Is it

Friday yet?

a.d.o.r.e.

I dreamed this once
I dreamed you
Or a version of you
I dreamed of perfect timing
And honest words
And warm embraces and passionate kisses
I dreamed this once
I dreamed a place
A place someone would see the parts of myself
That I couldnt always
Wouldnt always
A place safe secret and shared
A common place
I swear I dreamed this once
I dreamed a time of only moments
A time of strung together memories
The good ones you go back to
I dreamed them streamline
I did
I dreamed this once
I
Dreamed
This once
And looking forward towards a dream is so much different then looking back to one
And looking out of it is scary because the rules you have are not your own but different ones
And looking at the words you send sends such feeling throughout all of me
And looking at you means you’re close enough to touch and i’m there and thats all
I dreamed this once
I swear I did
I swear I dreamed this once
Dont - wake - up

tummy flutter-bys

a scrap... with a stolen line

when a heart sings
upon the wings
of 'fumes of lovers sighs'
it also beats
peering at great feats
as such the look within his eyes

-----

if time were my mistress
and and i could instruct her every movement
i would cause her to fly
cause her to fly with all swiftness between each time
i could kiss you
so that weeks would seem no more than hours
and hours like minutes themselves
but no so fast a seconds
for though i lust and long
and with time 'neath my reign
could do away with any unpleasantness of length
and serve to lengthen each time you brush the hair from my face
to reveal some coy expression of adoration and thanks
to all together do away with the spaces twixt the Divine moments
would soften their effect and belittle their pedestal
so if time were my mistress
i would cause her to fly
straight toward the nights
of just you and i

Three Tall Women

..is the play I am reading
written by Mr Edward Albee
and I am on page 27 of 110
and highly engrossed thus far

and I would like to share
a quote from the authors introduction

"And I know that my present self is shaped by as much self-self deception as anyone else's, that my objectivity's are guided by the maps I myself have drawn..
..Writers have the schizophrenic ability to both participate in their lives and, at the same time observe themselves participating in their lives"

Delightful!

::le sigh::

searing memory of lover's lips
still feeling them there
wishing they still were
each smoldering touch engrained
and replayed
and replayed

this acute memory, both blessing and curse
to long for the thing that was
and will be again
but to live and long and lookback

<3

to old loves
to love loves
to new loves

Happy Valentines Day, love .

a girl named Me

once upon a time
there lived a girl named Me
who prized herself on being
a very social bee
present at all parties
dancing night to noon
smiling, always smiling
and crazy as a loon
bee-girl's mad as a hatter
twice as colorful to boot
and sweeping through her life thus far
shes picked up lots of loot
her treasures, yes they tell us
of her adventures near and far
of her triumphs, joys and laughter
of her secrets and her scars
the very busy lady
a woman and a girl
making each day count
in this gorgeous, mixed up world

f

a
a
a
a
a
a
a
a
a
a
a
a
a
a
a
a
a
a
a
a
l
l
i
n
g
.

Oy..

its as if they were starring at me
as if everyone in that room was starring at me
each eye bore-ing into me
leaving indentaions in each part of me
parking their personal preconceptions all over me
alloting their analysis respectivly to every parcel
slice, sliver, segment
fragment, each element of my entity
each bit of me
excinded
dissevered
by the scrutinous ogling





...i hate it when my skirt's tucked into my tights

Epic Poem Teaser...

Im working on something
be teased
be very teased


..i love how i write like people will read
i guess its that internal light-bulb
that crazy optimist that i swallowed that one time
she just wont digest..

2-4-07

choose to indulge, do all things
run around, play on swings
sing those songs, dance that dance
eat too much, jump on beds
sleep naked and dont warn the people you live with
spend way to much money on gas making visits
take extra long showers
talk to your best friends for hours
sleep in all day, have a roll in the hay
read the same book three times
color outside the lines
each day for a week eat chocolate at dawn
everychance that you get, give a hug to your mom
tell your teddybear secrets
jump in puddles with new sneakers
and kiss 'neath the moon in the rain
-----

