Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Backed Into a Corner/Expect

Shooting stars
Synchronized sighs
All we do is take turns backing each other into corners

Sweetness flows from his mouth like honey
I can't tell if what I'm hearing is a dream or not
And this really is all too familiar

But "Let's just be friends" like dawn crashing the cosmos' party ruins it all, you fool

By not wanting to lose me, you're going to get lost
By not wanting to hurt me, we're only going to get hurt

I can wait, undecided butterfly
I will perfect my skills at catching
I will check my net for gaps
I will be here
And you will always be fluttering in the background


The only thing you
can expect is to expect
the unexpected

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

The Gale

This rainstorm looks like a gale
And I am on the deck of my ship
staring out into all of the greyness
but I remain dry on my covered front porch
taking in the anger of the town
There is a hint of drug use in this town
Wondering what the purpose behind "laying on the horn" is
Remembering how I once succumbed to its nonsense in a near-death experience
a careless driver caused me once
A couple starts fighting in the parking lot
of the convenience store across the street
just to prove my point
I start thinking about walking around with my childhood friends in the rain
I had a fear of manhole covers
I never walked over them
Sewers, we called them
"Why?" One of them asked
He always thought he was so smart
I said, shyly and awkwardly,
"Well, I uh-heard there was electricity down there..."
"There's just water! Water and electricity don't mix! The whole world would blow up!"
I accepted it
Now, at 27 I stare at the power lines dripping with water...
The world was slowly blowing up
Maybe there was electricity running beneath us
and not quite enough water to put out our own fires
That's why I prefer to keep my ship docked these days
Safe in the harbor
For sea-worthy, I am not

Saturday, August 21, 2010

Take the Red Pill

It's a meat puppet game/they're playing/with my head/my brain/my feelings/but I must not surrender my soul/Horse pills/red pills/don't forget to take your pills/don't hurt yourself/Do you feel like hurting yourself?/Any side effects?Dizziness/nausea /inducing while ingesting/My hands shaking/I'm not eating/My clothes aren't fitting/ "I'm not trying to say you're fat but...you're definitely not skinny anymore"/eat more this/don't eat that/forget what I just said because things have changed/take more blood/blow more veins/Does it hurt?/This might hurt/Tell me if it hurts/Lost/Brave/ Strong but fading/candle wick burning low/it's almost dawn/where has sleep gone?/I think this may be a vicious nightmare/a torturous punishment for an old crime/but it is not/It's too real/Just too real

Friday, August 20, 2010

All the Wrong Places

Waiting in the wings
Or in the back of the show
A different color each time
on her toes

Smoking cheap cigarettes
Or bumming classy brands
A different bar every time
but still the same old bands

Winking at the bartenders
Or making out in bathroom stalls
Noticing how clever this time
the graffiti is on the walls

Stumbling out before last call
Or early to bed some drone
Still thinking all the time
how she truly is alone

Wednesday, August 18, 2010


don't fall into the old traps
keep your hopes focused on those couples
the ones who hold hands in their sleep,
in the park, or secretly under a table at

don't drown your tears in tequila
remember you are a goddess
worthy of appreciation
and that you know how to honor gods
with the same devotion and with great

don't walk too far off of that edge
just peer over occasionally
to remind you
that once you leap you can never come
back; he will be there to hold you back

Monday, August 16, 2010

Twist of Fates

Dear twist of fates,
Take hold of my fragile (but not too fragile) being
guide it towards the path of being
not thinking of what I want to be
where I want to go
what I want to do
but just to be
whatever it is I am to be

Dear twist of fates,
Do not allow those kisses from last night
that still linger all over me
become bleeding wounds that take
way too long to heal

Dear twist of fates,
Forbid me to look upon him
whether in jealousy or envy
madness and anger
nor in unreciprocated adoration
But allow only in wonder and amazement
be my gazes

Sweet twist of fates,
I surrender
I surrender
Fearful and trembling,
I surrender

Saturday, August 14, 2010

Wish You Were Here

I think I know why my old friend used to flip out so much.
He was a big Lou Reed fan.
I remember one night at Hudson Beach in particular.
On the ride over he got upset over the lyrics to Journey's "Don't Stop Believin'".
"Lies. All lies. Working to get their fill...that's not true. Everyone wants the thrill for free."
I sighed, knowing it would be one of those nights and focused on the road ahead and the stars above me at the same time.
It was clear out for once and not too hot.
I was wearing a light sweater and I knew the sound of some waves would be inspiring.
There is something terribly dangerous about the creatives roaming around at nightfall.
Especially at beautiful places like a beach.
My friend and I were would-be poets.
I chose spiral notebooks as my easel to scrawl my finger-paint project prose.
He chose coffee shop napkins and margins of philosophy and "Great Quote" collection books to compose couplets.
Or observations of wherever he was at.

