Birth

Rocking with the rhythm of my Learning

Rocking in the cradle of my Self

in the velvet womb of my om

I am loving this birth of my Self

Trouble

Whole wide world outside my door
Trouble's sweet stink thick in the misty air

My old vices and new vices too
Itching my feet
Curling my hair

What if I do?
What if I don't?

Ain't no dare I ain't chased,
But I'm tryin' so hard to be still

Every corner
Every step
Every sway of my hips and lick of my lips
Sends a dangerous vibe through the air

Can't find a place to go where it won't follow me home

I, Amie

I am not the sum of all the parts of me you see.
I, Amie.
Recycled Om to fuel tentative steps into a world unseen.
Therapeutic mistakes to invigorate an obstinate grasp on my dreams.
La ti da ti da ti di
I am me. I am me. I am me.

I am not responsible for living up to what you've heard about me.
I, Amie.
Ignorant of sensationalized half-truths, myths and lies.
Empowered by the lure of a future as eccentric as me.
La ti da ti da ti di
I am me. I am me. I am me.

Smoke

hittin' like a heavyweight
driftin' like a feather
smoke follows beauty
no matter the weather

love of destruction
passion for reprieve
smoke follows beauty
no matter your belief

Spent

Trying to think
through this mountain of sleep
and deep uncharted fear
of the known
is like trying to remember a dream once it's gone.

Racing

Racing like I'm running
from
or to
you

Hands are sweaty
Heart is fast
I'm racing like I'm running

Never with you
Always from or to you

With you, time stands still

But, getting there is always like jumping on a spinning merry-go-round

And once I'm on, the edge of the thing makes me dizzy

So.

I get in the center. Where it's still. And, I stay.

As long as I can. Til the ride reverses. Once again.

Bad Case of You

Ditzy Daisies
Midday Lazies
I've got a bad case of you

Sunny Shinebeams
Ice Cream Daydreams
I've got a bad case of you

Fall

Fall, Fall
Autumn is Fall.
If I can't have that,
I won't have it all.

Carbon Nation

Carbon dated

Carbon nation

Pop culture pops

Before it can fizz

So bright and shiny

Bland and flat

Shelf life of the collective attention span:

About a second or two

"Inner Traditions"

Following footprints of my future self
I love my "inner traditions"
No path before me but the glow of my yearning
I'm learning to grow into me
Craving the burn and the pull of the New
I'm glowing the right shade of White

Diluted Zen

Lost a button
Split my jeans
Ain't superstitious
Don't care what it means

Rock me like it
I'm your Baby
Rock me like it
I'm your Tramp

All we are
Is all we is
That's all I'll say
About that

Underrated

Simply stated, you underrated me.

Delicious pawn, you thought you man enough to snare me.

House of mirrors to entertain me,

But I just look like this.

My doll face is my smoky disguise.

I rob the rich to feed the poor.

I just look like this.

You knew your way through your mirrored maze,

But smoke and mirrors are my favorite game.

If you want back on top, man, you'd better

Readjust your aim.

I'm robbing you now to feed me more.

You'd better ask somebody.

Now, who's zooming who?

You think me a dime,

and maybe one time that's all that I was,

But honeychild's feeding the Lord of the Flies,

And wouldn't think twice about dropping you.

I'm robbing him now to feed you more.

Simply stated, you underrated me.

I just look like this.

Kitty Cat Song

Sittin' outside
Kitty cat
Sittin' outside
Kitty cat
Sittin' outside
Kitty cat
Don't feed her
She'll follow you home

Kitty cat
Likes the warm cream
Kitty cat
Likes the warm cream
Kitty cat
Likes the warm cream
Don't pet her
She'll never go on on

Friday

Maybe I'll take a nap now

Maybe I'll get drunk and dance now,

Or maybe I'll get drunk and write

Maybe I'll do some yoga,

And have a little green tea

Maybe those clouds will rain now

Maybe the sky will cry

Maybe that's not thunder at all

Maybe I was born just to die

Mourning

Biting cold between my teeth
Searing heat behind my eyes
This missing you has me
Perplexed.

Confounded
by strawberries' sweetness
and the moon's pale meekness.
I can't taste luxury
Until I exhale.

Dark smoky haze
Instead of a blaze
When I watch for a face that I know.

Vodka or brandy or
Rootbeer or candy
I'm empty as soon as I'm full.

The end.

Glass

Glass on glass:
This world is not my own.
Through smoky nights of jazz and raindrops,
I've tried to squeeze me in between
This glass on glass
World that's not my own.

Paned immobile:
This globe is all I own.
Pale white wings as smooth as skin,
This ashen halo binds my feet
Of glass on glass.
This globe is all I own.

Glimpse of Peace

Sittin' still through every heartache.
Sittin' still through every piece
Of grief and every bit of
Every tiny shred of every little peace

I can find on this
Island of Sad and Far Away Time.

Writhing like a serpent.
Piercing like a knife.
Rolling through me like the
Black of all the darkest nights.

But every tiny moment
Of the briefest glimpse of peace
Takes me through the rough spots --
Gives me hope I'll be redeemed.

Tea Time

I am time and time is me,
And broken both are we.

We are

Splintered like the china pattern
Shattered at my feet.
My days are lonely fragments
Of the life I used to keep.

Tinker bells and fairy tales once
Danced through every hall,
But now it's time for tea for one.
I'm climbing every wall

Of this cage, cage, cage.
I'm stuck in this age
Of tea for one, and tea for one
Ain't sweet at all,
So time will never be for tea.

Nowhere

Woke up this morning with the whole wide world at my feet.

Woke up this morning with the whole wide world at my feet.

Trouble is my feet forgot their step.

Trouble is my feet forgot their step.

Think I'll tag along with the nowhere man and his nowhere clan

'cause these pretty toes forgot where they goes.

Guess I'm part of this nowhere man and his nowhere clan

'cause this gypsy rose forgot where she began.

I think I smelled the sun, but I forgot today to breathe.

I think I tasted breeze, but I forgot today to eat.

Been sleep walking with the nowhere man and his nowhere clan, and

Today I forgot to be.

Dreamt of You

Dreamt of you last night.

I know 'cause I stayed up cryin'.

Dreamt of you last night.

I know 'cause I woke up smilin'.

How'd this lullabye get so far

Away from home and all I know?

How'd this dark sky sleep-a-bye

Wander off without me?

Run, Run, Run

Around the block and back.

Zoom, Zoom, Zoom

To every moon and back.

Wander off without me

Up all night a cryin',

But then I'll fall, and then I'll dream,

and always dream about you.

REevaluating

Maybe this watchin-tha-grass-grow

Watchin-tha-kids-play

Rockin-on-tha-back-porch

Life

Ain't for me

Always a princess.

Always a pea.

Queen of the willed,

Waiting for tea.

Staying Fast

Waiting on my nowhere land of bliss

To find and pull me once again

Suck me under

Choke my breath

You can't be too far

Mama's too afraid to fly

Not without those nowhere wings

Not without those sky shoes

Mama's not flying - just idling on this

Island of real

Come on back here, nowhere wings

Mama's sittin' still

Come on back here, sky shoes

Mama's staying fast

Gonna sit here and wait

For all the world to pass

Home can't be too far

Day is fading fast

Home can't be too far

Mama's staying fast

Way, Way Down

Walking down

This shuffle-trip-a-walk way

Way

Way

Down

And out

Of nowhere

Skin my knee

High is the grass

From way

Way

Way

Down and out

Or in and about

A million miles

From here

Or there

Or anywhere

Oh where

Oh where

Has my little world gone

Oh where

Oh where

Could I be

Fade

I don't hurt no more.

Don't hurt no more.

New age gotta fade

I ne'er wanted to find,

But I don't hurt no more.

Stones fly and wings bleed,

But I got this fade

I ne'er tried to find,

And I don't hurt no more.

Shasta & Tomatoes

Thanks to some lingering storm clouds brought on by Hurricane Dolly, I'm sitting on my stoop watching a sky that gives me a false sense of Autumn. Boy, am I ready!

My next door neighbor, Chuck, looks a bit like an old friend of mine. I trust him for that and a couple of other odd reasons only I could justify: tomatoes and Shasta.

Shasta is a blue heeler I watched Chuck spend a HOT Saturday building a fence for. She has four cute little fat, furry puppies. Chuck said she got out one night and came back knocked up. The puppies are big enough now to come out in her little yard and roll around with each other. I like watching her nurse her puppies from up here. I don't get close because of my allergies.

Which brings me around to another allergy I have. Tomato plants. Somehow, Chuck's small menagerie of plants on his stoop make me trust him.

Tomato plants and Shasta.

Whatever.

I'm listening to country music (!!!) and sitting quite unladylike on my front stoop waiting for my cajun shrimp cup-o-ramen to cool while I take a break from applying for jobs online.

Boy, I'm looking forward to Autumn!

Across the Way

Purple thirst

Grape smoke

Summer night

upon night

upon night

Gray beard

Brown skin

Summer night

upon night

upon night

Across the way

Another one

Pale moon glow

Who's she writin'?

Summer night

upon night

upon night

Breeze rustles leaves

and curls

and her gown

Her thighs are as white as her breasts

Across the way

Who's she writin'?

Watchin' that tree

like she waits for her lover,

but it's just she

and me

across the way

Summer night

upon night

upon night

Dark Like You

Looking for you now

Sun's dippin' low

Been hidin' all day

But night's comin' on

Leavin' both you'n me in the Dark

Dark Dark shadow

Dark Dark light

Moon or no moon

Night's still night

Looking for you now

Ain't no sun to squint

Been hidin' all day

Lil fires smokin'

All around this skyroom

Dark Dark shadow

Dark Dark light

Moon or no moon

I'll be up all night

I'm smilin'

I'm fakin'

Just a fiend like you

Moon or no moon

Just an addict like you

Blew See Blue

Blue Sea Ache

purple light
red light
blue
sea blue

purple light
red light
blue
sea blue

black tree
white tree
blew see blew

cold, cold sun gonna blow
til you ache

purple light
red light
blue
ache blue

hum it through your teeth
sing through all your disbelief

cold, cold earth gonna burn
til you ache

To Doc James, 07-24-08 of New Orleans and Such

July 24, 2008
Thursday
83 degrees at 10:00 a.m.
projected high of 100+

Good morning, Doc James:

I’m watching Samantha Brown on the Travel Channel. She’s in New Orleans right now. I love watching her. She’s so perky and unselfconscious. Also, she loves to eat!

One of the first things she did was get a big sandwich called a … um, well … actually, I can’t remember what it’s called. It looked amazing though. You basically order a whole sandwich or a half. The whole sandwich was about twelve bucks and as big as a plate. I think you and I could have ordered a half and then halved that and shared it between us.

Now, she’s having her palm read by a lady who claims she will have twins. Twins, twins, twins. I think I should send the twins picture to Doublemint. It’s about time we have some black Doublemint twins. Don’t you think? They would be so cute!

So, New Orleans has tons of music and food. It seems that’s all she’s doing on her trip. How great is that! Even when Samantha took time out to help build a home, musicians stopped by from time to time to play for the builders. There was so much love emanating from the crowd: “a great sense of camaraderie,” to put it as Samantha did. Music, music, music! It was everywhere!

