my life is a patchwork of pauses and pleasure, promises, painful plots and plots of people
my life is stuffed with thoughts of yesterday, today and tomorrow
half-beginnings, quick endings
run-ons sentenced to pages
crammed into neat little envelopes
these things i've said, but have not said.
my life is full of grainy images
sea salt plastered memories of when i was a baby
a pink and blue stripped swimsuit
when i was all mask and snorkel, fins and fables
when everything was as sweet as the first drop of fresh water on salted tongue
my life is a ceramic yellow elephant with blue poka dots
my life is mirror poses and stomach sucking-
in-
between the waves and shore
in sloppy water and floating sand
in disorientation and ignorant blissfulness
my life is color coded notebooks and chewed up markers
poptart wrappers and coffee stains
rugby matches and pine scented candles
thesis drafts and empty wine bottles
my life is ever-rolling ridges and green galloping glens
my life is now and my life is six hours ahead
my life is composed of dances i've botched
dances i've mastered
my life is crafted in words and glances
imagined romances,
places, traces of familar faces
and mistakes.
my life is long drafts, long drafts
my life is loud
my life is jamming
my life is complicated and simple
my life is
Monday, September 29, 2008
Friday, September 26, 2008
said the coffee pot to the tea pot
if you're going to drink a hot beverage in the morning, you better make it coffee. i don't want to see this tea drinking business. why? because it's a lie. a lie! a cunning skullduggery if i ever saw one. there is no way, NO WAY, that a pathetic, puny, pitiful bag of grass clippings is going to give you the kick you need to start your day. how do i know? i've seen handfuls of you hippie-Eastern chic-yuppie-do gooders trying to fool all those innocent souls thinking about quitting the best habit they've ever formed. i know you. you saunter into ahem, C-O-F-F-E-E shops and push up to the counter, then you spend forever picking out your fruity excuse for a beverage: "should i have the darjeeling orange spice, or the cranapple, or maybe the fresh picked lemon grass infused with violets and touch of get a freekin' life".
once you've decided on your lawn clippings, you get a special, individually packaged little bag that you then place in a cup of steaming hot water. and what a pretentious little bag it is with it's little square of paper fluttering in the wind beside your cup, a flag of your superiority. pressed between your fingers as you steep your tea, are the words of some Eastern master long-ago dead, who, had she/he been alive would have baulked at the insult of having her/his deepest thoughts commercialized and reprinted just so you could feel like you were in touch with the universal energy, that you had transcended above the anxious, caffeine junkies. maybe you'll put in some cream and honey to flavor your water, but regardless you will WAIT several minutes before taking your first sip. maybe it's too hot, or maybe you are practicing zen patience, either way you are making the rest of us look incredibally impatient and uptight. we grin at you through stained teeth, but what we really want is to tear you apart starting with that little flag dangling beside your cup.
you sip away on your hot water, i mean tea, and expect me to believe that you're ready to start your day? that's like going up to a car that won't start and whispering encouraging words to the engine, it's not going to work. you need jumper cables. you need something with caffeine and alot of it. you need to be able to get it and consume it quickly. you shouldn't have to spend the time thinking about what kind of coffee, you just take whatever the shop's got. this is america, you have places to go and things to do. you don't have time to sit and steep a tea bag, you need a main line right to your brain. coffee is like a high powered executive. it's sharp in its black suit, it's bold in taste and smell. you know when its around and it always leaves an impression, on your clothes, on your breath, on your teeth. coffee is good at what it does. tea is like the retarded cousin, a little light and leaving much to be desired.
once you've decided on your lawn clippings, you get a special, individually packaged little bag that you then place in a cup of steaming hot water. and what a pretentious little bag it is with it's little square of paper fluttering in the wind beside your cup, a flag of your superiority. pressed between your fingers as you steep your tea, are the words of some Eastern master long-ago dead, who, had she/he been alive would have baulked at the insult of having her/his deepest thoughts commercialized and reprinted just so you could feel like you were in touch with the universal energy, that you had transcended above the anxious, caffeine junkies. maybe you'll put in some cream and honey to flavor your water, but regardless you will WAIT several minutes before taking your first sip. maybe it's too hot, or maybe you are practicing zen patience, either way you are making the rest of us look incredibally impatient and uptight. we grin at you through stained teeth, but what we really want is to tear you apart starting with that little flag dangling beside your cup.
