jelly: a sweet, clear, semisolid, somewhat elastic spread or preserve made from fruit juice and sugar boiled to a thick consistency
You're Mad
I stepped aside
watched you glide
off that broken bridge
into a gelatinous river of blue
pissed,
you vowed never to speak to me again
suicidal recital
"I want my time back, I want to spend it with you"
Showing posts with label poem. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poem. Show all posts
4/29/16
4/13/16
smithereens
smithereens: small pieces; bits
I just have to say that I don't know what I would do without podcasts. My brain would likely explode into a million tiny pieces from boredom at work.
Recently, I've just been listen to this Radiolab Episode (Cellmates 4/6/2016) on repeat. Neat to think about how all of humanity blossomed out of one random merger between two cells!
smithereens
tiny, tiny, simple, simple, bopping, bopping, sitting, drifting, in the water, doing nothing, bopping, bopping, bopping, bopping.
I just have to say that I don't know what I would do without podcasts. My brain would likely explode into a million tiny pieces from boredom at work.
Recently, I've just been listen to this Radiolab Episode (Cellmates 4/6/2016) on repeat. Neat to think about how all of humanity blossomed out of one random merger between two cells!
smithereens
tiny, tiny, simple, simple, bopping, bopping, sitting, drifting, in the water, doing nothing, bopping, bopping, bopping, bopping.
11/11/15
ennui
ennui: a feeling of listlessness and dissatisfaction arising from a lack of occupation or excitement
bored
staring at the scab on the back of my hand
darkish pink, flaky
it almost looks like a tiny grapefruit
too tiny to eat
I am bored
work piled high on my desk
every sheet of paper, every task mounting
building a tower of monotonous anxiety
I am beyond bored
I am nonfunctional
restless, my leg shakes
rhythmically bouncing up and down
I fantasize that seismic waves emanate from my foot
shaking all the earth
causing the walls to collapse, my cubicle to implode
nonfunctionally bored
if I have to run this same shitty dog and pony show continuously
I will murder myself
the phone rings
apparently
the pony got out and the dog is crying
dysfunctional
bored
staring at the scab on the back of my hand
darkish pink, flaky
it almost looks like a tiny grapefruit
too tiny to eat
I am bored
work piled high on my desk
every sheet of paper, every task mounting
building a tower of monotonous anxiety
I am beyond bored
I am nonfunctional
restless, my leg shakes
rhythmically bouncing up and down
I fantasize that seismic waves emanate from my foot
shaking all the earth
causing the walls to collapse, my cubicle to implode
nonfunctionally bored
if I have to run this same shitty dog and pony show continuously
I will murder myself
the phone rings
apparently
the pony got out and the dog is crying
dysfunctional
8/12/15
glint
glint: give out or reflect small flashes of light
when the noise gets too loud
there is a way
a way to let the shrill din seep out
and the calm smooth wave of silence roll in
there is a way
a way that rips apart the thin black felt of the speaker
freeing the stampede of thoughts and emotions trapped inside
a way that lets the musical chaos spill over like a gushing river of crimson red
swiftly oozing out and away to a downhill destination
there is a way
a way for the speaker to be filled back up with fizzy pops and snugly epiphanies
like a gentle vacuum sucking up a rush of endorphins
this way brings instant warmth and ephemeral delight
I sit and watch, high, following this way
the way I've always known
as the blood drips down
ka-plop
onto the glinting, glorious razor
I am fine
I am better
I am alive
when the noise gets too loud
there is a way
a way to let the shrill din seep out
and the calm smooth wave of silence roll in
there is a way
a way that rips apart the thin black felt of the speaker
freeing the stampede of thoughts and emotions trapped inside
a way that lets the musical chaos spill over like a gushing river of crimson red
swiftly oozing out and away to a downhill destination
there is a way
a way for the speaker to be filled back up with fizzy pops and snugly epiphanies
like a gentle vacuum sucking up a rush of endorphins
this way brings instant warmth and ephemeral delight
I sit and watch, high, following this way
the way I've always known
as the blood drips down
ka-plop
onto the glinting, glorious razor
I am fine
I am better
I am alive
7/24/14
residual
residual: remaining after the greater part or quantity has gone
Sometimes little wisps of past grudges remain with me. They have a faint and fleeting effect.
Wildest
I've torn my shirt off, Lord of the Fly's style
like a savage child, a billowing roar, and then a cough
it's been awhile
but I have something to say
anyway
no one will ever know the monsters in your head and the gremlins in your heart
Sometimes little wisps of past grudges remain with me. They have a faint and fleeting effect.
The Passive Aggressive Note
What is this scrap of paper here?
a note?
read it, read it, um hm, um hum
what could it possibly connote
Ah ha, of course
I show no remorse
You can take your note
and shove it
write some bad poetry. Just absolutely love it!
I've torn my shirt off, Lord of the Fly's style
like a savage child, a billowing roar, and then a cough
it's been awhile
but I have something to say
anyway
no one will ever know the monsters in your head and the gremlins in your heart
...as intimately as you do
my emotions now bustling like an overcrowded zoo
that’s why I said fuck it, why bother even trying to meet
them, greet them
they’re yours; your only true friends
chained to your heart and your head in grouped tens
one day, maybe, one day we’ll invite them out to play
we’ll tell them to sit in multiple different styles of
chairs
watch and see the real extent of how much I cared
we’ll invite them to a duel
we’ll play by brand new rules
it will be a fight to the death
until one of us takes our last breath
just you and I
let them eat their Denny's pie
the show will begin
rin tin tin
both of us alone
the crowd of monsters and gremlins will grown
armed with just a brim-full milk jug
a wall of rubbery white liquid will hit your mug
down you will fall
your empty body, I will continue to maul
crunch crunch crunch
I’ll take my boot and stomp in your small skeleton
your sham life, no longer you will be able to run
no blood in this bath
but alas, your monsters and gremlins will finally see my wrath
1/8/14
gelid
gelid: extremely cold; icy
It snowed about 4 inches last night. Naturally, I wrote a poem inspired by my walk to the store in the snow this morning to get almond milk.