If I remember correctly, there was only one segment that music was not a part of. She went on a tour of a swamp. It was so awesome looking. The tour guide literally stopped the tour with a “bayou brake,” which meant he reached over his head and held onto a branch until their boat stopped. He then lured an alligator over to the boat so Samantha could get a good look. He was so respectful of the swamp and the life in and around it. He seemed a part of it all.

Doc, I miss my best friend. I really do. I know I’m not supposed to be, but my whole self is sad. I so thoroughly loved him from the moment I heard him and I don’t know how to make that go away. People think we had a bad relationship, but it was the happiest time I’ve ever had. He fought when forces were pulling us apart and so did I. We both fought the only way we knew how, but society saw things in black and white. …sigh…

I need you, Doc. Put something else in my head. Give me something else to fill my head with.

This void is fucking me up.

OnePeace, OneLove, Amie

Big Fat SIGH

Dear Doc James:

Could not print out the letter I wrote to you last night, and that puts a weakness in me in the spot where I'm craving your strength.

this is the spot where i drew little doodles of the music i was listening to while i tried to cheer myself.

Bob Dylan
"...you gotta serve somebody..."

Pure Prairie League
"...won't you look at me and tell me, amie, what you wanna do..."

Spin Doctors
"...been a whole lot easier since tha bitch left town...i take that back i hope you're doin' fine...lil miss, lil miss, lil miss...can't be wrong..."

and then, some Kentucky Headhunters
"...too much purdy on 'er little white face..."
"...little rock and roll angel gotta style that's the talk of the town...causes traffic jams and stares in every crowd...just one look ain't enough..."

I wrote to you of things like lions and found and clipped ivies.

I wrote three pages and they all had nice pictures.

Now, without money for ink, I cannot print your letter and you shall not read my words.

BIG...FAT...SIGH

OnePeace, OneLove, Amie

here's another really sad part that didn't make it into the letter. i could not find stamps. (alas, forsooth, oh no!) fortunately, the temperature dropped below 100 after 8:00 p.m. so i walked to the grocery store for stamps. whew!

To Doc James 07-22-08

Tuesday
July 22, 2008
104 degrees - ugh!

Good evening, Doc James:

Thank you so much for writing me.

You know me well.

I get so excited when mail arrives for me.

Usually, the excitement lasts all day; however, I wake the next day needing more (as with any addiction), so please continue to think of me long enough to put a few words on paper from time to time.

I was so proud to read that you have joined 2008 with full force and opened a bank account. Direct Deposit even? Wow! I hope it is yours entirely and that you are not beholden to anyone else. Ties bind and freebirds hate being bound. When the freebird flies, he cuts his binds and alas, so many, many tears are cried. You know, that makes me think of another saying: the one about burning bridges. Don’t you think less bridges would be burned if less were built? Also, it is said that no man is an island. Do you agree, Doc James? I sometimes believe that every man is an island and we’re so scared of floating away that we attempt to connect with other islands when a simple smile and nod would do just fine.

Not because I’m a big, brave island. Oh no. Not at all. I’m a woman. I’m a child. I’m a citified country girl. That’s all there is to it Doc. I’m a pet. I’m no stepper. I’m fragile and broken and licking my wounds.

I’m watching Animal Planet right now. Lions. Wildebeests. Serengeti shit. It’s beautiful. Wild and raw.

But, that’s nature, Doc.

We ain’t natural no more, are we? “We’ve evolved,” white man proudly boasts. No more leather skin. No more claws. We’ve Oil of Olayed every callous away and manicured our dirt-diggers to smooth pretty shapes and shellacked them pink or red or French, and we expect each other to do the same. No hair out of place. No smells that remind us we’re human. We moan only when we fake it for an audience of one or a million. We tuck in our ass to walk down the streets so we don’t distract our neighbors’ husbands, and try to keep the sway of our natural rhythm hidden under our khaki skirt.

But, that’s society, Doc.

Me and you listen with one ear to that shit. Don’t we, Doc.

You see that watermark behind the words on page one? Those are some Doc James cigars. I thought it was a pretty picture. I got it from the Internet. I’ve never really had one. I’m still a Black and Mild girl when I write. Cream tonight. I still make one last all night. You know when I get that tip in my mouth that my writer’s block dissipates and all of a sudden I need all ten of my fingers at my disposal.

So.

Ask me what I want.

Wait. I’ll ask you first.

Whatcha want, Doc? You’ll say money. You might switch it up just to throw me off or to sound romantic or something, but I know your answer would be “a million dollars.” Ha! Take it. It’s yours. All you’ll do is start getting rid of it as soon as you get it! Tell me I’m wrong. Ha!

Now.

Ask me.

Amie, what do you want?

You know what I want, Doc? I wanna be nervous! I want to never be able to say, “I’ve arrived.” I want to always be an ING. BecomING. ProgressING. LivING. Save the past tense for when I really am past tense. Let my sons tell my “used to be” stories.

I clipped some ivy this evening. The way you showed me to. I hope it takes root. I have it in a jar of water in my way-too-hot kitchen. Actually, though, I’m pretty sure it’s the wrong kind of ivy. I’m keeping my eye out, though, for the right kind. I’m gonna develop a green thumb. You’ll see.
Please write me. Don’t let my spirits droop too low before you excite me again. I tell you what, Doc James. I’m gonna ask you to marry me one of these days. You merry me so that I just might seduce you into marrying me. (I hope I got a laugh out of you.)

May the best of all that’s bright and beautiful encourage you today and may every blessing meant for you find its way home.

Peace.
Love.
Honeychild.

444

It's that time of time

where Amie goes

down Highway 61 with Bob Dylan

and every pie in the sky high of every lie in the willed

makes 'er itch.

Itch to roam.

Itch to run.

Itch to chase

Amie.

She's a wild one,

and ain't nothin' held 'er down yet.

Nothin' at all.

She's a wild one,

and ain't nothin' held 'er down yet.

Nothin' at all.

When you're born

with running legs,

your legs are running legs.

She's a wild one,

and ain't nothin' held 'er down yet.

Sanctified

I have given up & out & over.
every
thing
I could steal
away
just to taste the flavor of us,

but . . .

Something smoother gurgles
purer in this pain-free
vacuum of one-sided wander.
Wonder while I lust and
chase you.

Something
cleaner
surer
whiter
blacker

Not us

anymore,

but

Me.

. . .

and Me tastes oh, so good to bad ol' Me.

To My Nest, Bay Bee

cheer yew now for cheering mi

irie cheer yew

one tew three

blessings blessings

one two three

bless you

now

four blessing me

Habitual

so,
i'm still doing that thing ...
i'm still in the habit.

haven't broken it yet.

haven't tried to, really.

still don't know if i'm ready to ...

stop

reaching for your smooth skin across my bed in the mourning when you're not in my bed at all.

that's habit.

i know you're not here. in my head, i mean. my head knows it. i can say it even in my sleep. you're not here.

it's just my hands. and my face. and my cheeks. and my lips. and my toes. my cold feet.

those parts of me.

they forget ...

... they reach for you still.

they forget.

not me, though.
i remember.

it's just a habit. that's all. i'll tackle it ...

... one of these days ...

Drippety Drip Monday Morning Praying

so, i woke this morning.

reluctantly.

drippety dripping going on outside.

i couldn't so much hear it, as i could feel it.

and i was right. correct, anyway.

i was correct.

i tiptoe shuffled into kitchen for a peppermint coffee to give myself something to chastise myself about later ... ah, my eating habits ... tsk, tsk

and there, barely visible through the wide-open view,

drippety
drip
dripping

going on for a while, i presume

ah, gray skies.

my favorite.

alas, tis monday,
forsooth, boss is out on spring break holiday,
oh no, not me.

i'm here.

yay drippety drip monday.
yay office to myself.
yay happy sunshine boys.

every
single
day

spring break

please, god, help me know how to keep happy sunshine smiles on their smooth and freckled faces

please, god, help me know how to keep their happy afros bobbing

please, god, keep us all in that

spot

in that

place

keep us all in our own

om sweet om

ah ... if we could all just look after ourselves, look after our own, look after our Selves,

oh, what a beautiful thing we would bee

photos by Mike Temple.
03/2008
http://www.myspace.com/mctjazz
Thank you, Boss.

Snow through Blossoms - Texas in March

Insomniyacker as Amila

Amie, after 4 hours of Ivy

The Second Night

The Great Tree(house) D-Bait

(gorillaz. clint eastwood.)

and then?

and then,

a treehouse talk. it got very serious for a moment when amie insisted she hated the whole idea and had decided (sublime. what i got.) that she was going to live in a tree.

period.

skip the house altogether ...

much to the chagrin of d.

so she insisted it once more -

Dim the Lights

Reine, Reine

We made it reine, but now, is time to reine some more.

be sure to click on title
peace, love, amie

T is for Tintinabulation

... or, Tintinnabulation - I've seen it both ways, but either way, tin or tinn, thank you Tony for tintinabulating me :)remember that road trip you bee came rich and fAMIEous! What fun! What fun!

M is for Missive

when Missive is meant,
and now I know what it means!

it's either a noun or an adjective

so,
it's a message,
or,
it's sent or about to bee sent

bzzzz ... thank yew, Mz Vee!

Patio Door Thank Yew

Yesterday, Tony wrote:

This is Living.

Rich,
Rich,

Rich are the few
who live
in this garden

Thank you
for sharing your time with me
and letting me sneak a peek
at the beauty
y'all call
family

This is Art.

Stranger than Fiction

Truth or me?

How much of me do you need

...before you Know it's me?

Santa Fe box car on cinder blocks

at one-fifteen, this was what you snatched and sent me
I am delighted to hang onto it for you, friend.

Here's why:

I have the biggest hunch i'm about to experience the best road trip... Maybe ever for me... Thanks for staying and keeping me connected.... Eighty degrees ... Beautiful and Vibrant ... Pearl jam on the player... Wind in hair and everything is shiny and beautiful

well, do me a favor - if you pick up any hitchhikers, please have them fill out a card so when I meet friends of their friends they can say, "[gasp!] You're THAT Amie!"

Oh... Thats awesome... I forgot... Goose bumps.... Lol... You rock ... so, you want me to pick up a hitchhiker today - that's new!

no, i just said ... :)IF(:

I may now... Thanks for the idea... :-) man, this is DQ country...

... milk and honey ... why tha fuck not?

The Temple

Once upon a time, a girl who looked a lot like me and smelled like me too had to run, run, run -

run away

from all she had built and all she had fashioned for her Self and the Selves of the others for whom she built

When she got tired, she paused

at the Temple

and the Temple paused with her

and one day,

Once upon a time that feels nothing like now, the Temple gave her a chocolate tree and whispered sweet lullabye nothings in her brand new ears

... yesss ... let it go, sweet child ... let it go and it will fly ...

let it fly - let it fly - you don't even have to say goodbye

Now lie here sweet child and let the faeries fly out of your chocolate tree and sing to you the songs they wrote when they first could feel your coming

you can hear it, you know

in the songs of the six teas - they could feel you coming

they knew your gypsy soul would need some rockin'

they could hear that little "something like a bird within [you] sing..."

chocolate tree

chocolate tree

let the music sugar tree rock you to wake up with me

your body is your temple

can your temple rock to sleep with me

sugar tree sugar tree

nothing quite as freely free as sugar from her

chocolate tree

amieland

i wish to fly and neverland
i wish to fly
and neverland
and neverland
neverland anywhere
but here

Yes, she has a shadow pic,

BUT

dotdotdot

DOES SHE HAVE AN

A N G E LA LA LA LAAAAH?

i think not!

