the novel

i just finished a novel.
i am left lonely but completely filled
so powerful was the the words that stirred inside of me
i am lost in their images and whispers
i feel as if i have fallen in love, i have been made love to
and left in a sun lit room
the pain raw but to lovely
to not want more

the fog partout

i thought i had seen it in every way possible, but that was not true. as i gathered greens from the forest floor ferns and moss i suddenly saw it or perhaps i felt it come at me head on. the fog thick and if possible roaring without a sound. magical, i know i wish i had a better word for it. i was not dressed in some ethereal dress of white or romantic red unfortunately, i wore jeans with dried mud, a dark sweater with hay all over it,  clogs covered with dirt, manure and evidence of a dog who must have thought them a chew toy, my hair a dark mess of curls and no doubt hay could be found mingling among them. the fog came in so quick that for a second i became disoriented but ducks sounds pointed me in the right direction. the tempertature was milder than just an a few minutes before even though dusk was a moment away. how is it that this place here never stops taking my breath away, one can almost feel beautiful here.

framingham

no one knew where to find you, i asked them with their shiny things owned by visa and american express but they had never been. i hated them for not knowing, hated them for their "i am sorry, i do not know where that is". my eyes now like water falls, i scrounged up dark glasses with scratches on them from the car floor, yet i knew they hid nothing. i drove to where ever someone pointed but their fingers led me to despair. finally hours past and i found you but it was too late. my the dark glasses fogged up with tears, tears  so heavy of salt passing my lips, down my chin and unto my jeans . my heart was broken, broken. i had cried so hard that  my soul disconnected from me, from everything for good this time . when i opened my eyes i saw so clearly it scared me, i could see far into the distance, though houses and  forest but not in some romantic way but instead as if everything was water, lucid nothing different from one another everything the same all without weight or purpose.

soon someone will recommend eating the poor!~

why obama i do not understand
were you eating horse meat in asia
when you signed.

did it go something like this

President"  what is this i am eating?
Horse meat
oh really, i gotta get me some, is it legal back home dear boy"

idiot staff"no mr president but  you have a bill on your desk waiting to be signed"

President"oh sign it  dear fellow sign it wait till the boys get a taste of this"

President"what i signed the bill, so were is my horse meat???

Idiot staff "well mr president we are americans
we do not eat horse meat"

President"well why did we sign the bill? "sir you signed the bill, well what for?"
"answer me boy,

idiot staff  well mr president i thought you where doing it for votes from the cowboys"

President"oh man
i think we will loose some of my guaranteed votes, what am i to do?"

Idiot staff mr president just say you did it for jobs"

President" brilliant! now is there anyway we can sneak in some of that stallion"

oh and dear PETA wtf?


the title of this post was inspired by  a modest proposal essay,  written in 1729 

the window pane

she took the rag from it's hook  and walked towards the window she began to clean, the rag against the glass in circling motion. her hand slowed down and came to a stop. she stared at the window not through it as she often does,  but at it. there she saw imprints of finger tips, were they hers she wondered or his. she dropped the rag and opened up her hand and slowly brought it to the glass,  still warm from the afternoon sun she pressed her hand against it. they were not hers, at least she did not think so. she touched every tip with her own, lingered over them she swore it was like he was here but he was not, long ago gone. she picked up her rag once again but as she reached for the window she knew that she could not erase those just yet.   even  if they were hers both reminded her of the us that once existed. she walked away putting the rag back on the hook, turned her head once more towards the window the memories flooded in just like the sunlight had done moments before.

Mr Robert Oliver

I am writing to ask you to stop studying me if that is what you are doing.

you see there is nothing to learn i assure you. i am quiet content as i am and i have a few  pleasures in life and even if they might seem small to most, sitting at a cafe anonymously sipping what i hope is a good coffee while reading or perusing the net is one of them. I have spent much time on wasted distractions in fact if my life was a map all the blue on such map would equal the time that has been wasted on such things. i know now that i have lived the largest part of my life al ready, no i am not dying of some disease to my knowledge nor have i seen my future that has me  getting hit my bus but i see things realistically and the largest time has passed.  Just for the record the coffee here is bad.  were was i?  oh yes, to make it clear i have no time devoted to what ever you are offering, again none what so ever. if you are wondering, yes i am in love with you,  perhaps it is the drops of paint on your shoes or the fact that you are covered in textures  like corduroy and wool. do not get to excited on my way here i fell in love with a tree that's bark was so grey i found myself touching it, then as i parked the car i heard a woodpecker and confessed that i was in love with it too, oh and this song well yes i seem to  love that too.. so you see i am  fickle might i remind you of the blues on my map.  good day.

elections are like auctions we are all invited to attend
but the winner is always the one with the most money

liev

liev i failed you, i failed  you thinking i was doing the opposite. i am truly sorry.
my heart aches, like it deserves too.

you can not

you tried to put your arms around my neck
then you opened me up and took my heart out with your bare hands
then you started building a cage of metal and high tensile wire
you were trying to do  it again, have my soul locked up.

well you can't take her from me, or anyone or anything
so what, i went away, i smiled and laughed, dreamt and lived out loud.

but she is here and your hands are nowhere near me
and i will not imprison myself again.