gelid
the snow is like a thick sheet of cotton bolted to the earth
a cloth to dampen all the sound and bring silence to our turf
the snow, it covers everything in light
turning all times into day, even the glowing night
heavy with its crystals, branches bow and timbers burrow
standing sunken in its midst, cheeks pinched red, my brow unfurrows
It snowed about 4 inches last night. Naturally, I wrote a poem inspired by my walk to the store in the snow this morning to get almond milk.
gelid
the snow is like a thick sheet of cotton bolted to the earth
a cloth to dampen all the sound and bring silence to our turf
the snow, it covers everything in light
turning all times into day, even the glowing night
heavy with its crystals, branches bow and timbers burrow
standing sunken in its midst, cheeks pinched red, my brow unfurrows
9/21/13
lallygag
lallygag: to spend time idly; loaf
I haven't written in a long while (lollygaged even), and the only person to blame is myself. Shame! Below are some poems from my analog notebook that I decided to type up. Maybe it'll get the ball rolling again. Two of them are a little bleak, the poems, that is. But they were also written at deep and meaningful moments of pain. Best time to write, if you ask me. Keeps things fresh, raw even. Pardon the food metaphor. Okay, anyway, here it goes...
When the path gets bumpy
everyone gives up on you eventually
your heart, your hurt
too cumbersome to carry
tonight he chose beer pong and bimbo blondes over me
tonight he called me impossible and stormed out the door
a cloud of single dollar bills hovering above his head,
raining down stripper glitter and drunken disdain
tonight he tried to chase fantasies that neither of us will ever catch
tonight he laughed at me
my face full of mascara-streamed tears and dog-tired despondency
eventually, you give up on everyone
Favorite Thing
chocolate covered peanut, floppy bat ears,
white trick paw, stinky little dog breath
you are my favoritest thing in the entire colossal universe
knee-crook warmer, lip gloss thief, ice cube fiend
you lick the slat from my sweat, the hurt from my tears
front door bolter, chin rester, blanket burrower, acrobat
you are an unconditional ray of sunshine and delight,
a blinding beam of mischief and mini mayhem
sneezy mc sneezerson, yeast drunk drinker,
slightest small noise growler, lover of dirty panties
you're the funniest little dog I have ever met
Roscoe Pete, Roscoe Pico, Pico de Roscoe,
Roscoe Peterson Mamani the third
I dedicate this poem to you
Chunks
this must be what losing yourself feels like
curled up on the bathroom floor
a lump balled up in the back of your throat
ready to be hurled onto that cold yet calming porcelain rim
and willing to stain your nicest pair of black satin pumps
the ones with the bow on the toe
the ones that you once loved so deeply
chunk by chunk
your personality
gone
chunk by creamy chunk
your uniqueness
gone
rainbow colored bile
spewen away
your sparkle diminished
just takes one last drive heave
and all your being is gone
you're a blank slate
empty
ready to stand up
to wipe the mess from your chin
willing to straighten your tightly clinging dress
and join the rest of the party
this feeling must be what yourself once lost
I haven't written in a long while (lollygaged even), and the only person to blame is myself. Shame! Below are some poems from my analog notebook that I decided to type up. Maybe it'll get the ball rolling again. Two of them are a little bleak, the poems, that is. But they were also written at deep and meaningful moments of pain. Best time to write, if you ask me. Keeps things fresh, raw even. Pardon the food metaphor. Okay, anyway, here it goes...
When the path gets bumpy
everyone gives up on you eventually
your heart, your hurt
too cumbersome to carry
tonight he chose beer pong and bimbo blondes over me
tonight he called me impossible and stormed out the door
a cloud of single dollar bills hovering above his head,
raining down stripper glitter and drunken disdain
tonight he tried to chase fantasies that neither of us will ever catch
tonight he laughed at me
my face full of mascara-streamed tears and dog-tired despondency
eventually, you give up on everyone
Favorite Thing
chocolate covered peanut, floppy bat ears,
white trick paw, stinky little dog breath
you are my favoritest thing in the entire colossal universe
knee-crook warmer, lip gloss thief, ice cube fiend
you lick the slat from my sweat, the hurt from my tears
front door bolter, chin rester, blanket burrower, acrobat
you are an unconditional ray of sunshine and delight,
a blinding beam of mischief and mini mayhem
sneezy mc sneezerson, yeast drunk drinker,
slightest small noise growler, lover of dirty panties
you're the funniest little dog I have ever met
Roscoe Pete, Roscoe Pico, Pico de Roscoe,
Roscoe Peterson Mamani the third
I dedicate this poem to you
Chunks
this must be what losing yourself feels like
curled up on the bathroom floor
a lump balled up in the back of your throat
ready to be hurled onto that cold yet calming porcelain rim
and willing to stain your nicest pair of black satin pumps
the ones with the bow on the toe
the ones that you once loved so deeply
chunk by chunk
your personality
gone
chunk by creamy chunk
your uniqueness
gone
rainbow colored bile
spewen away
your sparkle diminished
just takes one last drive heave
and all your being is gone
you're a blank slate
empty
ready to stand up
to wipe the mess from your chin
willing to straighten your tightly clinging dress
and join the rest of the party
this feeling must be what yourself once lost
11/18/12
servile
servile: having or showing an excessive willingness to serve or please others
I think some folks (mostly fatherless women, in my not so humble opinion) are conditioned to be servile. Motivated by a fear of abandonment, they equate or at least correlate doing with receiving. There exists this inner dialog, "If I give, I will get." And yet life is unfair; we don't live in a tit-for-tat world. These lessons can be known, but not learned for most. Perhaps, myself included.