:)miss.you(:

So, here's what an insideout is

so, here’s what

i’m sitting here trying to get sleepy because i am out of tylenol pm and my arthritis feels like acid and i can visualize me all black and disappeared and my body one of those red and orange neon shaped line drawings of my wickedly pulsating with mind-searing pain back – bah bomp bah bomp bah bomp – you know? doan’s. isn’t it?

bah bomp – bah bomp – bah bomp

each

bomp – bah bomp bomp

...thUMP

of your heart falls into step with the kathUNKthunk throbbing painful cartoon back so you’ll buy their pain pills before you go home and try to

kaTHOMPTHOMP

breathe.

Your dad told you it wasn't what you thought

because the hook brings you back
don’t gotta say shit, just say it with
inflection
yes?
so...
what would that piece of fluff
bee in the ear
of the king
see, friend, see, tejas, see amie,
my theory of of is that of is some
pretty heavy shit
but that don’t
matter
tall
when its said in a way that makes it
eventually remembered and re –
heard
everywhere
alloveryou

bees!

Bees! ... Mom, quick, Tony’s covered in bees!

Shit, Devor,’ putchyer damn shirt back on, crazy ol’ woman!

Gonna make him spend that ol’ Johnson girl’s fortune on THERAPY! Damnfool memories like that – seein’s mama running damnfoolnakedjaybird CRAZY – screamin’ like a banshee – slapping ‘er sonna roun’ LIKE AN ANIMAL!

and, you know what amie says about illusion:

no matter what you think it is,

it isn’t.

what lovely energy

...

dotdotdot

i like to say that sometimes

it makes me pause

i like to pause - don't chew


Start off slow
Don’t bite
Don’t chew
Just let it be
&
You
Be
You
Next to it

Don’t try to eat it or it will eat you

dotdotdot

what is it exactly about?

about?

friend, there is no about to which you must tie your mind

about?

freedom has NO bounds - freedom is not ABOUT - freedom does NOT wrap

itself about anything but You!

It is about nothing.

Ah ... Serenity.

or, you know,

it doesn't even matter.

you know, it doesn't even matter that you just asked that,

because,

who else would say,

"You have a different take on sin... Like it's your ally ..."

i,

on the other hand,

am

not inclined to consider such things.

i

am

more inclined to say, ooh! look! it's a blank cd!

It makes me

i knew it would be you.

i like when you write :)

mine is dark purple right now open sky starry night beautiful :)

what if eve was given the pleasure of choosing between the two trees? what if she chose which sin to commit?

how come you have to bee so purty?

shut up.

i like it when you're angry. it makes me ...

want to spin and whirl

what color is the sky in your world?

mine? almost looks like day. can't even find the moon.

its a full moon tonight isn't it?

you just made my lights blink.

and laugh -

it's patio time
my outside dance is hummin
tellin me ta
come outside and
dance

and laugh

and that's quite enough.

Right now, I give you one reason to love absolutely Ms. Tammy Vitale:

thought for the day: This year I've decided I'm going to write - no matter what form resistance takes. I may have to walk past a screaming baboon, crusted barbed wire, or stay in a room with a foul odor. I may have to look in the mirror and confront cellulite and age and the breaking of past promises. But it's all okay. Because I'm on the road to freedom. There is only one road through this. I'll be gentle with myself, but I'll hold to my desires with both fists, all my breath, and the golden stallions of my yet untapped strength. I've fooled myself for far too long, saying it's easier not to make the commitment. Now I know I'll never live my full dreams without this commitment. Besides, resistance is the clear sign that I'm getting to near the gold mine or stash of real change. I must be afraid of something very big and explosively good. Ooh la la.

There it is.

One reason.

And that's quite enough.

http://www.tammyvitale.com/
from her 01-18-08 blog

thank you!

thank you moon for the beautiful sweat
the sun for weeks aint brought it
like mister grant said
no sweat
said a mouthful, mister grant,
no sweat,
for real.

no sweat.

Oh, Eight - Thanks for Me

Oh, Eight, Oh, Eight, Oh, Eight

Oh, wait! Oh, wait for me!

I gotta stop here for one tiny bit to thank a big part of me for staying intact through all of his storms and all of His storms.

Thank you, RJ.

Oh, kay. I'm through now.

Let's run!

Wee!

Oh, Eight! Oh, Eight! Oh, Eight!


***

yellin at a flower don't make it bloom - needs sunlight and water and elbow room - even a rose, gotta pay some dues (thank you for introducing me to old father hubbard)

***

to everything there is a season (thank you for teaching me to crave balance over all other cravings)

***

push - pull - rest (thank you for teaching me the secret to growth is the repeated pattern of push-pull-rest)

***

thank you for allowing me the pure pleasure of being raised by a wildly sensitive, thoughtfully spontaneous, hippie

***

thank you for teaching me the value of my own mind - and thank you more for always valuing my mind

***

thank you for teaching me that wisdom means withholding all you wish to say, even if it is truth

***

thank you for calling me on sundays and giving me word puzzles to solve
(because, as you know, "my mind's a shaking, gnawing fiend ...")

***

thank you for endowing me with your wild compassion and always restrained lest it become all-consuming passion

***

thank you for teaching always by example

***

thank you for teaching me to chastise in private and praise in public

***

thank you for naming me for a song

peace. love. amie.

Centered

No matter my weakness,
No matter my failure,
If this is it,
If this is as good as it gets,
I am proud to say,
That in all of my life,
I accomplished this.

My Favorite Goodbye

Today is my goodbye to 2007 and I'm having a blast!

I am going to bury it with all the flare of a Viking funeral and glory in what I've turned myself into thus far while embracing the me I wish to fully be.

I had mentally set aside 2008 as an exciting year since my birthday will be 08-08-08 and I love things in threes. But, that was long ago ... long before I thought the year 2000 was a thing I would touch. When you are a child, anything that you cannot feel immediately is far, far away, and NOW, back then, was just that.

Far, far away.

Back then, I would use my future self as a focal point. My anchor to the future to pull myself and hold myself to my goals.

Now, while watching the innocence in my children's eyes and the purity of their love for all the things they love, I have chosen a new focal point.

Today is an exciting day for me. I have prepared for this mental shift for a long time and I am enjoying the snakelike slithering out of a skin that was beautiful while it was mine.

Today I kiss every part of me that I've built and I say, good job, Ms. Johnson.

I bid farewell to the anchor that I have clenched for my entire life, and, so far, this is my favorite goodbye.

Dear Sasha:

Dear Sasha:

About your muse,

While you’re chewing on her,
Does she chew you up too?
While you’re drinking her to get that warm part of you warm,
Dear Sasha,
please tell me,
is she drinking you too?

Are you broken when you find her
or are you you and then she breaks you?

Is yours poison like mine?
Does she kill as she breeds?
Does she make you fat to make her full?

If not,
then,
Dear Sasha,
please teach her to me.

52 Post 52

What if?

What if is good.
It makes us flip inside out and being inside out is good

if we are born
to be oh so bad
then
being inside out of ourselves must be the goodest of goods

so, let’s jump on this rug and make ourselves flip
insideout
let’s get inside out of ourselves and when our right selves bump into each other’s right selves,
for once,
baby,
we get it right

wanna get it right everytime with me
let’s get inside out
wanna go with me?

not gonna cure you, but it’s gonna feel good
wanna get inside out next to me getting inside out and see if we are really just one

are you real?

You ask how

I grab my SELF and I grab my RIGHTNOW and I hold on tight to both and smash them together until they are ONE.

That's my way.

Have you found yours?

Lovesong (to Insomnia and Lost Stuff)

I'm about to go make a bad decision or two.

If you love me, please make me stop

make me stop make me stop make me stop

make me stop on my way out of the blue room to turn off my ringer so i won't be interrupted

i'm gonna stay up late and watch a movie that i borrowed from me mum because i want so very badly to stop thinking for half a second and let the world unwind itself from the jawbone of my mind

and you

i want so very badly to stop thinking for half a second about you

***

i call it lovesong to missing gat damm digital camera cord and gat damm missing remote control batteries and banged shins and having to wedge my body in through a crack in my unwheeled sliding patio door which i absolutely love, by the way

Guilty as

sin,

that is,

IF sin's where you've been,

cuz, mister, I'm guilty of you,
cuz, mister, I'm guilty of you,
yes, mister, I'm guilty of you.

wherever you've been,
i've been there too,
cuz, mister, I'm guilty of you.

i'm guilty as sin,
if sin's where you've been,
cuz, mister, i'm guilty of you
i'm guilty as guilty ol' you.

Charged

the in-bee tween you and me stuff is just like it is here but it's ... well, with no big or small space, just magnet purple sky that sucks the best of you and the best of me up into it and then chews up our bodies and vomits them kerplunketyplunketydustbowlsplat into the eye of the storm that's created when you mix up the best of you and the best of me ... well, it's a swirling, sucking twistlooptyloop cycle of you and me bits that resembles a litter-filled texas tornado, but the litter is just denser bits of you or me, and then, my favorite, the sparkly bits, that youmeglup

the in-bee tween you and me stuff, that's some potent shit

Nothing of the sort

God, this is good.

But, what makes it pretty damn perfect is this:

It's good hot and is pretty wow because it smells up the whole house with that warm kinda melty sweet smell. Of course, that's good. But, when that same food can kinda chill with you, like they say not to do in a food handler's course - like you get up early Christmas morning to make scrambled eggs and chocolate chip panty cakes and then you eat some then ... and you know the house smells wow because you stepped outside ... and you were only gone a second, but then, when you came back in, wow ... it smells like warm scrambled eggs and chocolate chip pancakes and little boys soap and clean hair and christmas - yup - smells like straight christmas in here - so, at that exact moment - muah!

the food is swell.

but, then, you let it chill, all bundled up together in a foggy little huddle - forgotten in the kitchen while the real fun explodes on the other side of the wall - boom - boom - boom - big smiles and bigger laughs and the only thing bigger's the hugs, and the food, eggs on bottom in a do not microwave senselessly frilly open dutch oven thingie with the pancakes, chocolate chip on the bottom, thin crispy buttery plain ones stacked on top, on top - in a plate - stacked on top of the dutch oven thingie, kinda like a lid - and, you know ... it makes the bottom of the plate all steamy and foggy and that makes the chocolate oh so allthetimegooey, but the thin crispy plain ones are not touching the chocolate at all, so ...

it's sitting there chillin', the whole time you're chillin'

sittin there lookin like you're enjoying your time, but you’re fightin down bile that's fightin against your fight like a ragin blizzard

that amidoingtherightthingfortheselittleboysoramihopelesslyfuckingthemupgodihopeimnotfuckingthemuptheselittleangelsaretherealestrealmadeupoftherealestshitieverseenandgodpleasedontletmebefuckingthemupletmebelovedsomedaylikeestherandzpleasegodpleasegodpleasegodplease
kinda bile that snakes up a mom's throat about a million or a dozen times a day.