parchment paper holds your secrets.
secrets written by moon and candle-light.
secrets sealed with wax and rings and hidden away
from the light of day, these papers seem ordinary
in everyway, but one.
the penmanship, the slipp'ry style that encodes the work
will not give an inch; so unforgiving.
to steal away a phrase, a sweet sonnet
or any inkling into the soft secrets kept there
would be a most impossible undertaking.
your caligraphic ways have incarcerated all puzzles
so that none can come to the enlightenment
which is supposed upon the hidden papers.
'neath it all, hope lives that its not a fraud.
-----

this dame's got issues
shes got her fair share of stomped upon
her own personal helping of fet-up
and more bull-shit than she has storage space
this broad's got problems
she's been down that road before
so her views are skewed
but she's got cover-up to hide the scars
this doll's a mess
this skirt must confess
some where inside, she's a lady
-----

there is something wrong
something so desperately wrong
so terribly incredibly wrong that it enraptures thought
enraptures thought, creativity and all expendetures of time
of time, breath and energy of all kinds
maitaining sway, total authority of introspection and rumination
for a thing so unacertained to assert prolonged gross, totalitarian reign
engenders something akin to perpetual, eternal madness

2-2-07

'never has so dangerous a thing been so delightful'
lies, and she knew it
but she'd never been drawn to it before, to something she shouldnt
color inside the lines-wait your turn girl
smile politely-listen and learn girl
not this
NOT this
not waiting and wishing and hoping on things
things hidden and secret and scared
-----

cursed communication device
your ringing will be my end
for sanity's sake, the only hope
is for a time with space and peace
over and over again
merciless master you are
i know i dare not go far
your lament will follow me where're i am
-----

he sits in his study
away the weary hours fly
time flees,
her tell is the lowering of the the golden shadows on the wall
a need for incandescence arises
-----

what is it about the dulcet tone of a man's voice
that alluring resonance
the delectable, otherwise intoxicating bass
which causes conversing to become carnal
each utterance
inflection
articulation
illicits prurient predilections from my fleshy form
sensational response undulating through my abdomen
a sense of sudden...

i need to work on finishing things
some any way
i would especially wanna work on this last one

I looooooove....

Regina Spektor
..now theres a writer and fantasical musical poet

::le sigh::

..I, uh... have something to say?

karma is a bitch
and the balance of the universe pisses me off
because while all you hear about is harmony and unison
all you get is discord and strife
(gonads & strife, gonads & strife, gonads & strife...just me?)

anywho
i am a freaking lucky female
L-U-C-K-Y
I have a kick-ass family, not perfect, but kick ass
I have the GREATEST friends and social-whatever..
I know what I love in this world/want to do forever
Im not so dumb to know i wont have to work at/for it

-im blessed-

but im human
so i chose to take this moment to dwell on the have-not
cuz im just a little bit emo, way deep down inside
and frankly, blogs were made for this
MADE says i
goo.


ok....cop-out
im not that emo
i cant bitch about it
(it by the way is boys and all that they entangle)
and i want to share
but with people on the real
or rather, specific

so ACTUALLY
this is a cry for help
on a very 13-yr old level
ask me about my problems and pretend to care!
(we're such a culture of that)

and
thats it.
im done.
i swear.




oooh wait
and im a raging feminist.
and by that i mean
that im raging within myself
to find out exactly what that means.


real, for really-real end.

2-1-07

ensuing writing frenzy
take 2!
-----
scalding my mind
the memory of those silver stars
it was cold and there was only heat
maybe it wasnt so cold, as much as i was quivering
that feeling of uncontrolled electric energy
ripping through your body with abandon inside
but only a shiver without -- and still the stars
Orion's belt so clearly sparkling, only mocks me now
crystal winter sky, night sky, the north wind's sense of humor
winter sky, my favorite, now only teases an unfulfilled summer
-----
all i have at my disposal is a poor man's vocabulary
a cursory knowledge of things superior
i lack the strength to stand with the quill
my modern voice rings out as a sour note
comparison leads to discord
but i lust after elevated language
after the elevated pen and its master
analogy will lead to invalidation
and still the ubiquitous nature of the proprietor of the pen placates as much as arrests
how 'bout that
to write is to mirror with flourish and insight
to bestow upon the clay of colloquialism an idiosyncratic notch
-----
run her fingers over the pages
her own personal braille
ridges telling the story of her days
upon the shattered sheets of trees
colored poisons spin her adventures
-----
bruise
a beautiful bruise
cherry-red purple bruise
tender raw and perfect
broken and beautiful