That being said, I've been sitting on these poems for awhile now. Timid to share them, I decided first to read one to my sister. She cried. So, now seems like the time. They come from not only my own experiences, but also those of my sister's, my mother's, my grandmother's, my girlfriends, and from the women authors and comics I've grown to love and loathe for their own honesty. Now I give you mine.
--
Evolution of a Whore
I would have loved, I would have grown
I would have listened, I would have respected
I would have held your hand, I would have kissed your lips
I would have been there, I would have missed it
I would have driven far, I would have been late
I would have talked, I would have learned
I would have helped, I would have believed
I would have moved to Maine, I would have tried to understand
I would have trusted, I would have let go
I would have had patience, I would have settled for less
I would have inked, I would have entertained
I would have married, I would have dressed our babies in superhero Halloween costumes
For you, I would have
But now I dress in sluty costumes, and let you fuck me in the ass
I've change, I've compromised myself and reshaped my desire for you
You could have, but I already did
If only you had been there for me, sober, unconditionally
If only you had been there for me bravely, honestly
If only you hadn't gotten drunk and high, hit me, buried me, ignored me, tormented me
If only you hadn't cheated on me, cheated off me, fooled me, disrespected me, given up on me, underestimated me
If only, I would have
--
Ferris Wheel
ferris wheels are funny
romanticized, honey
sitting on that swinging bench
to your biceps, I did clench
your face was elated
too soon to be berated
skin dotted with freckles
too thin for my sarcastic heckles
love is like g-force
it runs a rampant, intense course
not listening to my instructions
you threw up after that ride with all the suction
spinning round and round
your weakness, I did found
your hypocrisy was blind
when a stranger commented in the ticket line
"you two make such a cute couple"
If only I'd known I was looking for something more supple
no longer will I give out
my benefit of the doubt
without courage to pay the cost
it's your big fucking loss
--
To every fatherless woman that has ever had her heart broken, keep giving. You may never get, but you are beautiful for such generosity. Don't shut yourself off, you are the grace that the rest of the world takes advantage of.
I think some folks (mostly fatherless women, in my not so humble opinion) are conditioned to be servile. Motivated by a fear of abandonment, they equate or at least correlate doing with receiving. There exists this inner dialog, "If I give, I will get." And yet life is unfair; we don't live in a tit-for-tat world. These lessons can be known, but not learned for most. Perhaps, myself included.
That being said, I've been sitting on these poems for awhile now. Timid to share them, I decided first to read one to my sister. She cried. So, now seems like the time. They come from not only my own experiences, but also those of my sister's, my mother's, my grandmother's, my girlfriends, and from the women authors and comics I've grown to love and loathe for their own honesty. Now I give you mine.
--
Evolution of a Whore
I would have loved, I would have grown
I would have listened, I would have respected
I would have held your hand, I would have kissed your lips
I would have been there, I would have missed it
I would have driven far, I would have been late
I would have talked, I would have learned
I would have helped, I would have believed
I would have moved to Maine, I would have tried to understand
I would have trusted, I would have let go
I would have had patience, I would have settled for less
I would have inked, I would have entertained
I would have married, I would have dressed our babies in superhero Halloween costumes
For you, I would have
But now I dress in sluty costumes, and let you fuck me in the ass
I've change, I've compromised myself and reshaped my desire for you
You could have, but I already did
If only you had been there for me, sober, unconditionally
If only you had been there for me bravely, honestly
If only you hadn't gotten drunk and high, hit me, buried me, ignored me, tormented me
If only you hadn't cheated on me, cheated off me, fooled me, disrespected me, given up on me, underestimated me
If only, I would have
--
Ferris Wheel
ferris wheels are funny
romanticized, honey
sitting on that swinging bench
to your biceps, I did clench
your face was elated
too soon to be berated
skin dotted with freckles
too thin for my sarcastic heckles
love is like g-force
it runs a rampant, intense course
not listening to my instructions
you threw up after that ride with all the suction
spinning round and round
your weakness, I did found
your hypocrisy was blind
when a stranger commented in the ticket line
"you two make such a cute couple"
If only I'd known I was looking for something more supple
no longer will I give out
my benefit of the doubt
without courage to pay the cost
it's your big fucking loss
--
To every fatherless woman that has ever had her heart broken, keep giving. You may never get, but you are beautiful for such generosity. Don't shut yourself off, you are the grace that the rest of the world takes advantage of.
10/10/12
a-go-go
a-go-go: of, relating to, or being a disco; being in whirl of motion; being up-to-date — often used post-positively
a-go-go
Do you ever feel
like you're sitting, when in fact, you're standing
I bought five books
today
I do not feel okay
Zig-zags in my ears
Sounds all around
Too bad about your
dad
Furious fad
Why do you think we
rationalize
National ayes
Natural eyes
I bought mauve
mascara today
I seriously do not
feel okay
Why don't we
celebrate?
To myself, instead,
I 'm inclined to berate
Pity party
Perpetually tardy
p.s. got a job at Whole foods, found out that public/community libraries are super competitive to get hired by. Apparently everyone and their mother has an MLIS. Shrug. Shrug. Shrugity, shrug shrug shrug.
p.s. got a job at Whole foods, found out that public/community libraries are super competitive to get hired by. Apparently everyone and their mother has an MLIS. Shrug. Shrug. Shrugity, shrug shrug shrug.
9/18/12
space
space: a continuous area or expanse that is free, available, or unoccupied; a cowardly request when shit gets real...