planet earth

i don't think the aliens want to come here anymore

the kitchen door

the whisper     you should close the door
me                   i do not want to
the whisper     they will be all right
me                  what if they
the whisper      they will be all right
me                  i can't
the whisper     you must learn too
me                    must i
the whisper     you must believe they will take care of themselves
me                   i can't take the chance, i promised
the whisper     your health
me                   is fine, they give me life
the whisper    they take from it too
me                  not now, not yet someday, maybe
the whisper    you must learn, have faith
me                   hahaha faith, i trust them and me and nothing else.

yes

you should not be allowed to love

taste water when you are hot

you should not be allowed to dance

in your living room, a wedding or block party

you should not be allowed to speak through facebook

a blog or out loud

you should not be allowed to look out this window

at this view or straight into my eyes.

you should not be allowed to breath

stop.

why

because

what

just

let it be.

no.

yes.

yes

no

never

ever

maybe yes.

take my hand

no

yes

never

come here

no 

yes

hem of her pants

the hem of her pants soaked up all the rain
his body, his skin held the warmth of the sun
he took her hand
the pants fell to the floor.

no longer

sometimes i wake up thinking you have stopped loving me. every time i actually get to close my eyes and sleep, you take another ones shape, name you love me for a minute just enough to remind me, then you take it away. it is always done with such cruelty.  love has come to an end greets me like the morning birds and the stretching dogs. i know longer love you whispered in my ear now again, often.

not a mother

i am sitting, i feel as if my heart is the wind and any minute it will blow. i am full of anxiety perhaps the three hours at the dealership with bad news is making me so, perhaps my period is coming i am almost forty why cant i remember when it is coming, why does it still come i am not a mother and will not be. motherhood you are slapping me in the face, these days over and over pretty little pictures of swollen bellies, tiny hands and big beautiful eyes. i have reached a new place i can feel it. i am  not going to have a child, how many times have i wrote this here. now it is this whimpering sound that never stops it comes from heart, my soul .the tiny birds in the nest right by my door, the mother does such a wonderful job, but she taunts me too, sasha and claude sitting on there eggs, giving up fresh air, food and water to care for their babies tucked away in shells, they taunt me.

i am breaking, breaking , breaking my body looks like it has bared children ten times over but not a one, not a one, this is my fate, punishment, doom.

the want

i am sitting in the dark, except for the fire flies that are on the other side of the window panes
the wind is stirring the trees and the leaves can no longer remain silent
far behind the hills the thunder begins its journey, will it come to me i am beginning to wonder

it is instantly quiet, i know this moment i have felt it before, soon the clouds will open
up and everything will feel the rain fall but i for i am  sheltered by the wooden beams from the old apple barn but the sound will stir in me the want to write poetry, the want to play, to run, to feel, the want, the want, the want... roaring now it falls.

sleep

it looks like you are sleeping with your eyes opened he said
pardon, no but perhaps it must look like that she said
oh i did not mean it in a bad way, what i meant is you look at peace he said
peace, i am afraid you might be judging a book by its cover, she said
i have upset you i can tell he said
how can you tell she said
he quiet now
she staring at the sea that is not there
i think i have approached you all wrong, you looked like peace to me, ones company i suddenly crave he said
you are very kind, you will not find what you are looking for in me, for i myself have been looking for it, it is no where in me, not even the tiniest speck she said
your very kind but one more word and tears will fall but they will not belong to anything you said..she said.

pieces

today you have broken my heart in a million pieces

something that will hurt us for the rest of our lives.

home in me

the story is writing itself, with every movement that takes place
when the horse gallops or  a wing gently waves, when the grass sways from
the travelling wind or when the hem of my skirt gets shortened.

i am at home here more than any where before. i am shedding.
why is it one always tells another when the other moves away
you can re invent yourself for i belive it is the opposite it is when
what has already been invented finally appears, it is where one goes
 to finally come home.

un found

sometimes you watch a film that is made to break your heart and it does. but you still seek such films, somehow they leave you feeling unfound, discovered but not claimed. then there is the music that repeats itself and you do not have the heart to turn it off for it is hauntingly beautiful and through it you feel as if you still have a chance

got it.

it would be very hard to put into words the last few month and more so what i feel on this very day.
i feel as if i am yelling but the noise does not escape my lips.
i understand, no biological kids ever. i got it.
that i have also encountered people with fake blood in their veins and those people will never be genuine, i got it.
that i am not as strong as i hoped i was, i got it.
that coping skills are none existent, i got it.
that i leave a lot to the last moment, i got it.

that this too shall pass, i do believe i get it.

tomorrow

tomorrow, is big. real big.
today was good, real good.( minus the whole coughing, sneezing, fever thing)
tomorrow is big.
the biggest.
tomorrow might be good, no great.
tomorrow might be bad, real sad.
tomorrow is big.
real big.
big is what tomorrow is.

goodbye and hello

i wanted to write a post about what last year meant for me but it find the task challenging, daunting, overwhelming. i know the happy things with such clarity but everything else is a mix of complicated feelings, you see i spent most of last year treading water, holding my breath whether it was fearing that the animals would get sick or that my marriage would end. I lost many things last year once again but i also lost thing things i need too.

all i know is this year has to be bigger because i will work to make it that way. i do not want to be bigger  though:) i spoke of wanting to be a mama and maybe that will come true but first i have to understand what kind of wife i am and what kind of husband he is and if he still loves me, it easy to say i love you once you said a million times what is hard d to say is i no longer do but this hoping i will hear it a million times more before my heart stops beating. so now i take a deep breath and start to formulate a plan, i will begin to sculpt my mind and body take deep breaths, rest my back against something and live a good life.