He told me a story once about how he and a conspiracy theorist friend of his spent an evening flicking off satellites.
Paranoia was a personality trait of my friend.
You either dealt with it or you didn't.
And it never got too out of hand.

Well, occasionally.
Hence, this story.
It's hard for me to listen to my male friends complain about loneliness.
One of three things are destined to happen.
I think, "Well, I'm single too..." (If that be true.) "So...what if we were to date?"
A dozen reasons on why that's such a bad idea then quickly crush that.
The other scenario would be that he is the one with the thought and then there's the awkwardness of the moment before someone/both decides to do something or nothing and pray for non rejection.
On this night I just felt bad.
That's what happens thirdly.
Usually if I know they're a good guy and could probably find someone.
I believe there is someone for everyone out there.
Maybe multiples.
I give the stale advice, "You'll find her eventually."
He starts to go on a tirade about women then and what they do and previous life stories of how they've tempted him and tore him to pieces.
Some of what he spouted off made me cringe.
Then he asks me if I've heard much of Lou Reed.
"I don't believe so, no." I said. I had heard some. Not enough to recognize but I wanted him to switch topics.
"Harry's circumcision," he said staring off distantly over the gulf.
"Excuse me?" I coughed hiding the chuckle that wanted to escape.
"There's a song called 'Harry's Circumcision...listen to it. You'll understand what I mean."
"Well," I inquired. "What's it about?"
I asked for another sandstorm that I didn't expect.
This time his voice grew louder as he explained to me, in despair, how unfair it was that he was robbed of a piece of his manhood and that they (whoever they were) were still allowed to do this and how awful it was and he had no choice in the matter.
How I was supposed to understand that, I didn't know so I tried the soothing approach.
"Hey, hey man...it's cool," was all I could offer.
He seemed to get frustrated and after a moment screamed out to the stars, "I WANT IT BAAAAAACKKK!"
I shushed him quietly and before I could even figure out what was happening he was off and running.
Where he was going, I don't know but my instincts told me to follow.
I'm short. I can't run very fast but I was doing a good job of keeping up.
I kept screaming his name but he wasn't stopping.
We didn't run for long.
Not even halfway across the small beach but the both of us were gasping for air.
The cool winds whipped my hair around my face as we were closer to the water now.
The waves crashed onto shore forcing us to scream now.
"What is wrong with you!?" My eyes had to be as wide as the sky.
"I'm sorry!"
"You freaked out on me, man!"
"I know! I know! I'm sorry!"
He motioned for me to follow him back to the car.
"You alright?" I asked before we got in.
"Yeah. Thanks for the ride to the beach. I feel better now."
"Really?" I didn't know whether to believe him or not.
He was shuffling around his backpack.
The one he's always carrying with him.
"Yeah, yeah. Sorry again." He patted my head and gave me the smile.
This middle aged man with his acid torn brain who still had the sparkle of naivety and innocence in his eyes was patting my head in reassurance and I felt like I needed to lead him by the hand straight to someone who could take better care of him than I could because I was his terrible, terrible mother even though I was much younger.
It seemed backwards.
"Here, put this on. Please."
He handed me a CD.
I popped it in asking "What is it?"
"Lou Reed. I think you'll love it..."

(for my dear friend Nick, wherever you are)

Friday, August 13, 2010

"Yeah, we've all got problems..."

Vagina Problems

When my girl friend visits
We talk about how silly everyone is
Sometimes we realize how silly we are
Vagina problems
Marriage, babies, death
We can't tell which one we want to avoid the most
And we laugh because maybe these three instances feel the same
It is laughter that saves us
The mischievous giggling wafting into the night
Like witches we cackle to the open-minded moon
Casting love spells so that she may deliver perfectly our messages
to those men who don't seem to exist
We know that love and security just aren't enough
For we see the magic in between

(Inspired by Meg)


I act uninterested
when your name
comes up
I turn my head
to hide whatever
shadow may
have fallen
on my face