Trix are For Kids
Silly Rabbit, happy endings are for people who deserve them
Silly Rabbit, good things like fathers and the ability to digest ice cream are for people who matter
Silly Rabbit, people like us, we get psychotic breaks before the age of 30, susceptibility to abusive relationships, and the ability to wallow in self pity
Oh Silly Rabbit, when will you ever learn
Start hopping fast, because you're burning all your bridges even faster
Trix are For Kids
Silly Rabbit, happy endings are for people who deserve them
Silly Rabbit, good things like fathers and the ability to digest ice cream are for people who matter
Silly Rabbit, people like us, we get psychotic breaks before the age of 30, susceptibility to abusive relationships, and the ability to wallow in self pity
Oh Silly Rabbit, when will you ever learn
Start hopping fast, because you're burning all your bridges even faster
9/9/12
foreshadow
foreshadow: a warning or indication of (a future event)
False Foreshadows
Your arms, tattooed tangles
My thoughts still mangled
Confidence embraces me
But maybe this isn’t the key
Lying here, pretending that everything’s okay
Not willing to spend the price these emotions ask me to pay
I can only see the end
Knowing, one day I might never see you again
False Foreshadows
Your arms, tattooed tangles
My thoughts still mangled
Confidence embraces me
But maybe this isn’t the key
Lying here, pretending that everything’s okay
Not willing to spend the price these emotions ask me to pay
I can only see the end
Knowing, one day I might never see you again
7/20/12
catharsis
catharsis: the process of releasing, and thereby providing relief from, strong or repressed emotions
My emotions are strong, but not repressed. Because of this fact, I found the time to write more mediocre poetry. I sincerely hope you enjoy.
the green maple seed knows no sorrow
born crisp and alive
hugging tightly to branches of entirety
it cannot understand that it will brown soon
and fall to the ground tomorrow
it is attached, a full and confident extension of something that makes sense
unity
it is one with many
but like it's cousin, the lost penny,
the shock of self-identity and the responsibility of redefinition
bring grief and unwarranted power
for the fallen maple seed feels dead and knows deep sorrow
nothing can replace what it once lost
love
cherry picked
he's a dick
heart wrenched
thirst not quenched
flip-flopped
hat-topped
applesauced
we both lost
mish-moshed
squish-squashed
sometimes I write you
but then I throw it away
I am so foolish
really red roller skates
ravenous raccoons rumble
railroad Ringo Ranch
My emotions are strong, but not repressed. Because of this fact, I found the time to write more mediocre poetry. I sincerely hope you enjoy.
Seedling
the green maple seed knows no sorrow
born crisp and alive
hugging tightly to branches of entirety
it cannot understand that it will brown soon
and fall to the ground tomorrow
it is attached, a full and confident extension of something that makes sense
unity
it is one with many
but like it's cousin, the lost penny,
the shock of self-identity and the responsibility of redefinition
bring grief and unwarranted power
for the fallen maple seed feels dead and knows deep sorrow
nothing can replace what it once lost
love
Applesauce
cherry picked
he's a dick
heart wrenched
thirst not quenched
flip-flopped
hat-topped
applesauced
we both lost
mish-moshed
squish-squashed
Fool's Gold
sometimes I write you
but then I throw it away
I am so foolish
Alliteration
really red roller skates
ravenous raccoons rumble
railroad Ringo Ranch
Teeter-totter
I'll pretend that
you don't have a girlfriend, if you'll pretend that I'm not in love with you
I'll pretend that I
am listening, if you'll pretend to be interesting
I'll pretend to be
just like them, if you'll pretend to be normal too
I'll pretend to give
a shit, if you'll pretend to be apathetic
I'll pretend that I didn't see, if you'll pretend
like it didn't happen
I'll pretend to be
anything you want me to be, if you'll pretend that you have all control
I'll pretend not to
be judgmental, if you'll pretend that you never cry
I'll pretend to
respect you, if you'll pretend to have courage
I'll pretend that
it's okay, we'll just be friends, if you'll pretend not to crush the people you
walk upon
I'll pretend to
care, if you'll pretend not to
I'll pretend that
you are a figment of my imagination, a hallucination, if you'll pretend that you have no effect
on anybody, ever
I'll pretend that I
like relationships, so long as you'll pretend to do the same
girl meets boy
boy is coy
girl falls in love with boy
boy doesn't love girl
girl goes crazy
everything is hazy
girl gets sadboy gets mad
girl says goodbye
boy continues to lie
girls gets sucked back in
boy thinks he has the win
girl feels like she will drown
boy hides his frown
girl needs to move on
boy keeps running his con
girl pretends like everything is dead
quick, your draw
rolling
bowling soiling
coiling
cold bold old
rolled
rolly polly molé round
frown upsidedown
drowned
in ice cubes frozen fruit juice
made fresh I offer just for you
Ode to my last relationship
girl meets boy
boy is coy
girl falls in love with boy
boy doesn't love girl
girl goes crazy
everything is hazy
girl gets sadboy gets mad
girl says goodbye
boy continues to lie
girls gets sucked back in
boy thinks he has the win
girl feels like she will drown
boy hides his frown
girl needs to move on
boy keeps running his con
girl pretends like everything is dead
quick, your draw
Blender
rolling
bowling soiling
coiling
cold bold old
rolled
rolly polly molé round
frown upsidedown
drowned
in ice cubes frozen fruit juice
made fresh I offer just for you
7/2/12
implode
implode: collapse or cause to collapse violently inward; utter or pronounce (a consonant) with a sharp intake of air
I haven't written a poem
or at least finished one
for quite the stretch of time
this is
perhaps
because all the poems
I'd like to write
start with
"fuck you"
and don't rhyme
I heard someone say
the other day
that all they want to do
is create
but I believe
creation leads to
mindless magistrates
people with no introspection
no intellectualization
no reflection
robots spinning webs of originality
