are you feeling better?
the weather isn't any wetter
i could have written you a letter
but i'm wearing my business sweater
work today is a double-header
(man, I could go for a slice of cheddar!)
Wednesday, March 25, 2015
Tuesday, March 24, 2015
shoulder pain
each day at 3:15
for about two months running
my upper right shoulder begins to scream
pain lights up the length of my shoulder blade like
a christmas tree on the first of december
i jerk back and clasp my hands
drink a sip of water
stretch back
the shouting disintegrates into a dull murmur
i don't think anyone else can hear it
but i'm quite certain it will return
my body is starting to tell me what
my mind already knows
for about two months running
my upper right shoulder begins to scream
pain lights up the length of my shoulder blade like
a christmas tree on the first of december
i jerk back and clasp my hands
drink a sip of water
stretch back
the shouting disintegrates into a dull murmur
i don't think anyone else can hear it
but i'm quite certain it will return
my body is starting to tell me what
my mind already knows
late march
i've got the late winter early spring chilly morning blues
nose runs, throat drags its limping lymph-nodes lazily
raspingly grasping the edges of my teeth
wearisome wispy warbles wither within
the bus screeches, we all jump off
the wind howls, we tuck our faces
into the curving caress of hooded
duvets, I fall asleep in mine
whether I'm sitting or standing
tip tappering toes turn of their own accord
with the faint glim glammering hope
an orange
a losange
a small cup
of morning glory elixir
warm, frothy tendrils
reach up from my to-go glass
they blow kisses and laugh
at my grumbly human existence
my cheeks dimple of their own accord
Monday, March 23, 2015
"today"
thinking softly about this poem by mary oliver, entitled "today":
Today I’m flying low and I’m
not saying a word.
I’m letting all the voodoos of ambition sleep.
not saying a word.
I’m letting all the voodoos of ambition sleep.
The world goes on as it must,
the bees in the garden rumbling a little,
the fish leaping, the gnats getting eaten.
And so forth.
the bees in the garden rumbling a little,
the fish leaping, the gnats getting eaten.
And so forth.
But I’m taking the day off.
Quiet as a feather.
I hardly move though really I’m traveling
a terrific distance.
Quiet as a feather.
I hardly move though really I’m traveling
a terrific distance.
Stillness. One of the doors
into the temple.
into the temple.
Friday, March 20, 2015
fried and fraying
last night I set a paper bag of popping corn on fire in the microwave.
as the flames engulfed the bag, I gingerly pulled the bundle of pyrotechnic possibility out of the heating square
my brain ticked rapidly to locate the fire extinguisher.
vision became a Goldeneye screen
I was moving player 1
45 degrees, one click, one more,
turn back, advance, no fire extinguisher
Eyes switch to the left and land on a metal mixing bowl
10 o'clock as the crow flies
I grabbed it and set it upon
the now
entirely
flaming
paper bag
Smoke started to creep out from the turned-up edges of the metal bowl
so I threw a towel around it, then flipped it right-side-up scooping a few bits where the fire persisted. Splashed water around.
Sighed.
My feet turned toward the broom closet, but my hands found nothing.
Last resort took a small hand brush sweeping device and swept up all of the blackness around me. I swept and swept and the ash turned into a light rain and I softly laid down on a pillowed fluttery mountain
and the rain was only dust around my temples
swirling in the mist I heard your voices and laughed and fell strangely asleep.
as the flames engulfed the bag, I gingerly pulled the bundle of pyrotechnic possibility out of the heating square
my brain ticked rapidly to locate the fire extinguisher.
vision became a Goldeneye screen
I was moving player 1
45 degrees, one click, one more,
turn back, advance, no fire extinguisher
Eyes switch to the left and land on a metal mixing bowl
10 o'clock as the crow flies
I grabbed it and set it upon
the now
entirely
flaming
paper bag
Smoke started to creep out from the turned-up edges of the metal bowl
so I threw a towel around it, then flipped it right-side-up scooping a few bits where the fire persisted. Splashed water around.
Sighed.
My feet turned toward the broom closet, but my hands found nothing.
Last resort took a small hand brush sweeping device and swept up all of the blackness around me. I swept and swept and the ash turned into a light rain and I softly laid down on a pillowed fluttery mountain
and the rain was only dust around my temples
swirling in the mist I heard your voices and laughed and fell strangely asleep.
Thursday, March 19, 2015
american tunes
You find nice things when you finally upload all your pictures and media off the real camera.
My friend Nels shot some footage during my annual Friendsgiving Potluck, back in November. Close-ups and far-aways. I like playing music with my friends Jamie and Ben.