you sip away on your hot water, i mean tea, and expect me to believe that you're ready to start your day? that's like going up to a car that won't start and whispering encouraging words to the engine, it's not going to work. you need jumper cables. you need something with caffeine and alot of it. you need to be able to get it and consume it quickly. you shouldn't have to spend the time thinking about what kind of coffee, you just take whatever the shop's got. this is america, you have places to go and things to do. you don't have time to sit and steep a tea bag, you need a main line right to your brain. coffee is like a high powered executive. it's sharp in its black suit, it's bold in taste and smell. you know when its around and it always leaves an impression, on your clothes, on your breath, on your teeth. coffee is good at what it does. tea is like the retarded cousin, a little light and leaving much to be desired.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
the difference between here and there
here and there
the difference between here and there is geographical. it is the frigid, yet sensual liquid black depths, a flowing obsidian of the mysterious Atlantic. it is the wild-eyed azure blue, sharp tongued and crazed, a youthful beauty laughing in the face of her name: Pacific. it is limestone slick and the mating of rocks in the beds of rivers. it is incandescant orange and red magma flowing like nature's placenta. it is thousand year old pines and red, orange, crimson, yellow, bronze ballgown adorned mables and oaks in the fall. it is the spunky spikes of the ohia lehua and cresant headress of the mighty koa. it is the sloping backs of green hills snuggled by meandering streams. it is a white dome followed by lush bush and finally the tickle of waves on black and white sand toes. it is blizzarding snow. it is salt spitting sea foam.
the difference between here and there is cultural. it is crossing the street without acknowledging the stopped traffick. it is calling everyone, regardless of blood ties, aunty and uncle. it is a handshake and a smile. it is a kiss on the cheek. it is wearing your shoes both inside and outside. it is hardly wearing shoes. it is "and that is because". it is "howzit cuz?" it is asking outright. it is asking in the right way. it is flowers in vases and it is flowers beside faces. it is flip-flops. it is slippahs. it is up there. it is over here.
the difference between here and there is political. it is the "greater 48". it is the 5oth state. it is swing states. it is out in the wings state. it is big and it is small.
the difference between here and there can be calculated in miles and time zones, in years and dollar signs, in who was once and who is now. the difference between here and there can be measured mathmatically or figured out as a substraction of one from the other. the difference is great in a moment. over time, however, over human action, over cultural integrations, it is not so great. the difference between what happened and what is happening here and there is but a step away. from maine to hawaii, the problems are similar. why, then, do we let ourselves buy into physical distance as an accurate marker for our distance from the nation's problems? it is frustrating.
to be continued...
the difference between here and there is geographical. it is the frigid, yet sensual liquid black depths, a flowing obsidian of the mysterious Atlantic. it is the wild-eyed azure blue, sharp tongued and crazed, a youthful beauty laughing in the face of her name: Pacific. it is limestone slick and the mating of rocks in the beds of rivers. it is incandescant orange and red magma flowing like nature's placenta. it is thousand year old pines and red, orange, crimson, yellow, bronze ballgown adorned mables and oaks in the fall. it is the spunky spikes of the ohia lehua and cresant headress of the mighty koa. it is the sloping backs of green hills snuggled by meandering streams. it is a white dome followed by lush bush and finally the tickle of waves on black and white sand toes. it is blizzarding snow. it is salt spitting sea foam.
the difference between here and there is cultural. it is crossing the street without acknowledging the stopped traffick. it is calling everyone, regardless of blood ties, aunty and uncle. it is a handshake and a smile. it is a kiss on the cheek. it is wearing your shoes both inside and outside. it is hardly wearing shoes. it is "and that is because". it is "howzit cuz?" it is asking outright. it is asking in the right way. it is flowers in vases and it is flowers beside faces. it is flip-flops. it is slippahs. it is up there. it is over here.
the difference between here and there is political. it is the "greater 48". it is the 5oth state. it is swing states. it is out in the wings state. it is big and it is small.
the difference between here and there can be calculated in miles and time zones, in years and dollar signs, in who was once and who is now. the difference between here and there can be measured mathmatically or figured out as a substraction of one from the other. the difference is great in a moment. over time, however, over human action, over cultural integrations, it is not so great. the difference between what happened and what is happening here and there is but a step away. from maine to hawaii, the problems are similar. why, then, do we let ourselves buy into physical distance as an accurate marker for our distance from the nation's problems? it is frustrating.
to be continued...
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
status: planning
I've been working on the question, "What are you going to do with your life?" I'll let you know when I come up with something.
I am in the "planning stage". The planning stage involves speculation without action, thought without the motion. It is the equivalent of making a list of things to do and then taking the time to write and re-write the list until each task is preceeded by a little box which you will check off once the task is completed. Sometimes I cheat a little with the planning stage. I create a list and put things on there whos completion shouldn't be in question. "Eat breakfast" is one, or "brush teeth and comb hair", "go to doctor's appointment". But sometimes you need to cheat. Sometimes the planning stage is too much of a marathon that you need a pat on the back just to keep trudging along at that fat-kid-going-to-have-a-heart-attack pace. Sometimes you have incredibely big goals that need to be balanced out by the little easily attainable goals. I'll give you an example. "Get a job". "Get a job" is slightly more difficult than say, "brush teeth" but in the world of the planning stage and the list both "get a job" and "brush teeth" are seen as one item with one box preceeding them. Sometimes I look at my list and I've accomplished 2/3 of things I had on it!