And when the presents are already divided up into the naturally ordered chaotic piles of tighter and tighter swirls of wrapping paper, toy and packaging and making its way in tighter and tighter and lines – routes, if you will, backyard, patio, open gate, dumpster, open gate, in, or – blue room, boys room, toy box, closet, bed, or – like me, to a chair.

boom

Little boom. Not a sonic. boom.

... so, of course, it’s those thin, crispy, oily, salty, buttery plain ones that aren’t touching the chocolate at all that you reach for first.

they chill so well.

roll it up and while your nostrils are telling your mouth you are about to inhale a tongue-full of warm and melty, allthetimegooey chocolate you taste nothing of the sort and it’s

so

damn

good

CraveDread

Where were you the last time you sighed and said, this is heaven...

did you spread and wiggle all of your toes?

did you curve each curve you could find with your spine?

then, I guess your heaven's a little less heavenly than mine...

Flame

The flame does not kill the moth.

Jumping into the flame ...

That kills the moth.

Go to WARD it, not IN to it.

Push.
Pull.
REST

And, now, REST.

And, you know what else I think?

I think that NOW is the only thing that ever is.

I think that NOW has no beginning and no end and I think that I can't comprehend that, but I think that by accepting it and by recognizing it and realizing it that maybe just maybe I'm expressing gratitude and love toward a God who is bigger, better, faster more better than me

and,

after all,

isn't that how I'd want to be loved?

Addiction is Addiction

Only the poison varies.

That's what I wrote in a yellow notebook that I can't find right now.

You know what I think?

I think that to realize NOW is to just slow one's SELF down so that oneself slows down and you begin to see NOW through REAL EYES.

Real eyes realize.

Like a blind man's.

Like a one who's been touched by God.

Train to Albany Girl

I wrote this 08.22.07 (the day before my daughter, Faith, would have turned 9)

***

This is today and today is the very day I found this book.

It was lying face down on my piled-up-with-crap dresser. It looked like one of Benjamin's journals, and I love journals. But, here's what: I never kept one.

So, I find this black notebook today.

It makes me pause. You know pause. Yes?

Pause. Okay. You're sitting on a train trying to imagine the thrill of a few minutes from now when you are barefoot at home posting "spider pig" Amie-sprinkled fun songs on MySpace. You're on this train, and this ain't the South. It's hard to fix a disinterested gaze in mid-air when all the air you see is people-covered. So, you're headed to Albany and there's so much circus and way too many clowns, and then you look up and see this girl.

Pause.

Tu sabe pause? Train to Albany girl. Upside-down black notebook. Same thing - same thing.

Pause.

Pick a color, King James.
Pink.
Pink? Wow. Out of every color, I would not have guessed that.

Just tell me one thing, Boss. Tell me the again the Albany Train Girl story.

Raelynn, I mean, Abby - Jadju's out tonight.

Mama, I probably shouldn't be leaving this message, because by the time you get it and look at the sky, to look at the moon, the circle will be gone.

D? I don't remember playing cards together. Do you? That's a random question. we played something at your uncle's house. Phase 10. With Abby. The 3 of us. I did not know that until today.

It's funny how much of life we forget. Or maybe it's sad.
...But, not for me, because I remember now!

(D shakes his head and looks like he's thinking how-do-I-put-up-with-this-crazy-girl, but all he'll say is, "Goofball!")

Only wisp oils in water vapor magnet purple sky
Bloom afield a murky lot of booming booming sky.

She had on a red top. The best part was her smile because it was so cute, and ... and it was perfect like a little kid's smile.

Plus, she had beautiful lips - they were so full ... and when she smiled?

When she smiled, her eyes lit up.

She was just nice.
... and wasn't intimidating even though she was drop-dead gorgeous.

"That's a random question."

I innocently turn around just when I knew his hate would still be in his glare. I gotta sit real deep in myself at the office these days.

Thirty years. All I can say is I don't know how to stop. Instead, I say Hmph! and I look down my nose & I know that she knows that I've lost. She knows I am naked and thoroughly shamed. I hate her so much cuz she won't look away.

(and then, in green ink at the bottom of the page, I wrote: page 12 of 17 from 2004. maybe I had it write [sic] the first time.)

Yes, you are

she starts with the last page first and, that is for carla jo

s
o
.
.
.

that is one of the reasons this is an insideout



another reason this is an insideout is that 1217Bee named this baby before it was born

another reason this is a swell insideout is that i know you are torn
between
between
between
likepeanutbutterwhitebreadroofofmouthstuckin
betweenbetweenbetween

there’s no way that i can, but i do, and you are, so i know you are


torn


inbetweeninbetweeninbetween

the you you are now’s a you you’ve never been
and you’re torn in two trying to run back and forth
betweenbetweenbetween
between

between the you you are now
and the you you will be
for, just like i’d hoped you’ve continued to read

to read is to learn
what the writer is learning
you read you ‘cuz you’re what i’m writing
i’m saying it
i’m telling you,
but you still don’t know it
there’s no
way
i
can do that, so therefore i’m not
to you,
to you,
to you,
to you

to you, i am not, so ...

to you, i’m not.

Peace Monster

Start off slow
Don’t bite
Don’t chew
Just let it be
&
You
Be
You
Next to it

Don’t try to eat it or it will eat you

Sin, Salt & Me

Happy to bee to bee to bee
Happy to bee a part of this shade
Part of this made in the lemonade day
Happy to bee to be just a bee, to be
the bee part of this lemonade day
this water sprinkler, green grass, shade-dappled, leafy sky, shade
made in the lemonade shade
made in the lemonade shade
shady day
shady day
shady day

like salt,
like salt,
like me
like sin
like salt
like me

who knows what it does or if and when it’ll kill ya
but it keeps catching you and sending you back
to that place where you want just a bit more

so stop there
and let this be the season
the season of me
push,
pull,
rest
then, everything, everything else,
but always back
to the season of me

only we spoil sin by letting it linger
lick it on your way to your best and leave it behind and go be your best and then when it’s time to taste just a taste,
you taste just a taste

don’t go all Winnie-the-pooh with a honey pot on me,
a dab’ll do ya

sin, salt, and me

Two Below

Only we spoil sin
King james said there is pleasure in it
For a season

And

You say
You say
You say
You say

You say
King james
He say
To everything
There is a season

We drove a van to ms morrison’s
And now we go in a borrowed car
Full of tears and full of cheers
And five hearts desperately waiting

Waiting for a taste, for the scent on the wind
Just a hint of honey
To say

To say
To say
To say
To say

Keep going, mama
Keep going, friend

But most days now I don’t know why at all
…’bout anything, much less this

lemon starch and lemonade
plant me a tree,
and I’ll have it made

I’ll have it made in the grassy shade that’s full of green and wet and warm and moist and dark and cool but always green and always live and fat and happy to bee

I don't know what she's talking about, but I love her ...

Watch your children and love them the way you always wished a parent had loved you and be proud of yourself because you're BETTER and because you CAN. You do that every day that you can and the payoff is exactly as good as you can imagine it to be.

Watch your husband and love him the way you always wished a husband had loved you and be proud of yourself because you're BETTER and because you CAN. You do that every day that you can and the payoff is exactly as good as you can imagine it to be.


Watch your self and love her the way you always wished you had loved her and be proud of yourself because you're BETTER and because you CAN. You do that every day that you can and the payoff is exactly as good as you can imagine it to be.

Apple to Apple

O
Yeah! O O
You leave the O O O
at the O O O
top O O O O O
BEE, leave the O, O O O O O
i O O O
t’ O O O O O
s tha O
H O
OOK Oh, leave the O. The O? Do you know why?
?YHW
od uoy wonk
O
eht
O
eht
evael
h,
O
Well, the air is all minty now.
Cuz of you.
Cuz of you saying it was me that reminded you of mint, or actually, you said that mint always made you think of me.
Which it should, but only if you know me and not many do, but you said mint reminded you of me, so I guess between you and me, that makes two.
Two of us knowing I love mint, and right now, at 1123 in red parish, that’s one more than I had in a long, long time.
And it felt like it feels right now.
Like a red sweater blue-eyed hug and I remember lookin’ ‘cross the tiles at who we were lookin’ at while we talked about sex and love and hate and us and fuck it all except the dates.
The dates.
You have to admit the dates are weird.





THE BLUE ROOM, THE BLUE ROOM, THE BLUE ROOM
for me

I
re

quest THE BLUE ROOM
for you and for me

Either Way

I can’t tell if that’s the weather or you,
but either way,
I’m shakin’ now
Either way,
The weather or you.

Is that you out there, Daddy?
Or, is that the wind?
Either way I’m shakin now,
Either way,
Daddy, weather, wind or you.

I’m shakin’ now,
Hold me now,
Keep us right here

I built a fine nest,
We can wrap up and lie here and weather this storm.

I built a fine nest,
Love,
In the top of this tree.

Ain’t no big or small space,
Just space
In between

Either pullin’ or pushin’ us
And sometimes we collide and sometimes we repel and sometimes
Sometimes,
In the deep of this nest in the top of this tree
Sometimes,
We get it right.

Sometimes, love, we sit in the light
In the right
In the best healthy way
We sit in the light
Under umbrella or only at night, the sky is the sky and the sky gives light

We share with the sky and then we are good
We circle around and recycle sky’s Good
We give and we take. Irie cycle. Sky’s good.

As Forecasted

Reine, Reine,
Go Away
Go Away, Go Away
Some other day

Today, this day, right now, right now,
Today, Reine, be here with me
Today, Reine, be here with me
Right now, right now, this day, today,
Today, Reine,Don't go away

Today, Reine,
Please take me away.

Stay here, Reine,
and please me today.

Please stay here
now with me, sweet Reine.

The Apple to The Slog

Says the apple to the slog, "No. I don't know what that is."

Slog hears "No." Slog stops. Slog is simple.

Apple continues, "but, if you show me what it is, I'll show you how to better use it."

Slog hears "No." Slog stops. Slog is simple.

Gracious

if i can't count on you to say what true, who can i count on?
i am thin. who cares. i just am always shocked to see any kind of emotion on your face. it always catches me off guard.
rare thing.
you know what i think?
i think if one was a bee or a bird in a past life that god would surely be gracious to not let that one remember her wings in this one.
you know?
like, maybe i was a nomad or a gypsy in another time and place, but damn. i just wanna stay still now. i really, really do. i just don't know how. i'm always wanting to run.
lol! sorry to let your goofball get so deep. :)
should post this as a blog instead of mail as a letter so as to diffuse its intensity among many instead of bombarding one with its somber weight.
i shall get rid of this immediately and get your goofball back.
p. l. a.

Edited for content

So, I'm making good progress on mi casa and I love it more every day.