but leading only to banality
what's the use in creating
if there exists no true reason
everyone, everything quickly becoming a leasion
what happened to self-indulgent compassion
to holy cows and dios mios
my life is lacking
heart self-attacking
I am imploding
this is implosion
what a shity ass feeling
I haven't written a poem
or at least finished one
for quite the stretch of time
this is
perhaps
because all the poems
I'd like to write
start with
"fuck you"
and don't rhyme
I heard someone say
the other day
that all they want to do
is create
but I believe
creation leads to
mindless magistrates
people with no introspection
no intellectualization
no reflection
robots spinning webs of originality
but leading only to banality
what's the use in creating
if there exists no true reason
everyone, everything quickly becoming a leasion
what happened to self-indulgent compassion
to holy cows and dios mios
my life is lacking
heart self-attacking
I am imploding
this is implosion
what a shity ass feeling
2/23/12
gale
gale: a strong current of air; a wind from 32-63 mph; an outburst of emotion
without courage
hurry
hurry
horrible
hurricane
rips right through me
my soul torn
like the sharp shards of the broken green grass
like the last strand of dignity dangling
threads from a tattered dish rag, used, past due
waved in violent winds
wet hands, soiled
wiped on a kitchen apron, frilly chills
your warning, I could not hear
over the greying grumble of my insanity, your instability
muted all possibilities
loomed into doomed darkness, depression
I drift away, spinning into middle Midwest tornadoes,
realizing that this is the last poem I'll ever write about you
hope you're happy
--
So last night I had a nightmare where I was moving into an apartment that was attached to an ex's house and I had to get through the house to get out or into my apartment, but I couldn't find the exit and in the meantime my ex traversed about with a myriad of other women. I hate you, stupid relationships and all the stupid baggage you leave behind.
So, then I woke up in a sweat and was wide awake for the rest of the night. To make good use of my time I listened to some Frightened Rabbit and wrote some poems. I hate you insomnia.
--
topsy turvy
I see sets of 8 circles rolling round and round,
across cold concrete sky,
my cheek is pressed, frozen to the piercing atmosphere
a hit and a miss,
telecasted hipcheck highlighted
hung-over, like a rag-doll, someone flaps upward, toward the flat track,
her fishnet rips, cross-hatched black seeps open to reveal bruised yellow-purple polka dots
edged by pink flesh,
the wind whips my face, steam from a pack of sharks rolling invisible circles around fresh meat,
the florescent lit floor sparkles, polished bare,
a bald man's head in black and white stripes
light flickers through wheel hubs of neon green and bright blue,
my head throbs, my ribs ache,
tweet tweet tweet tweet!
one deep, stabbing breath and I've muster the courage to turn the entire world upside down,
everything rotating, slowly
back onto my toe stops, two steps
and the jammer line beckons my return
welcome to the world of roller derby
without courage
hurry
hurry
horrible
hurricane
rips right through me
my soul torn
like the sharp shards of the broken green grass
like the last strand of dignity dangling
threads from a tattered dish rag, used, past due
waved in violent winds
wet hands, soiled
wiped on a kitchen apron, frilly chills
your warning, I could not hear
over the greying grumble of my insanity, your instability
muted all possibilities
loomed into doomed darkness, depression
I drift away, spinning into middle Midwest tornadoes,
realizing that this is the last poem I'll ever write about you
hope you're happy
--
So last night I had a nightmare where I was moving into an apartment that was attached to an ex's house and I had to get through the house to get out or into my apartment, but I couldn't find the exit and in the meantime my ex traversed about with a myriad of other women. I hate you, stupid relationships and all the stupid baggage you leave behind.
So, then I woke up in a sweat and was wide awake for the rest of the night. To make good use of my time I listened to some Frightened Rabbit and wrote some poems. I hate you insomnia.
--
topsy turvy
I see sets of 8 circles rolling round and round,
across cold concrete sky,
my cheek is pressed, frozen to the piercing atmosphere
a hit and a miss,
telecasted hipcheck highlighted
hung-over, like a rag-doll, someone flaps upward, toward the flat track,
her fishnet rips, cross-hatched black seeps open to reveal bruised yellow-purple polka dots
edged by pink flesh,
the wind whips my face, steam from a pack of sharks rolling invisible circles around fresh meat,
the florescent lit floor sparkles, polished bare,
a bald man's head in black and white stripes
light flickers through wheel hubs of neon green and bright blue,
my head throbs, my ribs ache,
tweet tweet tweet tweet!
one deep, stabbing breath and I've muster the courage to turn the entire world upside down,
everything rotating, slowly
back onto my toe stops, two steps
and the jammer line beckons my return
welcome to the world of roller derby
1/21/12
barney
barney: Australian slang for a fight
I had the most wonderful conversation with a gentleman, or should I say bloke, from down-under the other afternoon. Him and his wife are visiting Boise (again) to catch up with old friends. Apart from barely understanding most of what he said due to the mere fact that his ratio of slang words to actual English used was almost 5:1, I soaked in an overwhelming sense of ease. He seemed laid back, as most individuals from that area are. My life has been a giant spiral of stress these past few weeks, well years really. And despite the spinning tornado of chaos that encircles me now, I will smile and say, "apples, she'll be."
I wrote the following poem on the drive to Provo, UT to help ease my nerves and reflect on the fact that I keep falling in love with assholes and how that in no way shape or form contributes to my sanity. Maybe I'm turning into a she-woman-man hater. Anyway, I promise promise promise that I will catch up on posts. My life is crazy stressed out busy lately. Sigh.
