positively absolutely

Listening to The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars, on vinyl, sipping from a glass full of vodka and seltzer, folding laundry, baking a pumpkin cheesecake, gorging on green curry with shrimp take-out, my mind on exes and where we all went wrong, wanting a chocolate milkshake, watching some shadow float across the ceiling, communing with the ghost of death in my house, slipping into sweet sleep to dream about the dead and wake to still be living.

Five years, Mr. Bowie  

And I thought of Ma, And I wanted to get back there, your face, your race, the way that you talk, I kiss you, you're beautiful, I want you to walk, 

Seems I'm always in a mood to jot things down on Sunday nights.  Yeeeeaaaah.  Sunday nights are when I categorize my upcoming week into things to be accomplished, things to bunk off, time to waste, time to not waste....bills to pay, bills to not pay

stuck to my eyes, five years

what a surprise

we've got five years, my brain hurts a lot

five years, that's all we've got, we've got five years

one month has disappeared into a new season.

Seasons affect me differently, time marked, denigrated in a whole new way.  I don't enjoy this "new way" that I've developed.
I get into this periods where I just want to be that saxophone scream, to be my voice out there, the metallic screech so un-decipherable, so understandable.  
SCREAM into nothingness and hope that some echo returns to me that means something, anything.


All I have is my love of love...
and love is not loving

But really, I'm just waiting for a new person to thrill me to my fingertips, make things not boring, and all the men I know are B-O-R-I-N-G.  With their jobs and their fake little suburban lives, be different do something...just change your life.  I am also boring, but at least I own it.

freak out, far out, in out

Watched a soccer game today, and it's just pointless running around on a field, kicking a ball into what???  some goal??  to win?  Like football what the...?  But it's this euphemism for life, right?  The game.  Oh well, I guess I just don't want to be bothered by the bull shit.

Let all the children boogie

So rip open my heart again, do it. Make me think for once, why, don't I just do whatever the hell I want.  But I'm going too...I am.  


Well all the people have got their problems, that ain't nothing new with the help of the good Lord we can all pull through

Please, have my abortion.

I smiled sadly for a love I could not obey

I'm thinking about your tight pants life, how I make them tighter.  Walk, tightrope walking, carnivals, circus, open eyes, massive elephants hitting the ceiling...representatives.

I could fall asleep at night as a rock and roll star, I could fall in love all right as a rock and roll star

Right, so who's going to understand this BS?  I certainly do NOT.  Royalties, jokes, writing about sex, not getting sex, creepy old men, watching young girls without a clue.  They called out to me once, thank god I'm smarter than that. 


Well, she's a tongue twisting storm

 I enjoy the storm, causing a twist with my tongue, people don't know what to think.  Offend me.  Tell me how awful I have become.  Because I don't give a damn.  

Ziggy played guitar

Doesn't everybody?


 Ohh, wham bam thank you ma'm

Oh boy, do I need to say that to be a real non-pinocchio man? Make sense though of what others think each day, holy shit have I become redundant?  I meant to offend. Be honest.  Truth is all that matters.  Pull away that band-aid on the trophy kids and white fenced manicured lawns, be naked and unafraid.  



Oh no love! you're not alone
You're watching yourself but you're too unfair
You got your head all tangled up but if I could only make you care
Oh no love! you're not alone
No matter what or who you've been
No matter when or where you've seen
All the knives seem to lacerate your brain
I've had my share, I'll help you with the pain

You're not alone 

Just turn on with me and you're not alone 
Let's turn on with me and you're not alone
Let's turn on and be not alone



I have given up on love and I don't know if that just makes me sad or what.

K. West does not equal Quest.  

Gimme your hands cause you're wonderful 
Oh gimme your hands.

Alright

Thought I'd give you my...life.
To take and hold til death, we go wrong, but You're the posion that runs, the sting, creeping insecto bite the web of, sink those rotten teeth in until the pleasure pulses through my thighs.