1-31-07

a writing frenzy ensued, thanks/curses
to a boy we shall call...Phil, for that is his name
additionally goo.
-----
looking thru the window, rather
looking past it for the clearest view as clear as it can be for him right now
even if he gets past the window
to start his viewing fresh on the other side of the pane
the pain still taints it, all of it
shivering branch of birch
icy crunchy slush
raindrops rolling-down rubber
and every woman walking by
who still isnt
her.
-----
a thunder clap in the throat
gale force from the diaphragm
agape the violent-red aperture
he must have said something funny
-----
blue birds dont sing for this
but green grass will grow
she'll stay upon that kiss
and he'll never know
-----
just the manic scribblings of a half-genius girl in a zany mad-cap world who's trying to make her mark on the scratch-free surface of this world, with a tiny diamond ring and hope
-----
all she ever knew was simple chaos. and maybe thats why she couldnt let go. she didnt know how to be happy in a contented, TV movie, pearls & teddy bears kind of way. she knew how to be happy in the cracks. happy, is the space between the crazy. certainly everyone knows that. everyone in her world.. so what if there was no longer any crazy? what then would define happy? so she found herself ways to bring the crazy back from its mid season hiatus. why not be particularly cranky, rude, argumentative, sulky, snide, and miserable? 'cuz after all, whats the calm after the storm without that storm? this is the particular brand of reasoning that comes along with simple chaos.
-----
make believe and lets pretend
upon a world of my own wonders
and wonders and thinks shared only with the heart
by heart is meant hormones of course
coarse are the realities of my un-make believe
not so pleasant as our own intentions
and everyone knows autumn springs forth from summer's winter

Reincarnated Creations plus Something Fairly New

Friday Nite -- Fall 2001

Sleeping bodies lying quietly
soft, warm, comforting
sweet, truthful moments
beautiful, absolutely beautiful
i feel
waking in his arms
eyes, deeply, drowning
brown, black, boundless
quiet
stillness, silent, blinking
staring, hoping, wanted
know my thoughts, please know
your lips, my lips, glancing
the split second
you move, I'm there
meeting, joining, meeting, parting
sublime
smiling, breathing, tingling, butterflies
breath, smell, scent
solidify the memory
closer, pulled ever closer
thank you
touching, holding, being
wanted
push the covers from my face
beautiful, could you make me feel more beautiful
sweet, thoughtful
somehow it all goes right
smiling, lying in his arms, in his bed
close, comfortable, wonderful
blessed chance
sweet remembrance
knowing not the length of this
but now there is hope
if not for us
than for me
sublime hours
come again to me.

one of my very first big girl works
one of the few things that (though in different ways) i still like as much as when i wrote it
- - - - -

M.P.-- 2005

municipal parking.
or thats what it said
anyway.
iridescent tangerine paper sun,
pristine crumbled cotton ball high above the highway,
below cocoa crumbled
blueberry soda
orb.
municipal parking...
who could come down from a day like today
with a sign
so pedestrian.
municipal parking,
who knew.

i wrote this when was working at the diner
oh how things come to you in the strangest places
- - - - -

writer...

one day ill pretend to be a writer
for its a part i've yet to play (one of many)
i should think it would be fun, though arduous
for to play a writer is not to be one
and its is always fun to be something
someone
for sometime
because you know you can change back (hopefully)
and arduous, firstly because it is a vocabulary word
and secondly because of its meaning
and thirdly, because of the toil
the toil-ing with words
to sandwich them like a deli worker
to paint them like an undergraduate studio art major
to add them like high school math regents
to shape them like a glass-blower
to sing them like Paulo Nutini (le sigh)
one day i shall be a writer
even though its a part i've played
i play the part in secret
for when you are not labeled as a thing
you cannot be judged by it (hopefully)
so inside lives this 'writer'
who it would seem
is actually a critic, after all

What I'm Told

So apparently to be a writer
you have to share
your crap
and non crap
and other stuff too

Im not sure I am
Ive never really labeled myself as such
in fact, Ive often said
-yea, but Im not a writer-

There was a fantastic exchange of words about...6 years ago
Oh Harrison, you were.are wonderful

So I suppose this will be the new habit
with any luck of course