Saturday, 14 July 2012

kids down the hall

we threw up on the world
and danced in spit
we burned so brightly
the gods took notice
of course they did
our shoes were killer

there was a moment 
we were legend
strutting down sunset blvd
paper crowns clad in gold 
laid waste by convention
I never said goodbye

(for scotty)

Friday, 29 June 2012

The Plan


So, I am going to write a plan, like yes right now, right now I am writing this plan.

Enter dog: Dog interrupts the plan. He has poop on his butt. Dog scoots about on the Turkish carpet (That I lugged through three airports and 25 hours of flight time on my lap) with the most stupid but gratifying look on his face (I think the expression is shit eating grin) I scream “HEY! What the fuck!” Plan on hold while I liberate the poop from said dogs ass. 

Minor set back, begin again to start to writing “the plan”.

Enter instant FB message: I find this amusing and distracting. Yes, a break from my own angst and on to fixing other peoples problems while I procrastinate on fixing my own. Don’t they know I am working on a plan? My friends are so self absorbed, no, wait, that’s me. My friend just wrote how she is using her “tools” and reaching out to her friends to make it through yet another personal disaster. If her phone was blowing up as much as her life she would be the queen of fucking everything. I am so glad I am one of her tools, that’s me I am just a big fucking tool that you reach for when in need. I sit in a box somewhere in a basement where it is dark and dank, waiting, just salivating to be released, to be of use, to do my job and fix something for Christ sakes. After an hour of so of my sage advise she feels better, she will live another day, she has run out of wine. She puts me back into the box and off she goes back into the matrix to find another tool and more wine. 

Major set back, but I forge on to the plan. 
(Note to self: sign out of FB, really it’s beneath you)

Back to starting to write this plan? ? ? ? Is anyone out there? I sit staring at the screen. Nothing. I reach into a drawer in the back of my mind and pull out a note. Ah! Maybe a way forward, some hope of salvation, or a tidbit of an idea to prove I am not a total waste of molecules bashing into each other. 

Note: Gone fishing, come back later, no, just fuck off.

Maybe tea will help, going to make some tea NOW!

Back with tea - back to starting to write this plan.

Title: This plan will solve all of your problems and fix the hole in your heart.

“When did the hole start?” 

There will be questions? No one told me there would be questions, No one told me there would be questions, No one told me there would be questions. Fuck.

It was pulled little threads at a time, it unraveled, trying to fix the mistakes in my knitting. Ripping out the work, loosing my way and knitting back the very same mistakes that were there before. Shit, shit, shit! In exasperation I ripped it all apart and left it there. A big fat hole in my heart.

How to accept your flaws 101: 

There is something artful, meaningful, haunting, and worthwhile deep inside you. Release it without regret. You are a child of the universe be brave, bold, happy, and hungry. You are a beautiful experiment of tissue and memory, bleed all over the world and leave it there. 

How is this a plan I ask you?

I need more tea. Tea led to the aching garden outside, I pulled some weeds in the dark and it felt oddly liberating. 

Back to the plan.

Does this plan include art - yes.

Why? - it feels right? (more questions? I am so done with the questions).

Does anything else feel this right - no.

Fuck. 

I    am    going    to    be    poor.

Fuck.

O.K. I am over that.


Enter cat: Cat jumps up on my desk and walks back and forth, looking smug and disappointed in me. She also has poop on her butt. 

Most days my life is shit on an animals ass, but I am a useful tool.

So glad I cleared that up. 






Wednesday, 20 June 2012

lost in space


If I am lost in space
please call me home to dinner
I desperately want to hear
to hang on every morsel
that slips between your lips
and let your saliva drip
down my throat like honey
into that cavern that is void.

As I float along the kitchen ceiling 
I see you, I see me
and the smoke that arises from you 
dissipates as steam into the air
and that atmosphere called space
is as still and as silent
as walls of snow
silent and empty between us.



Monday, 4 June 2012

two dogs

dog one: it might be nice to be human.
dog two: it would be horrible to be human!

dog one: how so?
dog two: humans have a desease, its called the human condition and there is no cure.

dog one: kinda like herpes?
dog two: whats a herpe?

dog one: never mind, so what's the human condition anyway?
dog two: it's complicated.

dog one: what is?
dog two: the human condition.

dog one: and?
dog two: there is no more, it's just complicated.

dog one: how do you catch it?
dog two: every human is born with it.

dog one: can I catch it?
dog two: no, you silly, us dogs we live in the moment.

dog one: so what are the symptoms?
dog two: doubt, anxiety, guilt, and an overwhelming sense of worthlessness.

dog one: I have no idea what those things are.
dog two: exactly.

dog one: poor buggers
dog two: yeah, they do try to minimize the damage.

dog one: how so?
dog two: they created philosophy, theology, sociology, the mall, and someone named Oprah.

dog one: seems to me they like to think a lot about themselves.
dog two: it's pretty much a full time job.

dog one: maybe thats why cesar millan is such a jerk.
dog two: exactly! humans get all kinds of excited when he controls us. shit, I can control a herd of sheep with my eyes... cesar millan my ass.

dog one: soooo, what's on the agenda for today?
dog two: hmmmm, kinda thought about licking the spot where my balls used to be, as for the rest of it, I make it up as I go along.

dog one: exactly.







Saturday, 2 June 2012

broken

I want to kiss your tangled wing
take it from under your chin and iron it out
let the feathers fall into place
and find you beautiful

you make me afraid
of the worst parts of me
of breaking the rules
of reaching out
of catching your ugly

I want to remold your face
sculpt your skin into magnificent
close your chameleon eyes
so you can be seen again

you make me ashamed
of my thoughtlessness
of my fragility
of my selfish nature
of being the next in line to catch your desease

I want to inhabit you
rebuild your frame from the inside out
one bone at a time, windows and all
until you resemble the Segrada Familia


and then I will pray
that we saw each other
and that you knew
you are everything light and brave
and I will worship inside your broken house
forever.