I love it more each day when I wake up in it, and I love it more every day when I come home to it - so, that's a good sign. Yes? I take it as such.
People are saying I look well - they're still complaining that I'm too thin, but also saying that I look good since I left him. I don't know about that. I pretty much feel like I must look like a bowl of cold oatmeal since that's kinda what I feel like on the inside, but ... you never know what other people see.
The boys are happy. Very happy, actually.
After all, isn't that what it's all about?
p.l.a.

Domestic

Remember that time,
before we were domesticated,
when we drank out of rivers and streams?

Remember that time,
before we were tamed,
when we bathed in moonbeams and danced in reine?

Remember that time,
before we were this,
when we were free to be and let be?

Remember that time,
before you knew me?

Who were you then?

Do you know?

So, that makes sense

It's been a helluva week.

But now, today, tonight, I'm much more relaxed. Mellow, almost. Not quite, but getting there. Still not sleeping very much, and when I do, I have dreams about weighing myself on a golden scale. It's awful. So stressful. I keep shrinking and shrinking. I think the scale must be wrong, so I do what I always do in dreams - I don't pinch myself. For some reason, I go to a mirror. In real life, if things are surreal and I wonder what's real and what's not - like maybe, I feel like I'm spinfalling in love & since that is foreign to me, I find a mirror. I guess my face is the only one I trust, a therapist might possibly suggest. Maybe she's right. Maybe he is. All I know is what I do and what I do is find a mirror.

So, in my dream, I step off the golden scale and walk to a huge, thick, shiny - super shiny - glossy - mirror. It's so stressful. So traumatic, to me. The more people throw at me, the more I have to juggle and the more I have to juggle, the faster they throw and I am speedrunjumpbouncing to catch up and keep up with them. I'm making my face so still and my breath even, too. Making it look like a breeze.

But, see, here's the thing: it takes so much energy. So, so much energy.

And in front of my eyes, I am shrinking. I go up close to the mirror. This must be a dream. I look like me, but the harder I stare, the more confused I get and I'm shrinking and shrinking and I hate how they stare.

Juggling. Juggling. Tumbletripmoonbouncing for all of my worth.

But, all my reserves are spent.

I'm through-er than through. I'm spent-er than spent.

Of course, it's a dream, so I dream up some badass food, and I'm standing naked in front of the glassy glossy mirror of me and somehow, now, the bathroom is brighter and whiter which makes me uncomfortable and that makes me shrink and that makes me anxious and that makes me shrink

I want to freak out, but I get centered, and since I'm not very centered at all - only trying to be - I run fast for a crutch to chase off my Weak.

I eat this humongous DagwoodJohnsonBoy triple decker sandwich with cartoonish-type colorfully hanging out over the edges meat and lettuce and probably tomatoes – and, since it’s a dream, nothing spills over the edges onto my face or floor or even my hands and the bread is warmly, softly purrfect.

So, I’m eating and eating and I watch myself still tragically shrinking and everything I do has me shrinking some more which leads me to shrinking some more.

And then …

Hmmmmmmmmmm … Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz …

I stop reacting to the mirror and the shrinking and angry stares and hateful glares and I don’t know if they go away or if I do, but I am no longer aware of shrinking or growing or size at all, and pretty soon I forget about being cursed with a body in the first place, and then we shift … and, now … what’s important to me, and to all of the ones who stare, is what we let ourselves be … not what we let ourselves see.

And seeing is still believing, but now we are choosing what we see and we only see such wonderful things and eyes full of wonder find power in beauty and we are blind to everything but. So, stronger and stronger are we and you and I and me and us. More beauty, more power, more Seeing in us, more Being in us.


So, they say we dream stuff like that in little 30 second spurts. (Which makes me wonder if dreams are mindsex – I mean, of course, they are to me; you know this; I say it all the time. But what I mean is: What if it’s like that for real real. Not just in a figurative way in a stupid girl’s head. As if each dream is an orgasm – achieved by either mental masturbation or mental copulation with another coursing, surging soul.)

So, anyway, they say we dream stuff like that in little 30 second spurts, which confuses me to a certain degree until I think about my thoughts on “pre” “diction” and what society means when they say it and what I think it really says about understanding things before you have words to explain how or why you understand it – understanding, before words – PRE. before. DICTION. words.

So, when I dwell on that for a moment.

After I really let that soak into my blood,

I decide it makes perfect sense. Tu sabe?

You know?

We say so much more when we do not have to slow down to make words.

So, that makes sense.

Red Parish Me

Red sweater
Red door
in a box, I found four
red reindeer sweaters when I
let the red door
let the reindeer red sweater red mouth red door
red parish me.

Now.

To myself, I said,
Self?
and
self say,
Hmmmmmmmmmm…

Red sweater (hmmmmmmm...)
Red door (bzz) (hmmmmmmmmm...)
in a box, I found four

Go slow, now, love
Or let me go slow
Just lie back, with me, Love,
And let’s chew up this night.

Just lie down with me, Love,
Let’s make this all right
You know and I know and the world sho do know it
But let’s make it work, daddy,
Let’s make this all right

They just know I’m through with you,
They don’t know what I went through with you
And for you...?
You don’t.
Not yet, daddy.

Not yet.

Go slow, now, love
Or let me go slow
Just lie back, with me, Love,
And let’s chew up this night.

Let’s chew up and spit out
And light up this night.

Thunder and lightning.

Black and white.

Big, dark clouds

and bright, white light.

Uneasy with Ease

Somethin' in 'er eyes tell me she full.

She prowls past my throne and

i smell something in the breeze

that has just left her hair.

The hunter who prepares for her day

by bathing and stretching

in the golden gaze between Earth&Sun

is not preoccupied.

Something

about her

...

satisfaction

shakes up

my

ease.

Clouds Play in Moon's Grave

The sky.
The sky's so high.
So blue and so bright, when
it's not night.

The sky.
The sky.
It is so high.
It's under my feet, and
So am i.

Bookmark 1

Between these two bookmarks, are pieces I unearthed and found still relevant to me today.

Written between 06/19/07 and 06/24/07 - it must have been raining. I think so clearly during rain. Zz ...

Storm 2

It’s just so

big,

and wonderful,

and real.

I know we can’t

be the only

ones

watch

ing.

This show in the sky,

Of you and of me,

This storm

of you

in

side

me.

Storm 1

Thunder

&

lightning.

Black

&

white.

Big, dark clouds

&

bright,

white

light.

Faeries Lull a (Sweet Good) Bye

Your harmony,
I’m peace,
You’re peace.

I’m harmony
You’re peace,
I’m peace.

Trading places, holding hands,
Spinning circles, humming tunes,
Honeychild, honeybee, killer, killer, sweet queen bee.

My fortuneteller rose today,
He say Ami a Jewel.
I say,
You read me right today,
Ami arose a Jewel.

So, I walked around today,
I walked around a jewel.
I walked around. A Jewel today.
I walked around you, Jewel.

Today,
I …

Tiptoed tulips, sang from vines,
I whisper-willowed Father Time,
Dark with wolves and bears and me,
I danced with Father Time.

I walked around you, Jewel, today.

And this is what you said:

Your fortuneteller’s good, Ami
He’s Tejas through and through.
His friend he told, so, Friend, unfold
Yellow brick, Red-carpet Gold.

The road is narrow, paved with thorns,
It’s true – it’s widely told.

But, your fortuneteller’s good, Ami.
He’s Tejas, that’s for sure.
Today, he rose, his friend, he chose.
Ob La Di Bla Da.

He called Ami a Jewel today,
You walked around a Jewel.
Your fortuneteller’s good, Ami,
He’s Tejas through and through.

Now, have ‘im go and tap Ms. Jones,
So she and me, we both can be
As one and all as three,
You and me and Missus Jones, we
Wanna walk with you on a cloudy day,
Fields where the yellow grass grows knee-high,
Won’t you … won’t, oh won’t you…won’t you…
Amie, whatchya wanna do?
I think I could stay with you, for a while,
Maybe longer …
Oh, longer if I do … and I keep ….
Fallin’ in an’ outta love with you,
Amie,
Fallin’ in an’ outta love with you.
Some? Times? Some … times… sometimes I just don’t know what to do,
I’m fallin’ deep, I’m fallin’ deep, but it’s so steep, its very steep, I’m fallin’ fast, I’m fallin’ fast,
Tell me, Amie, what to do,
What are you gonna do,
Amie?
Amie, whatchya wanna do?
I keep fallin’ in an’ outta love with you,
But I was meant for you, and you were meant for me.
Yeah, I was meant for you, but I don’t know what to do.
Ah, come on now, gimme some sugar, gimme some sugar, little honeybee,
Honeybee, honeychild, killer, killer, sweet queen bee,
I was meant for you,
And you?
You were meant for me.
So come on now and gimme some sugar.
Gimme some sugar little honeybee.

I’ve told you now,
But you don’t know it.
I’ve told you now,
But you don’t know it.
Twice you want it,
Once I’ve told it,
One more time,
Plus that is twice.
Twice you want it,
Once I’ve told it.
One more time,
Plus that is twice.
I’ve told you now,
But you don’t know,
I’ll tell it now
Again
Another way, but still the same,
The story twice is telling.


Your lullabies are not a dream,
Your lulled goodbyes are not a dream,
They’ve been sung,
Oh,
They’ve been sung.
They live.
They’re not your dream.

Young girls under tree leaves
Brown, and gold, and yellow green,
And sunny-speckled, fairly freckled, cheeks of red and pink,
Oh, yes, my Jewel
Your lulls, your byes, your lullabies,
Your Faeries sing them far and wide.

Your deeds are stacked, Jewel,
Ten miles high,
Your Karma’s still not budging.
Bullfrogs croak, crickets chirp, your judges all are judging.
Your deeds are stacked, Jewel,
Ten miles high,
Your Karma’s still not budging.

Your Karma’s not budging.
Your judges are judging
The wrong stack of glittery deeds,
So tell your judges, Jewel,
Tell ‘em go home,
Go find someone worth all their judging.

For I’m going, I’m going, I’m going back home
Back home where I once belonged
Back on the good ship lollipop
It’s a sweet trip to the candy shop
Where bon bons play
On the sunny beach of peppermint bay
Back on the good ship lollipop
Back home where I once belonged
For I’m going, I’m going, I’m going back home,
Back to the top, the tippity top, of the big, big rock
That big rock candy mountain
Where marshmallow skies tell strawberry lies
And the blues are sweet marmalade fields.
Abbey Road is forever and
Lennon Imagines his pie
In the sky on the wings of a pig.
The marshmallow skies tell strawberry lies
And we lap it up like water
Ree, watery, watery, wet,
As wet as you get, as wet as you get,
It’s never as wet as it was,
So, you’re goin’ back,
You’re going back home,
To find out how you belonged
Innocent, sweet, but deeper than deep
In something so beautifully dark
As wet as you get, as wet as you get,
It’s never as wet as it was,
So you’re going back, going back, going back
Home,
To find out how you once belonged.

You get to go back, we get to go back,
If only we tell what we know.
You know it, I know it.
You show it, you sing it.
I’ll write it, you read it.
Your riches, my riches.
We’ll both share the wealth.

Those little ones dream such big dreams.