My friend Nels shot some footage during my annual Friendsgiving Potluck, back in November. Close-ups and far-aways. I like playing music with my friends Jamie and Ben.
tye dye bathing suit bottoms
juices mingling together
strawberry particles broken down
acidic lemon cut with carbon dioxidized bubbles of cranberry and
lime ginger topping crisping your tongue at the last moment of departure
a moment; hush; large bed and three juice bottles struggling for attention overshadowed by a
small mountain of dirty laundry, still waiting, ignored this entire week
(chose to write little words down instead
that's what bathing suits are for anyway)
they get you through until
the night of the week
some call "thunder
day" i choose to
call it laundry
day
strawberry particles broken down
acidic lemon cut with carbon dioxidized bubbles of cranberry and
lime ginger topping crisping your tongue at the last moment of departure
a moment; hush; large bed and three juice bottles struggling for attention overshadowed by a
small mountain of dirty laundry, still waiting, ignored this entire week
(chose to write little words down instead
that's what bathing suits are for anyway)
they get you through until
the night of the week
some call "thunder
day" i choose to
call it laundry
day
3 o'clock witching hour
i take issue with this red velvet cupcake half.
it is neither red, nor velvety, enough.
contentment must be found, alas, in just my plain cup of black tea.
finally; quarter past three.
it is neither red, nor velvety, enough.
contentment must be found, alas, in just my plain cup of black tea.
finally; quarter past three.
Wednesday, March 18, 2015
a-stigma-tism
apparently, according to one of the emily's (of which there are many...her true identity i choose not to reveal at this time, but if you wait a week and tell me the magic passcode user key, perhaps i'll change my mind)
well where was i?
apparently, oh right yes! a parent lee, once told me that the A Stigma in my right and left eyeballs somehow contribute to the drying of them, for the lenses by whose contact my vision fully is restored must just-so thick be, this A-Stigma whose tism corrected perhaps once was, but
...but, but cloudiness and blockage barrs me from continuing, for my lense appears to have been perturbed by a pesky provocation pooling neath the lids, twixt the eye and lense whose - right o! - increased thickness more quickly dries the eye socket.
my constant tip-tap-teepering of the keys and jabbing of the knees distracts from the dry-ness, till poof! Thar she blows, my sight is gone, a cloud, a plane absorbed, a girl, sitting alone with her purple headphones
playing coltrane, and sighing.
well where was i?
apparently, oh right yes! a parent lee, once told me that the A Stigma in my right and left eyeballs somehow contribute to the drying of them, for the lenses by whose contact my vision fully is restored must just-so thick be, this A-Stigma whose tism corrected perhaps once was, but
...but, but cloudiness and blockage barrs me from continuing, for my lense appears to have been perturbed by a pesky provocation pooling neath the lids, twixt the eye and lense whose - right o! - increased thickness more quickly dries the eye socket.
my constant tip-tap-teepering of the keys and jabbing of the knees distracts from the dry-ness, till poof! Thar she blows, my sight is gone, a cloud, a plane absorbed, a girl, sitting alone with her purple headphones
playing coltrane, and sighing.
the great five
It dawned on me earlier today, in the midst of a conversation with a co-worker about my travel plans, that I ever never swum in any of the Great Lakes.
For any other New Englander, this would be normal. No big deal. The United States is a big place, and the Great Lakes are pretty cold if you're looking for places to swim. But --- I've spent part of every summer since the age of 3 months old going to Michigan and driving right by some of these lakes.
The not-as-great-but-still-super-swell lake that would be my destination was always too sparkly and wonderful and enticing to permit any ideas of visiting other lakes, once I finished the 16-19 hour drive to get myself there. Once I did the drive with a puppy, without stopping. That's dedication.
But, this summer is different.
This summer, I'll have just turned 25. I'll have resigned from my first *big-girl* job (yes, this is official, public information, not to worry, dear readers) and this summer, I'll be a moving target, waiting to hear and figure out where I'll end up come autumn leaves-time.
The actual physical journey-route I'll take to get to the cottage this year is still to-be-determined. As my course redirects to possibly include a trip to Colorado to take part in what sounds like an epic combination of music and neurological discovery (check out more details here) I'm toying with the idea of a little road trip. If that were to happen, I guess, I might just have to stop in all of the Great Lakes along the way. Take a small dip.
25 is a great age to turn. Why not start the year off right, with a little baptism by road-trip, and insanely cold, clear water?
For any other New Englander, this would be normal. No big deal. The United States is a big place, and the Great Lakes are pretty cold if you're looking for places to swim. But --- I've spent part of every summer since the age of 3 months old going to Michigan and driving right by some of these lakes.
The not-as-great-but-still-super-swell lake that would be my destination was always too sparkly and wonderful and enticing to permit any ideas of visiting other lakes, once I finished the 16-19 hour drive to get myself there. Once I did the drive with a puppy, without stopping. That's dedication.
But, this summer is different.
This summer, I'll have just turned 25. I'll have resigned from my first *big-girl* job (yes, this is official, public information, not to worry, dear readers) and this summer, I'll be a moving target, waiting to hear and figure out where I'll end up come autumn leaves-time.
The actual physical journey-route I'll take to get to the cottage this year is still to-be-determined. As my course redirects to possibly include a trip to Colorado to take part in what sounds like an epic combination of music and neurological discovery (check out more details here) I'm toying with the idea of a little road trip. If that were to happen, I guess, I might just have to stop in all of the Great Lakes along the way. Take a small dip.
25 is a great age to turn. Why not start the year off right, with a little baptism by road-trip, and insanely cold, clear water?
Thursday, March 12, 2015
a thursday late afternoon
Your bleary
Weary dreary teary
Dearie.
Please
Hold me fold me
Mold me
My little brittle
Heart (light pulsing slow now
No flashes not brilliant
Soft and low)
Please
still, sighing
my dearie-o-bleary-eyed
Dreaming you.
(my heart will ponder;
Grows fonder)
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