The Fight
por qué no sé
no sé por qué
mi amor
cállate por favor
por qué
porque
tu corazón falta
mi amor
tienes pajaros en tu cabeza
por favor
por qué
porque
siempre, tus ojos son cerrados
tu voz es en selencio
mi amor
ay, mi amor
mi amorcita
no me diga, "mi amorcita" por favor
no existen amor entre nosotros
por qué
porque
voy a salir
?hoy día?
no sé
por qué no sé
no sé por qué
Don't frown, even if you feel like death
update- I think I added that last line in one of my crazy insomniatic spells, my goodness, the things I do when I am sleep deprived!
I had the most wonderful conversation with a gentleman, or should I say bloke, from down-under the other afternoon. Him and his wife are visiting Boise (again) to catch up with old friends. Apart from barely understanding most of what he said due to the mere fact that his ratio of slang words to actual English used was almost 5:1, I soaked in an overwhelming sense of ease. He seemed laid back, as most individuals from that area are. My life has been a giant spiral of stress these past few weeks, well years really. And despite the spinning tornado of chaos that encircles me now, I will smile and say, "apples, she'll be."
I wrote the following poem on the drive to Provo, UT to help ease my nerves and reflect on the fact that I keep falling in love with assholes and how that in no way shape or form contributes to my sanity. Maybe I'm turning into a she-woman-man hater. Anyway, I promise promise promise that I will catch up on posts. My life is crazy stressed out busy lately. Sigh.
The Fight
por qué no sé
no sé por qué
mi amor
cállate por favor
por qué
porque
tu corazón falta
mi amor
tienes pajaros en tu cabeza
por favor
por qué
porque
siempre, tus ojos son cerrados
tu voz es en selencio
mi amor
ay, mi amor
mi amorcita
no me diga, "mi amorcita" por favor
no existen amor entre nosotros
por qué
porque
voy a salir
?hoy día?
no sé
por qué no sé
no sé por qué
Don't frown, even if you feel like death
update- I think I added that last line in one of my crazy insomniatic spells, my goodness, the things I do when I am sleep deprived!
12/22/11
cabin fever
cabin fever: irritability, listlessness, and similar symptoms resulting from long confinement or isolation indoors during the winter
I was bored at work so Will (our IT guy, ex Marine) and I scrambled our names. I came up with "no ham, get quail" from my name. I seriously couldn't think of a "qu" word other than quail. Will's was "moon rain swill n.i.b." I asked him if I could start calling him "Moon" for short. He didn't resist. Jealous.
I also wrote some poems and listened to a fuck ton of Wye Oak. Winter songs!
Sadist
I wish I had a sheet big enough to block out the sun
Fucking quit calling me hun*
Same song seven times
Buried beneath piercing blue chimes
Boiling belly
Sugar sugar sugar sweet
Withhold your judgment
Cracked golden popcorn
Contaminated toxin
Handful of candy
Colors patch the clouds
Neon green and acid orange
Blood red rain rains drown
Blood red rain runs down
Hey, wait, deepest dark
Let us complain together
Light blinded bright eyes
Pick apart the pieces that persistently permeate
Forever
Final request, fatal foe
Don’t blow through many hoes
Filthy figment of my imagination
Please, stop
Stop, please
Word Games
fuzzy butter flys by
pass me the dish
full of winter star
rowe a boat and we'll begin again
this content is from Merge Records, perhaps one of the greatest record labels to ever exist on this sweet earth.
*post to come about this
I was bored at work so Will (our IT guy, ex Marine) and I scrambled our names. I came up with "no ham, get quail" from my name. I seriously couldn't think of a "qu" word other than quail. Will's was "moon rain swill n.i.b." I asked him if I could start calling him "Moon" for short. He didn't resist. Jealous.
I also wrote some poems and listened to a fuck ton of Wye Oak. Winter songs!
Sadist
I wish I had a sheet big enough to block out the sun
Fucking quit calling me hun*
Same song seven times
Buried beneath piercing blue chimes
Boiling belly
Sugar sugar sugar sweet
Withhold your judgment
Cracked golden popcorn
Contaminated toxin
Handful of candy
Colors patch the clouds
Neon green and acid orange
Blood red rain rains drown
Blood red rain runs down
Hey, wait, deepest dark
Let us complain together
Light blinded bright eyes
Pick apart the pieces that persistently permeate
Forever
Final request, fatal foe
Don’t blow through many hoes
Filthy figment of my imagination
Please, stop
Stop, please
Word Games
fuzzy butter flys by
pass me the dish
full of winter star
rowe a boat and we'll begin again
this content is from Merge Records, perhaps one of the greatest record labels to ever exist on this sweet earth.
*post to come about this
8/29/11
firecracker
firecracker: an idiom meaning a very intense, lively, and outspoken individual; spitfire
I must place a disclosure at the start of this post...the words below are not aimed towards anyone other than one specific individual, and it's probably close to a 99.99% chance that you are not that person. Despite this, please feel free to read on.
So last night, meh, I forgot to mention one thing while under the dim lights of Sonic, sitting across from your small skeleton on that cookie-cutting red bench which left imprints of evil ovals on my thighs. I forgot to inform you that you're the one who made the biggest assumption of them all. You assumed I was okay, silly really.
Que poem.
Firecracker
I am not like you
your face all smugged together,
vapidly dribbling, "pain's not necessarily a bad thing...
drifting through life is the right thing to do"
fuck that shit,
I never want to live my life like that again
if it comes to it,
I will make all things messy and difficult
I will feel, but not wallow
I will live with intention, and not suffer
I will be a wild whirlwind
I will swing my wreaking ball right into your heart
smash it into a trillion tiny flecks of ruby red
you will feel my wrath
you will have no choice but to bow in my presence
as I sweat sugary seven-7-up-sprite
and stomp in giant puddles of hyperactivity,
splashing you and all your pathetic lambs with exhalation and a natural high
I will firecracker through your life like an electric storm of
glittery gold and fiery yellow,
sprinkling down onto your skin,
seeping-in like the creeping ash and the flickering sting of a cigarette burn
I will not be compromised.