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Poetry Group

On a sticky night in August I checked out this poetry reading at a local coffeehouse
There was this one girl with a lot of dangly fake silver bracelets and a fake smile to match
with a binder full of rhyming poems about how much she loved her boyfriend, how sad it was
when they broke up and how the rain made her feel both happy and sad
All of the pages were so bright and cheerful or dark and grey depending on the topic
There was a middle aged woman who wrote little stories for her children with quirky
characters with drawings to match
Her voice was whimsical and brought a laugh to my heart
There were two old men with old notebooks and a separate pair of prescription glasses
for reading
One told us about his life, his wife and the search for a truth he believe no longer existed
The other about birds, and nothing more
A gentleman around my age carried a leatherbound journal and was trying too hard to be
Charles Bukowski
A girl barely 18 to his left with too much eyeliner told us she wanted to kill herself every day
but that she was so afraid of everything and that scared her the most
There were odes and sonnets and rhyming and no rhyming and free flow verse and haiku
with a little bit of banter in between to make it all go down smoother
It was my turn
I had nothing
No notebook, journal or binder could contain what I would have to say
There is not enough paper in the world upon which to fill my thoughts
Most importantly, there was not enough courage in the world to be given to me
to share as these have
My silence was my pledge for mercy
My listening eyes as they read was establishing my role there
But no one noticed
And walking back out into the sticky night I felt a cool, refreshing breeze of relief

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

The Same

Oh, but that my voice would fall upon ears that not only listened
but reverberated with joy and ecstasy like that of a man struck deaf
by the last soothing symphony he ever heard in his life
That my lips be devoured like a last meal
That my breath be taken and never given back
Oh, how my body longs to align like stars with another's
How my eyes wish they held something memorable
and worth seeing
Yet I am closed out
Laughed at
Or an object
Every story ends the same

Oh, That Reminds Me

There is nothing I like better than being high and listening to good music and playing with a piece of string you have randomly sitting on your desk/It reminds me of how I'm almost finished reading the book "Cat's Cradle" by that Vonnegut fellow that I started three years ago/I want to pick it up again but even those few pages in that one particular book are too much right now/I don't know what day it is and that reminds me of the time I went to Vegas and because there were no windows in any casinos you never knew if the world even existed outside of the walls of the buildings anymore/That reminds me of how I haven't left the house in a good while and I'm not too sure anyone's noticed/That reminds me that I've been thinking a lot about why I'm still here/That reminds me that I am still here and that I have a life to live even if I'm not sure if I know what it's really "all about"/That reminds me that it annoys me when people think they know what everything is "all about"/I will never be "all about" it/The next song plays and I am reminded of that one time I was stoned and sitting in my room, listening to good music and wondering where that string came from.

Tea and a haiku

There are no playground
words for you: no innocent
insults in your game

The Last I Heard

The last I heard from him was a click
Not a sharp one, mind you
A soft delicate pin-prick
dead center
that slowly bleeds me dry
He is an eyelash forever stuck in my pupil
Blinding my view and causing me to tear
But the raindrops are wasted for he
doesn't deserve a one of them
This place, this space, his half-smiling face
I kick and scream at it in despair
Night crawls, stars fall
And I wish on none
For I am so very done

Monday, August 9, 2010

It starts out slowly
like the drizzle
before a big storm
the kind with the
flashing of lights
so bright
they're blinding
and the booms of thunder
so deafening
you think your heart
may stop.
Suddenly it's a windstorm
of emotions and
preconceived notions
and I feel trapped
by your eyes and
in your arms.
To escape could mean
that I'm once again
running away
from all that is good.
Or it could mean
that I am dodging
a future bullet that
this time I may
not survive.
I walk a tight rope
swaying this way
and that.
This way is fearful
and trembling
and makes me
cry and unable
to breathe.
I fall that way
I fall in
and get the rush
of jumping, diving, rushing
completely in
And what am I afraid of?
I don't know

Sunday, August 8, 2010


I do my best not
to complain
and I don't feign
pain just to
gain anything
from you.

Saturday, August 7, 2010

From last night

my nails looked like shit
but I liked them that way
all trashy-lookin' and chipped
I was picking at them
when I noticed you
out of the corner of my eye
watching me
yet keeping safe distance
I settle my heart
straw stirring
your lips hardly ever form smiles
next to you I am so small
a bit of ash on the floor below you
and even if you sweep me away
at least you'll have noticed me

Sunday, August 1, 2010


Get it?

Like "emo mode"?

I think it's funny.

So, I've been thinking a lot today.

Crying a lot today.

Journaling a lot today.

I don't publicize details anymore.

I stopped that back when I quit Blurty.

And even on the Windwood and other Myspace blogs I never gave too much away.