You watch it, you learn it.
You burn it, I’ll smoke it.
Freeing sweet honey-soaked lies
Of bumblebees, dragonflies, and killer sweet
Beautiful killer queen bees
Goddess of lilies, goddess of rain, goddess of daffodils, daisies, and thyme,
Ivies and Ivories, Ashers and Bens,
Of Benjamin, Been Jammin, Benji and Boo,
Big Dee? Itty Bitty? That Asher, … he knew
Which one he called … or tickled, or tortured, or hugged, or harassed, Itty Bitty? Big Dee?
Thing One or Thing Two?
That Asher, … he knew.

C’mon, big brother.
C’mon brothers two. Follow me, Asher, and Big Brother Boo.
Follow me, Asher, and Benjamin, too.

Wendy’s a-nest atop of Pan’s tree,
She’ll spin us all the most colorful tales.
You’ll listen and love her for loving you first.

Benji is jammin’ with Beatle-long hair.
Mommy’s got Daddy alone in her lair.
Asher’s Ben-busy, but makin’ some time
To play with you, brothers, to make your world mine.

Atop of Pan’s tree,
We’ll crow and we’ll fly.
I’m busy sweet brothers, but I’m makin’ some time.
You make me yours and I’ll make you mine.
We’ll crow and we’ll fly and we’ll dance and we’ll sing
Up there with Wendy
Atop of Pan’s tree

She plays the flute, she plays with Pan’s harp,
Chimes and drums and birds that sing.
Limes and plums and church bells ring
‘round the rosies, down the hall, pluck a daisy, bounce a ball,
Good is better,
Better best,
Best is better than the rest.
Lennon and Dylan and Harper and Raitt
Are bobbin’ with Marley, Tedeschi and K.

K, oh he’s jammin’
And Benjamin too,
Your Mommy’s our Wendy
And Peter Pan, too.
She Tom and she’s Huck,
He’s Sawyer and Finn.

Brother one, brother two, to each of you, twin,
Asher says, brother, so listen to him.

Not everyone lives like this,
Brothers, see?

Not everyone lives at the top of a tree.
With bumblebees doing their deedlebug dance,
With dragonflies casting their blueberry trance.
With lemonade sipping through clear plastic straws,
Now dash away, dash away, Asher, and all.

Your Love and your Faith are buried dark deep
With dirt and with sod. With roots and with worms.
Share a tea with what’s hers and what’s yours.
Your Love and your Faith are buried dark deep.
Tell the story that she already knows,
She’s buried dark deep with roots and with worms and grows through our skin like a glow
She’s a flame of Mom’s Wendy alive in us all.

She brings Daddy peaches,
She brings Daddy plums,
She rinses and pats them and cuts them in squares
With bells on her toes and curls in her hair.

Not everyone’s Mommy is crazy like ours.
Not everyone’s Mommy is so unrefined:
Ours whistles and curses when she forgets that we’re here,
She sings and she dances while she pours Daddy’s beer,
She says “Mommy’s sorry,” when she makes a mistake,
She hates a frog, but she loves the snake.
Mosquitoes are demons – worse than wet floors,
Mommy’s the richest – she’s never been poor.
Our Mommy is goofy, and silly, and sly,
And cocky, conceited, she’ll laugh ‘til we’re high
With happy and golden and blue-purple sky,
Our Mommy obsesses with sharing her sky.
Our Mommy is goofy, and silly, and sly,
Mommy’s “We’ll see,” it only means “Maybe.”

K is for Kelley: our Ivy, our Daddy.
His “We’ll see” means “Yes.”
“No” at it’s worst, but mostly, it’s “Yes.”
Mommy is Maybe, but Daddy is Yes.

Daddy is jammin’
Benji is too.
Your Mommy’s our Wendy,
And Peter Pan too.
She’s Tom and she’s Huck,
He’s Sawyer and Finn,
No one else lives like this,
Brothers, you see,

This is our Nest.
This is our Tree.

Dad’s playin’ drums,
Dad’s plantin’ flowers,
Mom’s borrowed Wendy’s
Pen for four hours.

She planted her love. She planted her faith.
A river you are, you are, and am I.
Eden needs four – let’s see what we got.
You and you and him and me.
Brother, Brother, Benji, Me.
Brothers, Rivers, Four are We.

So, c’mon, Ivory, let go of Big Dee,
Lennon and Dylan and Harper and Raitt
Are bobbin’ with Marley, Tedeschi, and K.

K is for Kelley, our Ivy, our Dad.
Daddy and Benji ‘ve been jammin’ two.

Mama’s in the kitchen.
Daddy’s at the grill.

Hubbard’s at the Snake Farm,
Petty’s at the Zoo.

Mama’s on the sofa.
Daddy’s in the chair.

Daddy’s feet are on the floor.
Mama’s in the air.

She is sugar, she is sweet.
She is mean, she can’t be beat.
She has tippy-toes for feet,
She hops, she dances in the street.
She is regal, she is wise.
She is coarse and unrefined.
She’s the free in Skynard’s bird.
She’s the wild in every prairie
Flowers, fires, smoke and faeries.
She fears fire, but loves the smoke.

Mama’s in the kitchen.
Daddy’s at the grill.

The clouds are heavy, dark and wet,
Mama’s in the kitchen,
Daddy’s at the grill.

The sky is growling, deep and low,
Mama’s in the kitchen,
Daddy’s at the grill.
The sky will open.
We’ll all be wet.

Welcome Home

Your life, you knew, would breathe my breathing.
You knew, at first you knew.
You saw, at first you saw.
What all your life you knew.

It takes not one,
It takes not one,
It takes not one,
But two.

One and one is two,
Two and two is four.
Four and twenty make a day;
A day makes twenty-four.
Son, Twenty three is not a day;
A day makes twenty four.
Sun Twenty-three is not a day;
A day needs one sun more.
A day needs one sun more.
Give Daddy two sons more. I want it, Mama. I want more.
Twenty-three is not a day,
A day needs one sun more.
And a week makes seven more…
And a month makes thirty more…
Twelve a year, a year for you,
You’re king, my son, your king and then you blink, you’re in war.
And a war made seventy-four.
Son, you hear? I said a war. A war made seventy-four.

Add five for seventy nine.

I was born while you were bearing.
I cut teeth while you were tearing.
I first walked while you were running.
I was round while you were lost.
In Big and Bright and Loud.
You were lost until you found
That you were you and me.
Crash … into me … into the space between.
Between some space between the big and sad and dark and lost was you.
You were lost,
And I was found until I lost that center of my world for you.
I gave me up. I found you filling. My … self … more than … I …
I paused and melted …found …for lost.
I melted found for lost. For you. For you,
I lost my found… and you lost your lost –with my lost found, you filled your self to filling
With my spilling spilling found to trade your lost until you started winning.
I’d ride your winning higher than mine could spin, spin, spinning on my own was lost for you.
You chewed me up and spit you out.

And I feel so good in it.
In that thing you made when you made us,
Or let me make it,
Whichever we decided it was.

You chewed me up and spit you out.

I gave you two and two.

Two years spent, now
Two sons bent
Across your arms this morning,
Laughing, hugging, kissing, laughing,
Two sons called you Daddy.
Two and two for you.
I was one, I added you.
We grew two by two.

One and one is two,
Two and two is four.
Four and twenty make a day;
A day makes twenty-four.
Twenty three is not a day.
A day makes twenty four.


In seven days, God made the earth.
He sent his son, they say
On Christmas cards and Christmas songs you hear while buying Christmas.
Well, one week later, we start our year and you come into being.
You met my sons the day after Christmas.
You played their games they gave you a crown.
Benjamin snapped into loving.
You met my mom.
We moved you in.
One week after Christmas.
On New Year’s Day I heard you say it,
Mama, can Daddy come home?

In seven days, God made the Earth,
Seven days was your rebirth.

You’ve been here before.
Where have you been?
You’re mine; now let me come home.
I’ve missed you all this time.
You’re mine; Mama, let me come home.
You’re hear at last, I’m waiting so long
To watch your mouth
say it
say it
say it
say it.

Daddy come home.

“It’s cold outside, Mama. Can your Daddy come home?”

And it was cold, our Eden. Softly, breathing, softly sleeping.
A coincidence.
A spider bite.
An uncannily hot Christmas week, but
What can you say ‘bout crazy Texas heat.
The ice the heat the ice the heat the ice the heat the ice …
Switching places Texas-fast, crazy Texas Christmas heat.
The spider bit me,
I was dizzy,
Much too much to walk,
But I drove to the doctor with the last of my holiday high, bright sunny sun in the sky, black boots up to my thigh, with the fading fumes of my cranberry Christmas high, I drove my little red Jeep to the doctor,
The bright was so bright,
And the sun was so sunny,
My eyes were red and dusty and blurry, and worst of all
I was dizzy, so dizzy, so dizzy, so dizzy,
I waited and waited,
But nobody saw me, and I remembered the sexiest man, the blackest, the brightest, the dirtiest beautiful sight, the lonely, the sad, the crazy, the sexy, the old, young, dirty old man, the craziest, sexiest,
Lost,
I thought of him that spider-bite-day while the sun burned unseasonably sunny,
And he lived in some crack house a couple of blocks away, so I went an’ got ‘im.

Sherry Lynn? Yes. Hi. Yes. Bye.
Black and Unc. Yes. Thump. Slap. Thump. Slap. Bye.
White and polished in a den of thieves and den of thieves and lions and lies
A knife and some guns and some thugs and some drugs and some crazy ol’, crazy ol’ lies, like:
This is the life.
Air thick with lies, like: It’s mine, and I’m livin’ my life.
Rescue me. I’m who you know I am. I’m bare-boned and crazy for you.
You belong among the wildflowers and I wanna be the motherfucker that brings ‘em to you.

Daddy, I loved you,
From the second I saw you.
So strong and so weak so crowded, so lonely, so lonely with waiting and waiting for me.
If my arms were the sky I would have scooped you up and breathed in you til you lived
Your lost, lost eyes,
They made me cry when you were gone.
I cried with the lusty lost of the loved,
I cried for you when you left.
If I had been sky if I could be light, I’d have breathed in you til you could breathe.
I cried, Daddy, I hurt like I loved you before.

I hurt like I’d loved you all of my life.

I did, Daddy. You know that I did. I’ve proven I did.

Where have you been?
You said to me you looked through - you knew that you knew that I knew
Smoke was smoking, grills were grilling, fans were fanning sweat, and naps were mapping dreams on starry nights.
Summertime, and the livin’s easy, fish are jumpin’ and the cotton’s high
in twenty-six years to the very exact day before I ran into you.
I breathed. At last. You breathed your breath right through me.
Your light was there, my light was here, but you stopped yours … once you saw
Your tunnel ending,
Light was calling,
You came crawling,
Home.
Too,
Me.
And it’s just for your sake that you be mine, girl,
I’m crawling too
Any time life beats me
Light is calling
We come crawling
Scratching, clawing,
Straight to heaven through hell.

Mama, can your Daddy come home?
There’s fried chicken on the stove, football’s on and the beer is cold,
Much colder than the water in that aluminum horse trough, stock tank, pool the kids are in,
And leaves are falling, but the sunny is sunny until it gets cold, and right now
It’s cold outside.
Can your Daddy come home?