I must place a disclosure at the start of this post...the words below are not aimed towards anyone other than one specific individual, and it's probably close to a 99.99% chance that you are not that person. Despite this, please feel free to read on.
So last night, meh, I forgot to mention one thing while under the dim lights of Sonic, sitting across from your small skeleton on that cookie-cutting red bench which left imprints of evil ovals on my thighs. I forgot to inform you that you're the one who made the biggest assumption of them all. You assumed I was okay, silly really.
Que poem.
Firecracker
I am not like you
your face all smugged together,
vapidly dribbling, "pain's not necessarily a bad thing...
drifting through life is the right thing to do"
fuck that shit,
I never want to live my life like that again
if it comes to it,
I will make all things messy and difficult
I will feel, but not wallow
I will live with intention, and not suffer
I will be a wild whirlwind
I will swing my wreaking ball right into your heart
smash it into a trillion tiny flecks of ruby red
you will feel my wrath
you will have no choice but to bow in my presence
as I sweat sugary seven-7-up-sprite
and stomp in giant puddles of hyperactivity,
splashing you and all your pathetic lambs with exhalation and a natural high
I will firecracker through your life like an electric storm of
glittery gold and fiery yellow,
sprinkling down onto your skin,
seeping-in like the creeping ash and the flickering sting of a cigarette burn
I will not be compromised.
8/23/11
"if you felt good inside, you wouldn't be so scared of me"
"if you felt good inside, you wouldn't be so scared of me": song lyric from Mirah, off her album C'mon Miricale
content courtesy of chaosrah on youtube. I do not own this video.
My mind is a vortex of spinning cognition and introspection. Never stopping, never slowing. It's at its worse when my thoughts get so loud that they proceed in a shouting match with one another. There's a screaming opera of voices in my head right before I sink, sink into a hole, spinning downward, buried beneath my thoughts like a pile of dirt slowly crumbling over my body, compressed under a heavy and pensive elephant sitting on my chest.
If I think too much, I can think myself straight into a panic attack. I wish anxiety on no individual. You honestly feel as if you are dying, as if there is nothing you can do. The harder you try to calm down, the more you try to halt thinking, the worse it gets.
Don't get me wrong, I love thinking. I have a very complex inner life. More rich than, probably, most people's day to day lives. My brain is a crazy place. But sometimes, in rarity, I long for a quite mind.
Recently, I've been listening to a lot of Mirah. Her music makes my mind quite. She sings the words I am already thinking, so my mind just stops, listens, lives. There is no reason to think when the thoughts are being passed through your brain by another. Maybe this is why hypnotist have jobs and commercials tell you to "buy, buy, buy" and we obey.
Anyway, with this influx of thinking, I've realized that I haven't written in a long while. So, I packed my notepad and have been frantically scribbling and scrawling these past few days. Word vomit, some may say. This has helped, my mind may not be completely quite, but it has turned the volume down. My brain is quite enough now to realize that, frankly, "if you felt good inside, you wouldn't be so scared of me." This you, thye may not know who they are, but I do.
I wrote this, these are my thoughts. I am secure and safe now, and wish you were too. You'd at least, then, have the courage to live your life unabashed.
So.
QUE PENA
quality is a trait I stopped searching for once you choked the suss out of my curiosity.
ugly is the more I see, the closer I get.
ending is my tolerance and compassion, the pity you deceived your way into guarantee.
please leave me alone. I need coping, I need to lament my losses and gasp for the air that has long vacated my livelihood while buried beneath grand and lofty egos.
everything is frigid, chilled.
no air colder to breath, ice crystals stab my esophagus and consume my lungs, freezing my heart frigid and numbing my head into a solid stone of slush.
again
no, I can't do this again.
content courtesy of chaosrah on youtube. I do not own this video.
My mind is a vortex of spinning cognition and introspection. Never stopping, never slowing. It's at its worse when my thoughts get so loud that they proceed in a shouting match with one another. There's a screaming opera of voices in my head right before I sink, sink into a hole, spinning downward, buried beneath my thoughts like a pile of dirt slowly crumbling over my body, compressed under a heavy and pensive elephant sitting on my chest.
If I think too much, I can think myself straight into a panic attack. I wish anxiety on no individual. You honestly feel as if you are dying, as if there is nothing you can do. The harder you try to calm down, the more you try to halt thinking, the worse it gets.
Don't get me wrong, I love thinking. I have a very complex inner life. More rich than, probably, most people's day to day lives. My brain is a crazy place. But sometimes, in rarity, I long for a quite mind.
Recently, I've been listening to a lot of Mirah. Her music makes my mind quite. She sings the words I am already thinking, so my mind just stops, listens, lives. There is no reason to think when the thoughts are being passed through your brain by another. Maybe this is why hypnotist have jobs and commercials tell you to "buy, buy, buy" and we obey.
Anyway, with this influx of thinking, I've realized that I haven't written in a long while. So, I packed my notepad and have been frantically scribbling and scrawling these past few days. Word vomit, some may say. This has helped, my mind may not be completely quite, but it has turned the volume down. My brain is quite enough now to realize that, frankly, "if you felt good inside, you wouldn't be so scared of me." This you, thye may not know who they are, but I do.
I wrote this, these are my thoughts. I am secure and safe now, and wish you were too. You'd at least, then, have the courage to live your life unabashed.
So.