Eventually there comes a time when the "Get a job" task keeps reappearing and the delusional bliss of cheating wears off. Then comes the outline planning stage. "Get a job" becomes a header and below it, I break it down into steps, each with a circle preceeding so that when I have finished one I can have the satisfaction of filling in the circle. Under "get a job" is "get newspaper", "look in classified ads", "go online and look in classified ads", "circle possibilities", "write down options", "apply", "follow up".
Lately, my lists have been getting longer. Things like "be happy" and "enjoy the moment" have somehow made it onto the list. I wake up in the morning and I plan. Sometimes I check my email in the middle of planning, I may straighten up the house, I may pet the cat. Sometimes I take a nap as planning can be exhausting. By the time I have made my list for the day, the day is coming to an end. Dad sometimes askes me what I'm doing with my life and I say "planning". My status is, at this point, planning.
I am in the "planning stage". The planning stage involves speculation without action, thought without the motion. It is the equivalent of making a list of things to do and then taking the time to write and re-write the list until each task is preceeded by a little box which you will check off once the task is completed. Sometimes I cheat a little with the planning stage. I create a list and put things on there whos completion shouldn't be in question. "Eat breakfast" is one, or "brush teeth and comb hair", "go to doctor's appointment". But sometimes you need to cheat. Sometimes the planning stage is too much of a marathon that you need a pat on the back just to keep trudging along at that fat-kid-going-to-have-a-heart-attack pace. Sometimes you have incredibely big goals that need to be balanced out by the little easily attainable goals. I'll give you an example. "Get a job". "Get a job" is slightly more difficult than say, "brush teeth" but in the world of the planning stage and the list both "get a job" and "brush teeth" are seen as one item with one box preceeding them. Sometimes I look at my list and I've accomplished 2/3 of things I had on it!
Eventually there comes a time when the "Get a job" task keeps reappearing and the delusional bliss of cheating wears off. Then comes the outline planning stage. "Get a job" becomes a header and below it, I break it down into steps, each with a circle preceeding so that when I have finished one I can have the satisfaction of filling in the circle. Under "get a job" is "get newspaper", "look in classified ads", "go online and look in classified ads", "circle possibilities", "write down options", "apply", "follow up".
Lately, my lists have been getting longer. Things like "be happy" and "enjoy the moment" have somehow made it onto the list. I wake up in the morning and I plan. Sometimes I check my email in the middle of planning, I may straighten up the house, I may pet the cat. Sometimes I take a nap as planning can be exhausting. By the time I have made my list for the day, the day is coming to an end. Dad sometimes askes me what I'm doing with my life and I say "planning". My status is, at this point, planning.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
the pilot
i step timidly toward the mic and there's nothing to say but i put myself out here and here i am and i am with nothing to say.
nothing to say, nothing to say
i contemplate my day,
my day. i step
timidly
to-
ward
the mic.
there is a slow low laying base:
thump-ba-bump-bump-ba-bump-bump-thump-thump-thump-ba-ba-ba-bump.
i step. i step-step. i step-step-step timidly.
t o w a r d
the mic.
suddenly, sud-den-
ly, there are cymbals
symbols
around me.
i'm talking and
raising and
pushing out
my voice
my thumb-ba-bump-bump-ba-bump-bump-thump-thump-ba-ba-ba-bump
voice.
suddenly, simply, my voice.
i'm spilling and spitting and spewing and saying
all the nothing i wanted to say
all the nothing of another way
all the nothing of everyones' day
thumb-ba-bump-bump-ba-bump-bump-thump-thump-ba-ba-ba-bump
i right the mic
put it back in it's stand
i stand
truimphanty
welcome to Breedom
nothing to say, nothing to say
i contemplate my day,
my day. i step
timidly
to-
ward
the mic.
there is a slow low laying base:
thump-ba-bump-bump-ba-bump-bump-thump-thump-thump-ba-ba-ba-bump.
i step. i step-step. i step-step-step timidly.
t o w a r d
the mic.
suddenly, sud-den-
ly, there are cymbals
symbols
around me.
i'm talking and
raising and
pushing out
my voice
my thumb-ba-bump-bump-ba-bump-bump-thump-thump-ba-ba-ba-bump
voice.
suddenly, simply, my voice.
i'm spilling and spitting and spewing and saying
all the nothing i wanted to say
all the nothing of another way
all the nothing of everyones' day
thumb-ba-bump-bump-ba-bump-bump-thump-thump-ba-ba-ba-bump
i right the mic
put it back in it's stand
i stand
truimphanty
welcome to Breedom
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