
An unsaying.
A saying nothing.

voices loudly in my head

i haven’t been writing so i haven’t
been able to become concise,
still,
i’ve been missing the thin line of meaning.
i haven’t been writing so i
sleep with voices loudly in
my head and wake up
with voices loudly in
my head. I
experience and am filled with
feelings and thoughts
bouncing to and fro -
but i’ve only hit the
surface and can’t
deeply know what’s what.
i try to avoid this model
of creating the frame
before the experience
aiming only to step
into it, fill it,
clothe it.
i get anxious,
wanting,
expecting, frame intact,
drilled deep.
i want to step outside
my voice
for a moment.
is this simply a struggle of
paradigm to paradigm and
relations between the two?
or can this be a new becoming,
a sliding between
cracks?

“answers”

i thought i had answers on saturday
my answers were different by saturday night
and completely lost by sunday
i woudn’t change this,
but what feelings
should i have about the temporary nature of
answers?
tradition
would be nice if i
believed in fantasy less.
passion
would be nice if i believed in fantasy
more
everything has “exploded into
fragments” and i’m left
checking my left from my right -
is there such thing as a waste of time
relationship… what if i’m “learning?”
i do want to end
somewhere.
a real place.
but i’ve always believed in
tangents!
today is saturday again,
maybe those answers were right?