QUE PENA
quality is a trait I stopped searching for once you choked the suss out of my curiosity.
ugly is the more I see, the closer I get.
ending is my tolerance and compassion, the pity you deceived your way into guarantee.
please leave me alone. I need coping, I need to lament my losses and gasp for the air that has long vacated my livelihood while buried beneath grand and lofty egos.
everything is frigid, chilled.
no air colder to breath, ice crystals stab my esophagus and consume my lungs, freezing my heart frigid and numbing my head into a solid stone of slush.
again
no, I can't do this again.
2/8/11
to get one's ears lowered
to get one's ears lowered: slang for hair cut
I haven't cut my hair since May
the length has always been a measure of something in my life
this time it's of pain
of the pain that was impressed upon me in your absence
of pain that slowly clamps down on my brain
of pain that throbs in my temples every day
duh dun
duh dun
I ignore it the best I can,
patiently waiting for it to go away
waiting to regain some semblance of sanity
the day I don't think about you is the day I cut my hair
your brain is blank
your head is bald
you have no measure of pain,
just forgotten memories
just that one quite moment when you feel like an ass and then shrug your shoulders
and say tough luck
I was just a speed bump
just an after thought in your pathetic attempt to justify life and the way you waste it
it's people like you who make life for me one constant struggle
I just want you to leave me the fuck alone, get out of my head, erase you from my every other thought
and besides, I'm in desperate need of a hair cut
update 2/8/11 12:19pm: next time, remind me to eat breakfast before I blog. I'd seem a lot more chipper and less self-involved and depressed. food first, then blog. hey on a more positive note that gnarly rink-rash that I got on the palm of my had last scrimmage is finally healing...almost two weeks later and it finally decided to start the healing process. It's taking its sweet time...as all my wounds do.
I haven't cut my hair since May
the length has always been a measure of something in my life
this time it's of pain
of the pain that was impressed upon me in your absence
of pain that slowly clamps down on my brain
of pain that throbs in my temples every day
duh dun
duh dun
I ignore it the best I can,
patiently waiting for it to go away
waiting to regain some semblance of sanity
the day I don't think about you is the day I cut my hair
your brain is blank
your head is bald
you have no measure of pain,
just forgotten memories
just that one quite moment when you feel like an ass and then shrug your shoulders
and say tough luck
I was just a speed bump
just an after thought in your pathetic attempt to justify life and the way you waste it
it's people like you who make life for me one constant struggle
I just want you to leave me the fuck alone, get out of my head, erase you from my every other thought
and besides, I'm in desperate need of a hair cut
update 2/8/11 12:19pm: next time, remind me to eat breakfast before I blog. I'd seem a lot more chipper and less self-involved and depressed. food first, then blog. hey on a more positive note that gnarly rink-rash that I got on the palm of my had last scrimmage is finally healing...almost two weeks later and it finally decided to start the healing process. It's taking its sweet time...as all my wounds do.
12/13/10
I need a boy like you like a hole in my head
I need a boy like you like a hole in my head: a song lyric from The Dixie Chicks' 1999 release "Fly," the sucky truth
I fell
and hard.
no cartoon band-aid will heal this wound.
I fell
and couldn't get up
it was winter and I laid there motionless
until my brain froze over
I fell
and no one came to help
defeated, I accepted my demise
I fell
and music rained down, vibrating all around, shaking my skeleton skinny
I fell
and when the music stopped, I reached for a can of anti-freeze, defrosted my brain, and told you how I should have eaten the entire cake before my stomach rotted away and fell from my bone
sometimes the most pernicious parts of our personalities are the ones we love the most
you make me sneeze and not in twos
p.s. I don't need this right now, I have two term papers to write and bigger fish to fry. why do you do this to me? fuck off. (wow I don't think I've ever told anybody to fuck off, that's fun).
Update: 12/14/10 6:34am Like a balloon, I let go.
Update: 12/15/10 1:53pm went to lunch with nick at pepinos, you'd think it would have cheered me up, but sadly no. As delicious as the burrito was, my stomach still hurts, I still have a massive headache, and I can't focus long enough to get even one page of my thesis work done. Oh and I couldn't sleep. As I lied there last night, restless in my bed, headphones on and music blaring, I realized that I'm bone tried. I'm tired of people telling me that I "deserve better." What the fuck do you think I'm deserving of? The David, Superman, or some other impossible ideal? You all just don't get it. I've never wanted "better," just sincerity, just you as you are (I mean, honesty and dependability don't hurt either). Gosh, I hate being a masochist.
I fell
and hard.
no cartoon band-aid will heal this wound.
I fell
and couldn't get up
it was winter and I laid there motionless
until my brain froze over
I fell
and no one came to help
defeated, I accepted my demise
I fell
and music rained down, vibrating all around, shaking my skeleton skinny
I fell
and when the music stopped, I reached for a can of anti-freeze, defrosted my brain, and told you how I should have eaten the entire cake before my stomach rotted away and fell from my bone
sometimes the most pernicious parts of our personalities are the ones we love the most
you make me sneeze and not in twos
p.s. I don't need this right now, I have two term papers to write and bigger fish to fry. why do you do this to me? fuck off. (wow I don't think I've ever told anybody to fuck off, that's fun).
Update: 12/14/10 6:34am Like a balloon, I let go.
Update: 12/15/10 1:53pm went to lunch with nick at pepinos, you'd think it would have cheered me up, but sadly no. As delicious as the burrito was, my stomach still hurts, I still have a massive headache, and I can't focus long enough to get even one page of my thesis work done. Oh and I couldn't sleep. As I lied there last night, restless in my bed, headphones on and music blaring, I realized that I'm bone tried. I'm tired of people telling me that I "deserve better." What the fuck do you think I'm deserving of? The David, Superman, or some other impossible ideal? You all just don't get it. I've never wanted "better," just sincerity, just you as you are (I mean, honesty and dependability don't hurt either). Gosh, I hate being a masochist.
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