You one tough bitch.
You one mean bitch.
You one tough, mean, sweet bitch,

And don’t make me breathe without breathing your air.
I don’t know how I’ll do it…but I have no choice.

I’m not living if not with you.

I don’t know how I’ll do it, but
I’m beatin’ me… ‘til I stop beatin’… me.

You sweet motherfucker.
You know that?
You a sweet … motherfucker.

And I ain’t gonna cry,
Cause I said that I wouldn’t.

You tough enough to beat my ass,
You tough enough to beat my ass, girl.
You sweet honeychild.

Goddamn, it girl, you kicked my ass…

For me.

Ain’t nobody … ever beat me …into loving me.
Ain’t nobody …said… I’mma make you …hate it …as much as me.
Ain’t nobody …beat me …till …I …beat me.
Ain’t NO.body…piss me off … more …than… you.

You one bad bitch.
You one tough bitch.
You sweet motherfucker.

I’m coming home, Mama.
I’m saying, I’m tired of this cold, Man.

You open them arms, Mama,
Daddy’s home.

I ain’t never goin’ nowhere. Ain’t never. Never going nowhere.
I’m home, goddamn it, I’m home.

It’s taken better men than me,
Now how can that be?

Put my beer in the freezer and some salt on my glass.
You do what you do girl, you do what you do,
You just open them arms and open them legs and do what you do to keep Daddy in the light
I’m home and I’m stayin’
You open them legs
I’m not waiting away anymore light.
I reached the end. The Secret is mine. Knew the day afer juneteenth.

I danced and I sang. I danced and I sang.
I fried pork that only men eat.
I danced and I sang the song that is mine.
I shook you hard with the glory of knowing.
I reached the end. The end of the lying. The end of the waiting. The end of the dying.
I’m here with you now.
We’re living past living.
We found it. It’s paradise lost.
Maybe once, but now it is found.
I was blind, but now I see.

You’re a sweet motherfucker,
You open them arms.

You hear me girl?
Ain’t nobody loved me for me.

You hear me girl,
You getcho ass over here,

I’m ready. You …made …me …ready… to love …me.

It’s cold outside,
Can your Daddy come home?

I’m askin’, I’m beggin’, I’m tired of losing this game.
I’m askin’, I’m crawlin’, I’m tired of lying,

You win,
Can your Daddy come home?

I get it,
Can your Daddy come home?

I’m me, Mama.
Daddy is home.

Hey Daddy?
Dot
Dot
Dot
Daddy, Wel…come home.

Think, Sex, Feel, Love

T. S. F. Amore,

I always feared the light at the end of the tunnel,
So, upon finding myself here, I’ve decided to enjoy the tunnel for the tunnel’s sake.

Surely, she knows the light better than any
I’ll cleave to her and me she’ll teach until the light finds me.

Who were the Mayans and why do I need to find out?
What is this paradise lost and found?
Who is this god beneath my goddess?

I saw paradise once
I felt her breath
I smelled her think and drank her move
Her back was to me, but her shield shone true the reflection of wild abandon of youthful wonderlust
Of pale yellow sunlight and thick, ripe air sweet with smells too primal to name
The smell of the promise that burns through your skin the smell of wet summer the hot winter snow

I fear fire, but love watching beautiful smoke
Curl and curl and
Dance and dance and curl and twist and climb.
It’s the wildest thing I think I’ve seen,
A sexual invitation from the ashes of destruction.
Isn’t that a lot of life?
Sexuality creates, so
Destruction creates,
As long as the sex is sexed.
“Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end,”
They sang it in “Closing Time.”

It’s a circle if you want it to be
It’s a circle if you don’t
It’s a circle if you don’t know what is a circle
It’s a circle if you want it to be
It’s a circle if you don’t

…but, here’s the secret
A circle can be whatever you want
If you want, it will be your throne
Here is mine
This is my world,
My world is thine.
And thy and thee and you.
We are circled in its circles and we hang from twining vines
Because I want it so I have it
I am yours and you are mine
I am the queen the king is mine

Re. Thinking

Re …

Related
Ideas
People
To each on her or his level

Related
Relatives
Relative
Relation
Relationships

Regard
Regarding
Regards

Rebirth
Replant
Reinvent
Rejuvinte
Rebirth
Reincarnate

Television as a way to pass the time
Books as a way to pass the time
Differences
My past versus my present
What I am doing to bridge the gap between my earliest pastimes and my present pastimes
Relating to different people at different stages of my work/day cycle
Synchronizing myself with those who inspire me
Saught inspiration through words that created pictures in my mind when I was young
Television was introduced late in my life and my interest was already held by something else
However, my earliest tv memories are by far my fondest
(recall some old movies/sitcoms)
Inspiration lulled again
Television went away and then came back and is now semipresent but fading
Books came and went and are now semipresent but becoming more and more prominent
My inspiration has waxed and waned and now I feel is only budding
My life until today only a dress rehearsal, a warm-up I was bored with but still had to participate in until it was my turn to take the stage
And now it is time and my new skin feels so right
Each new day feels so bright
I am well and I am right

Bee Taboo

My think tank is a lot like Johnny’s soul shake down.

All of us just wide gold eyes and bobbing mouth and oh-ing lips and face
But minds we are. so all are we. in this tank to think.

Thomas Alva, Mr. E, then there’s Albert, Mr. E, who was Amelia’s Mr. E?

All of us a glowing orb marred by murky depths
Of purple oozing bloody snot and muddy murky glurp.

We’d rather slurp and feed on filth than drink the light’s first light.

We’d rather gorge and purge on slop than lie in white silk sheets.

With Ivies growing vines on walls and golden sunlight down the halls
Tomatoes bowling on the pot Bob Marley sunlight down the halls
Ben Harper has Be’n-jam’in’ in the nursery down the hall with Asher,
Ivory and Big Dee bobbing Afros waving arms
Me and Daddy swing on vines and eat wild fruit and paint wild lies
Blowing bubbles all are we. we dance we laugh on tidal waves.

All of us just wide gold eyes and bobbing mouth and oh-ing lips and face
But minds we are. so all are we. in this tank to think.

Shh ... Cicadas

I am the mighty rooster with a purple peacock mane.

I am the mighty cock with a flowing lion’s tail.

I am the king of the jungle, although you think me queen.

I laid an egg, so, it is said, that I am she.

She is lovely,
She is wise,
She is loved,
She is despised.

She is black with skin of white; she is pure of sin’s delight.

Her empty fullness makes her puke.

Her spinning goldness makes you full you are so full you wanna puke in her so she can be like me
But me is he I am not she who makes you overflow I am she am full of he who makes me me

She’ll cast her spell
You sing so well.
She’ll make you sing and sing.
You think you seek, but you are found.
Were blind, but now you see.

I am the story, not the teller. I am the breezes, not the sea.
I am the smell, I’m not the flower. I am the minute, not the hour.
I am the truth that will be told. My story, me, and you the mind
That makes the universe unwind into the vapor of breath from God’s own nostril into mine

I am the music not the mouth
I am the pound I’m not the ounce
I am the feather not the weight
I am the gold I’m not the gate
I am the spell I’m not the sprite
I am filth I’m not refined


I am the story not the teller I am the breezes not the sea
I am the smell I’m not the flower I am the minute not the hour
I am the truth that will be told. My story, me, and you the mind
That makes the universe unwind into the vapor of breath from God’s own nostril into mine

She’ll cast her spell
You sing so well.
She’ll make you sing and sing.
You think you seek, but you are found.
Were blind, but now you see.

Her spinning goldness makes you bust.
You are so full you wanna puke
In her, so she can be…like me.
But me is he.
I am not she
who makes you overflow.
I am she,
am full of he
who makes me me.

Her empty fullness makes her puke.

She is black with skin of white; she is pure of sin’s delight.

She is lovely,
She is wise,
She is loved,
She is despised.

I laid an egg, so, it is said, that I am she.

I am the king of the jungle, although you think me queen.

I am the mighty cock with a flowing lion’s tail.

I am the mighty rooster with a purple peacock mane.

I am the king of the jungle, although you think me queen.

I am the king.
I make you sing and sing.

Amazing Stillness

I am always naked.

I do not read one book at a time.

I do not write one book at a time.

I cannot fit all I want to do into one life. I live them all at once. I am mocked for admitting I want it all. I am scorned for saying I will have it. I am feared for going out and getting it.

I want it all.

I see it all.

I have it all. Everything I’ve ever wanted. I do not have everything you have ever wanted, but you see my coy contentment and you think I must. I just have everything I desire. Me. I. Not them. Not you. None of what I have is stolen. Just accepted. I was last in the party dress queue so they had run out of beautiful party dresses by the time they got to me and I got a crumpled brown paper bag instead of a dress, but since I arrived in a party dress mood, I wear the crumpled brown paper bag as my consolation prize, but you see I’m completely naked. You don’t see my paper bag at all, and no one sees the party dress you ambitiously brazen. I am as naked as I’ve ever been underneath this bag and you can see it in my eyes. I would have worn a barrel with suspenders as long as it made my point glaringly obvious that I am not a product of someone else’s product. I am me.

I do not write one book at a time.

I do not read one book at a time.

I am always naked.

My thoughts, my actions, my visions, my life is lived on many dimensions and I do not think it is required of me to choose one dimension to override the others. Mother does not cool the lover. Beauty does not tame the beast. Clean does not whiten dirty. Famine never lessens feast.

Your life is the one that comforts you, and I would love to hear your story. I have many things to learn and would love to start with learning you. Please get past my rapacious appetite for life and show me who you are. Please acquaint yourself with the beat of my drum so it no longer frightens you. I am only a mirror. You should not be afraid of things inside yourself you do not understand.

I watched my 19-month-old twin boys tonight. I mean, really watched. They wear a constant smile and seem always searching and always finding and I love the energy their father and I transferred to them. I sat in their bedroom floor with a video camera plugged in the wall beside their dresser. I couldn’t move much, but I sat down on the floor as close to their level as the wire would permit. And I watched. I made an effort not to interfere. Not to instruct or discipline or guide.

It is amazing what I learn when I’m still.

Bookmark 1

Between these two bookmarks, are pieces I unearthed and found still relevant to me today.

Written between 06/19/07 and 06/24/07 - it must have been raining. I think so clearly during rain. Zz ...

Landing Awake on the Island of You

Woke this morning

wrapped up in you.

Can't remember ever feeling so much of me

as I did in that moment

when all of me

was still tangled up

in all of you.

I can smile with each step,

if I know my dreams will find you again tonight.

I can smile with each step,

if each step I take is in your direction.

I can smile with each step,

if I feel us both decreasing the amount of space between us.

If those things are true,

then I am smiling.

If those are not,

I'm smiling still.

We made a magnet out of purple sky

& you said hold on if I should cry.

But sky is high

& I'm so small,

I wailed to you in fear.

Hush sweet child & close your eyes.

This purple magnet's strong.

Swallow a bit & so will I & for always we will be charged.

No space is between us that will make me not feel you.