So, here. we. be. 

Wanting. Hiding from a piece of peace?
a lover of all we, don't you know
you tore me apart, tearing me still. this shit, this fuck
this fucked. 
        Up. 
                    Shit.

Taunt me, haunt me, oh spectre
erected ghost, come and
fuck me in the night half sleeping 'til we are
good, spent apes for each other. Those other
bites. Grand ole home, in the hole other place brighten
the blight of this be-speckled soul.

When you're in it, you don't know you are, until you're not. If you think you
are then no, I say.

You stalking vicious prowler, our

love is just fucked.

Poem

Here is a poem I wrote back in July 2013, I'm still working on it but I just felt like sharing.

BROKEN 

I break slow, break in, break apart ,wave on

sand, summer full of our sweat, Bach

swell of cello my longing, numbed and real.

I’m living in a bed, an overgrown garden,

some accidental tomato plant in the

weeds with prickers, sting my skin make me bleed .

Look out your window and up, we’re dying and you know it,

salt stains my clothes and this box I’ve created, unfolding.

They sent me flowers to make me smile, but they suffocated and died. Yellow

flowers on the windowsill, sucking air, and just some daisies, I’ve never planted

we’re drying up, smiling, smothered in the heat of the sun

this lead, my lungs, your breath, she flew away , some burst cocoon,

My head,these words, as if someone might read my mind

and judge it for, lack of originality or proper form or some other

bullshit. I don’t even know what is what, anymore.

Look at these animals,

accepting loss, accepting life, in a way

I can never grasp. Falling back onto some green grass pier of

sound, embracing nothing, empty, aching silent seasons.

I have no baby to hold and I’m not sorry.

Let me sit back , read some Keats, just a little Coleridge and Frost,

let it pour from my fingertips

love is all, all is love.

Pulling words

out of heads onto the page broader, expanding. how your lungs

 stole your breaths.

Red zinnias on a table for you, crawling with spiders, some

divine statement on the status of living. 

See that pool of sunlight, let me be absorbed

into it and live and stay.  See the leaves

crisp bent-ending, let me be a leaf.

I entered your world on a Thursday, so

on a Thursday you left mine. Storm outside

storm within. We waited with candles, at

the ready, for the dark.

I don’t know.

Tried to call you one day, but you’re slipping away,

the physical presence, haunted absence,

though you’re sitting in a papier mache

urn on my desk, next to books, haphazard,

stacked high. Did I say goodbye?

No one grows up perfect, no one grows up whole.

We’re raw inside just some meat on bones we flow

and are gone. I read the word cancer everywhere.

She knows. Wherever she is now, in the

ether of the unseen above me or

below, god, I hope she knows. Does she see

me and say, “look at my daughter, all

her dreams will come true.”

Don't Be Shy, Chill Out With Some Cat

Stevens....

This song is from Harold and Maude soundtrack, which is one of my favorite movies. 

So read what I've gotta say and listen to some Cat Stevens.

  Emergency room curtains guided close around, you stretched out, crying for water.

Then they came for you and I needed a walk, so in the raw of the early Spring, April and I went up the hill past the old brick building.  And I walked by with a longing in my heart and that was the night, the night I really knew it was one of the last nights.  Onto a street I once called mine, I wanted to walk up those stairs again. I watched the lights on the street, the swift traffic sound, the stillness. My chapped hands, chilled feet and hot cheeks found some swings.  I wished my legs could take me over the rooftops, some Peter Pan in the sky. 

I wanted to stay with you.  That was the first break. Our heart rhythms changed, I left a piece of mine on the cold seat of that swing.

The night of cosmic consciousness...
See that pool of sunlight, let me be absorbed into it and live and stay.
See the leaves crisp bent-ending, let me be a leaf.
Death is not real, the unreality frees her from sorrow.
What will free me.

So don't be shy just let your feelings roll on by....