No one really cares about what dramas you got going on anyway.

I know I typically don't care unless they're a close friend of mine and it's something really serious.

Then again, even the not so serious stuff ("this guy/girl did this to me" "she/he said this, can you believe it?") I'll still lend an ear for and offer a bit of advice if I can.

Usually it involves something along the lines of: It sucks. I know. But it'll pass. Trust me.

Ahh, advice.

It's so easy to give but so hard to take.

I've been hearing it all day.

"It'll pass."

"It's ok."

"Aww, don't be upset."

Maybe it won't pass?

No, it's not ok.

And I'm upset.

I have a pretty good reason.

And I would advise anyone else to get out whatever they need to get out (safely) however they need to get it out.

For me, it's tears.

I'm killing trees today, ladies and gentlemen.

This box has a huge dent.

I'm noticing discussions on Facebook and the real world. (Yes, there still IS one!)

"Where are all the nice girls/guys?"

"I'm tired of games...etc."

*insert song lyric or status update that's totally aimed at YOU...yeah YOU*

(You know that passive aggressive stuff that the majority of us do just to see if the other person notices so that they know EXACTLY how you feel....yeah? *raises hand* Guilty.)

Lately I've been depressed by all of this because of situations in my life.

I am no longer with my boyfriend, Mike, anymore.

Everyone knows by now.

We have reasons.

We're best friends and it's not changing.

He's still the greatest guy ever even if he's not the greatest guy for me.

I feel guilty a lot.

I know I shouldn't.

He takes care of me....he picks me up off of the floor when I have seizures....he sits with me while I vomit....all that nasty "being sick" stuff that I go through on an almost daily basis, he's right there.

And I will forever be thankful and will never be able to repay him for as long as a live.

But the thing about Mike is...he doesn't WANT payment.

But anyways...I'm digressing.

Mike is just awesome.

You should all know.


Depressing things:

1. I have a tendency to want what I can't have
2. I feel my sickness gets in the way of personal relationships and I really doubt I will ever find someone again
3. I feel I was played recently
4. I feel a friendship I value is ruined

(1,3 and 4 are related)

But the most depressing thing of all, probably, is that I constantly see "all the lonely people" complaining and saying terrible things about the opposite sex assuming that "they're all the same."

Situations may be the same.

What just happened to me recently is so close to soo many scenarios that have happened in the past but the only constant in them is me.

So, it must be me, right?

I can't figure out what it is though.

I don't want to be egotistical...but I think I'm pretty great.

I love myself. :)

I think that everyone should.

(Love themselves that is...loving me is awesome too...makes me sad when people don't like me...especially when they have no reason...but...that's another post.)

After I found out how serious my medical situation was and how things would change for me one of the decisions I made was that I would not get into a relationship ever again.

I didn't want to put someone through that.

I didn't want to tell a guy I met..."So, yeah...I can't drive, I'm in constant pain so sex is going to be pretty non existent, I'll seize out sporadically and I often drool on myself during that process...I can't have children, oh and yeah I kinda don't even have a job or a home anymore."

See what I mean?

The biggest thing is the child factor.

I'm not sure if I medically can or not.

I know I wouldn't.

My insides couldn't handle something else floating around in there.

PKD pregnancies have a high risk for complications for mother and child...plus that whole possibility of passing this horrid disease onto a child (a coin flip) just doesn't sit well with me. So, it's a choice.

Adoption? Sounds great, potential future life partner.

But you'll be able to run around and pick them up and take care of them too, right?

See what I mean?

Guys don't want to admit it, but the majority of them want a family someday.

The white picket fence and nice wife to cook and clean.

The whole bloody shebang.

And at a time in my life I wanted that more than you could possibly know.

But it won't happen.

And that sucks.


I think the whole point of this was to just vent about how no matter how things go and who's meant to be with who and who's not the one thing I hold onto is hope.

Hope for everything.

That maybe someday there will be a guy who fits my bill and doesn't care about my situation.

That I'll get over the recent heartbreak in my life.

That they'll find a damn cure for this stuff.

And most of all, the hope that tomorrow will be there to enjoy.

I think about dipping out on this ride a lot.

But, nah.

The things I'd miss I value.



Good music.

Chair dancing.


Plus, who's blog would you read?


Alright, I'm out.

In closing, I'd like to say that not all girls are the same just like all guys aren't the same.

Take chances.

No fear.

Follow your heart.

And all that jazz.

Oh, and when in doubt, just cry it out!

(It works for me.)