This magnet is oh so strong.

My eyes did not seek you - not one time today - my feet did not follow your sound.

I woke up just now - feeling like me - tangled up, twisted up, filled up with you.

Thank you for dreaming for me.

Insomniyacker

Everything is mine. I am queen. There is no other queen than me. Just spin me that tale, or, you can try this:

Pen and paper, make love for me. Fuck in my face, so I can keep my ass still.

I'm still awake and my boredom's a voyeur. Be my friend and rock me to sleep.

I need nothing except to be fed.

Ah, come here,

sweet, sticky, baby.

Come eat this sugar plum pie.

Ah, thank you, my friend,

mi tejas,

amie,

mi amiga,

my land and my home.

Thank you for feeding me all that I need.

I'm a slave to this oral fixation.

Ah, that's a sweet friend,

come get what you need.

Just once with me's all you need.

You killed the cat, but, friend,

this jungle makes me king.

Tom Petty was right -

it's gooder than good to be king.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Make me stay still.

Just hum and buzz with me through marmelade clouds.

I'm already purring.

I won't let you leave, love.

I'll hold you down.

Come here, sweet, friend,

I know your favorite game.

Go ahead.

Grin that sex face back into this chair.

Grab your best friend and

be's yo'self still!

Your king knows your mind's dance.

Nine lives for each cat.

Their frenzied stupor of grandeur's illusion -

just the thought of CAT,

and you want to sneeze!

It's not what you're in, dove,

it's only what your OF.

Just be's yo'self still, girl,

and feed some of your OF

to this man.

God.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Seep into my always too hot blood.

Please chill my veins and soften my zeal.

Please, friend, I need to be home.

Let's play my best fantasy out in the sky.

Please, friend, dance with your friend and let your love soak in my face.

They think they are one.

Muggles, she called them.

To me, they're nothing but human.

They -

those human-muggle-drone-herd-copy-of-a-bootleg-copy ...

Ah!

I've got it!

Let's call them earthlings.

Yes, earthlings ... 'cause ... 'cause ...

well, because, damn it, I'm human too!

We're all human - only dialects vary, but one division I abhore is the division of OF.

Earthlings: HUMAN - of ... ? - OF earth.

They don't remember. Parts of them recall parts of them feeling parts of earth. They don't remember.

Because they are not one.

There are humans who did not understand when the universe vibrated for them. There are humans who do not remember thoughts before words or colors before alphabets.

No one knows better than a friend how lonely that makes me. You are my friend. No one knows better than you ... how hot I get. How fucking itchy and goddamn fucking bored, bored, bored.

Daddy. Baby. Ivy. Blue Sky. Friend.

Sunlight, buttercup, tejas, bluebonnet, yellow

rose from the dead on the third day, but to celebrate birth -

the breath and the blood and the sexual magic of birth -

is a foreign concept

... to these ... earthbound maggots ...

Shhhh...

Hush, sweetness, hush...

See, friend?

See, the anger you're soothing in me?

Don't go away, friend.

I'll be your best drug. Let me addict you to me.

I need you to be as greedy as me - as needy as a mouth unfull of its wantings. My brain is so itchy. Please scratch it for me. Please sweetdreamfuck me to sleep.

Lie in this hammock, dove,

sip lemonade.

Lie back, love,

I'll sing you to sleep.

You don't have to sing, friend.

Just sit back and breathe.

Make your eyes soft and round so lover knows you only see ...

Tree, may all the weight of your ancient root press my face in the field - choke me with soil, grind grit in my teeth, rape my throat with your fist if I e'er suck one breath of stagnant, earthbound air.

Oxygen's sweet, but it's not what I need. I need to breathe the moons breath while I sleep. I need to feel breeze - I can only breathe what is still going, I can't become one with what's dead.

I remember a time when the songs between stars throbbed with the dark gurgle of untouched orgasm.

I remember home and having it all. I feel most hours of most days that I'm so bored with Earth I may just chew off my own feet rather than allow the stagnant, dank rot of earthling sleepwalk to seep into my skin and rape me into submission to take root ...

Zzzz...

Make me Stay

Pen, my friend, mi tejas, amie, amiga, mi casa, my temple, my home.

Paper, from tree, from land, from prairie, you came before me and have seen many leagues and legions and tribes and flowers and bees, and you let them all be.

Make love one time to my pen so I can learn to be.

Sit here with me, fragment of glory, and teach me to be still like you. We're both prairie league - you're earth and I'm sky - you're fire and I'm smoke - you're flower and I'm wild.

Sit here with me and teach me to be. Play with me. Talk to me. Listen and answer. Help me keep all of my still.

My mind needs to go back home for a while, so the rest of me can stay where it lives.

My boredom's a voyeur, so spin a sweet sight for these world-weary eyes. Pour me a lemonade chill. Beckon the breeze to blow on my back, just like she did through your leaves.

Bring me your om, your zen, and your peace. Don't make me be human alone.

Make love to my friend, this pen in my hand, and prove to me what is.

What is, what is. I am that I am. What will be will be if I let it; what will be will be if I don't.

Dear paper, dear old, diluted, forgotten life, your life has been scattered. Not shattered, but spread very thin. I hate this ugly skin and this cage called time. I don't need to leave anymore, though, to go back home.

Teacher's too educated. Father's too old. Mother's 'fraid to use it, lest her truth spills out different than what she's told.

Beauty's too little to keep my eyes happy. Time is too simple to keep. Where I'm from I am queen, and experiences don't drip out of rusty, forgotten faucets, but spring out of green mountains like the coolest, wettest waterfall, and kings and queens spend all day in the spray.

Time is an infection; we pity its prey, but, where I'm from, time's never invited. No one builds hospitals and no one sells hope. Enemies are born and then promptly forgotten.

Where I'm from, there's no space between.

Everything is one.

It is. It is if I want it to be. It is if I don't.

An illusion is not what you thought. No matter what you thought, it is not.

When I am home, I never come here. When I am here, I see those frantic for an exit. Not me. I'm not impatient. I'm home.

But, today, I'm a bit weary. Air stinks of scattered, shattered oneness wasted on humans too dull to be complete.

So, pen...So, paper...please make love for me and let me watch what you make. Let it throb and squirm through my head.

Bathe me in enough hot buttered soul to drown the stench of human drone. Be my friend tonight, 'cause, friend, it's been too long.

I don't wanna run, but I need to be home.

Lie here with me, friend, in this honeysucklemoonbeamride. Let's lie here and talk so I'll stay. Lie here, feed dreams to me; I will roll over; my hair needs a braid.

Pen, dance on tree's paper, and show me the way. The truth is the light! Friend, grab me. Make me slow down. I don't wanna leave; God, I need home, but deep down, I know I'd rather be here than be me.

Dear ... Dear ...

Dear Pen, Dear Paper,

Dear Friend & Friend's Lover,

Please be my friend all this day.

This day, I'm weary. I'm in a long space in between waking and sleep. Please spin for me now, a logical fancy to quiet my whimsy and boredom.

No one entertains me today, and I don't want to start looking for an exit.

I've learned to be still, and I'm learning to crave it, but there are days when all of the promised land I remember is just the faint smell of milk and honey.

This day, I'm weary, and I refuse to wander.

So, Pen, So, Paper,

Seduce my whimsy - my boredom's a voyeur, so draw up a beautiful lie.

My dreamers are resting right here in this room. We're all ready to play. Let's build a bonfire and draw lines between stars in the dust to explain why we're wickedly free.

We're all lying back and ready to watch you dance.

Pen Pal

Pen, will you be my friend? Paper, will you be pen's lover and let me watch? You be actors and I'll set the stage. I'll start the spin. You keep it spinning.

See, pen, see, paper, I live in a place I don't belong, and I've been looking for a friend to remind me of home. Home is sweet. Home is far. No one here can imagine colors they've never seen. I miss knowing those who do.

I looked for windows. I waited for doors. But, why? I don't want to search for my exit anymore. I stopped. I'm no longer perpetually leaving. My dreams are proof.

I don't run through forests with black, scratching branches clawing my skin and raping my hair. Not anymore. I don't have to spend my sleep hovering and watching and guarding the weak. Not anymore.

My dreams are dessert, now, every night that I sleep. Now, when I sleep, my dreamers go home. I don't seek an exit anymore; now, I just look for those who remember it too. Meet me here. Meet me there. We'll do this thing or that.

Whatever it takes to melt into that place where we both see colors before names. Whatever it takes to stay in that place where the light is before the sun. (He told you there's nothing new under it!)

La Mac

I can't help but notice, Sir, ... and please allow me to channel for you the attention span of a voyeur at dusk before curtains and lights out so that your mind may content itself to gnaw on this question with me.

I can't help but notice, Sir, whenever you sit down for a while, a hungry buzzing swarm of minds shows up to leech your light.

Sir, who gathers the information that directs the swarm?

What swarmling is advanced enough to befriend an earthling, and how long is the chain of earthlings from the one at the bottom who reported your existence to the top of the swarmlings to the tip, tippy-top of the earthling chain all the way up to you?

Madam Fey

My muse eats truth and can't breathe until she is eating.

She seduces masterpieces through me so she can live. She seduces masterpieces through me so I can live.

Living addicted to she who is addicted to me is the most constant and clean energy I have ever seen.

My muse demands I sweetlullabbyedreamfuck her eyelashes to land on her cheeks. She demands I butterflywhisperwindrape her dreams to force feed her brain the hot, throbbing surge of truth before speech.

I love my muse, and my muse loves me. Our circle is full of that day one light - that light He brought before sun. We draw what we want. We map songs between stars in the sand. It's those songs that we eat. We eat.

Only in Context

My mind's a shaking, gnawing fiend
for the vibration of your soul in my shadow.

The air between our cheekbones coagulates into
begging, desperate space to be filled.

Crash that sweating, steaming face against the windshield of your stage.

You stay right there.
Queen needs a King on his throne.

You stay right there.
A lion is a cat. Jungle makes him king.

You sing what I need, and
I'll help you sing.

An old man's void,
a shaman's trance,
her gold is shaking wet.

You stay right there.
Plant my roots.
I'll feed you all we need.

The Last Straw

I am content

to be

nothing

more than a

golden strand of straw,

and when all the straws get in line,

please allow me the pleasure of letting you go first.

With sincerity,

I request you let me be last.

I don't have to be the best,

just let me be last.

Appleishousness

apples are good
with peanut butter
the creamy kind
apples are good
with colby & jack
the marbled kind
my mind is good
with apples and
you
you make my mind
apple-ish
deliciousness is delectably apply good
today i taste
apple-ish-ous-ness
and it is good
the creamy kind
the thick, hard-to-swallow-without-milk kind
the stick-in-your-throat-and-thicken-your-tongue kind
the shut-up kind of snackety, yackety-yack-stopping
mind stilling good
appleishousness
douglas firs
tea for two
and v for t
and tv too
but not for me
i like my
bit o'honey bee
money tree
gold dust rush
kinda life
that spillin over into yours kinda life that i lead
wanna go
wanna go
wanna go
with me
bees wings can't carry bees
i can't be in your mind
but they do
and i am
so are you
appleishousness
apples are good
you are too