Flanagan

when I was a girl I always wanted a pet penguin. My mom told me that penguins just couldn't live in Michigan in the summer, but I persisted. So one year on christmas I came down the stairs to a beautiful tree decorated with lights ...and right on top of a huge pile of presents...was a frozen chicken in tuxedo. I decided to name him flanagan after my great great great great great great grandfathers pet goat. flanagan and I did everything together. We played in the snow, built forts, ice skated and even built a rink in my backyard. He lived in an igloo that my dad fashioned out of old packaged of frozen spinach. We built it in the corner of the backyard under a dormant rosebush. I remember it like it was yesterday...flanagan and I spent everyday together in the snow for 3 months. Then one day in late march there was a spring thaw. I went out to flanagan's igloo to play, only to find a strange smell...like there was leftover KFC in the trash for a week. Poor flanagan was sitting in a pile of his own juice. His tuxedo was dripping with spoiled chicken skin. I cried for days. My parents held a funeral for him a week later...I couldnt even deliver the eulogy, i was so broken up. As we were digging a hole for him in the compost pile I vowed I would one day go to antactica, because it was a place a frozen chicken could live forever....

the end

The boy in a pastel dream

There was a boy in a pastel dream
he sang songs for serpents and toothpick students
he turned truth into a dirty word
and let the world chew up the insides of TV shows
a Television antidote
How heavy is this wait?
a kilo, a pound, an inch
...of pastel schemes.

La Vie Noir

I am feeling sad today. Things here are great, but my heart is shrunken. If I were home I would be able to talk to someone about it. If I talk to someone here I just feel like a whinny little brat, but not talking to anyone is making my insides rotten.

France will never be my home....and I feel like I don't really have a home to return to.
What am I going to do with myself? a sad, lonely girl with no country....

Poem

Delayed gratification
an idea, caged
lust clings to my blood
sweaty legs on a vinyl chair
dim green light reflected
in the truck stop window

Travel always causes longing
highway delays
miles obscure your face
I imagine perfection
but cannot put it in focus

The things I dream for you
pull thread lose from seams
from space and place
I dream you here
I dream me there

Delayed gratification
the wait
counting minutes on a clock
with the second hand broken off
it's metal turning on
jagged little nub

The early morning light rises
night insects swarm the bulb
wanting
drawn in by unknown
irresistible
comforting

Is there space enough for
me, sitting in a parking lot
I buy tickets west, they give me paper cuts
running
to or away? but always running.

every answer in my head
with questioning reasons
when will I see you again?

Can't get you out of my head...

a hahahahahahahaha














Got Ya!!!!!

Love Letter

State of California
GOVERNOR'S OFFICE
SACRAMENTO 95814

RONALD REAGAN
GOVERNOR

My Darling Wife

This note is to warn you of a diabolical plot entered into by some of our so called friends - (ha!) calendar makers and even our own children. These and others would have you believe we've been married 20 years.

20 minutes maybe - but never 20 years. In the first place it is a known fact that a human cannot sustain the high level of happiness I feel for more than a few minutes - and my happiness keeps increasing.

I will confess to one puzzlement but I'm sure it is just some trick perpetrated by our friends - (Ha again!) I can't remember ever being without you and I know I was born more than 20 mins ago.

Oh well - that isn't important. The important thing is I don't want to be without you for the next 20 years, or 40, or however many there are. I've gotten very used to being happy and I love you very much indeed.

Your Husband of 20 something or other.

proud and strange

"I need a way to measure the distance.
I need a way to say why,
out of breath or out of key, her voice resonated in me.
Wish on everything
Pray that she remains proud and strange and so hopelessly hopeful."


I pray I remain proud and strange and so hopelessly hopeful.

another lifetime

I found my old poetry website I had with some friends in high school "A field of frozen daises"
http://www.angelfire.com/indie/afieldoffrozendaisys/poetry.html

here are some of the poems I wrote on it!

Butterfly Tears

I tried to sculpt your portrait,
But I left out the eyes,
The sockets turned to wings,
From a quixotic butterfly.
My intentions started good,
Yet when the coloring was done,
The wings came out like mud,
Not a brightly colored sun.
The turbid pools of glass,
Worked of their own accord,
I tried to mold what I wanted,
But it couldn't be controlled.
When I looked upon your face at last,
I saw the distance that I'd feared,
I lied to myself about who you were,
Now unseen eyes cry unseen tears.

Perfection in Deception

Perfect isn't perfect
Because you're everything I wanted
But not what I need

And perfect isn't perfect
When perfect leaves me void of feeling
Waiting to be freed

Cause sometimes broken just feels right
And I long to fall to jagged pieces
To be shattered glass in flight

Because a vase isn't hollow
When its insides are exposed

And what the hell is beauty
Without a little flaw
A chip, or crack, or something
To make me real and raw

So don't try to glue me back together
You'll be left with a bruised and empty shell
Just let me lay in broken pieces
Scattered on the floor

Because perfect isn't perfect
And if you leave me now, I'll only want you more

A Gift For a Steppenwolf

I gave you a book
To chart out your thoughts
Made of thin pieces of paper
With lines drawn out
I added some pictures
And transferred photographs
So when you opened it up
My eyes would stare back
Then you'd take one long look
And see all that you lacked
You would know who you needed
For your other half
But no, your life is traced out
Along maps from the past
You're a wolf of the Steppes
And we can never go back

Irrational Fear of Nakedness

I cringe when I see him enter
close my eyes and stifle a bought of nervous laughter
I try to remain cool
act like it doesnt phase me
I see him do this all the time, right?
there's nothing vulgar about it, its only natural
God, I really wish it did'nt phase me
I hate being taken by suprise
but, even if I had know what was coming
I would'nt have known how to react
I have lived too much of a sheltered life for that
but it is the life that I chose
I could have made it more difficult,
learned something along the way,
but somehow diliberatly causing difficulty felt like a copout
like my pain would never be as legitimate as everyone else's
and so his naked body caught me off guard
and I sat there
trying to keep from giggling like a school girl
all the while wishing that I was somebody else
as another moment passed me by

I stole this....but it is true....sooooo....

"Where Does The Good Go"

Where do you go with your broken heart in tow
What do you do with the left over you
And how do you know, when to let go
Where does the good go, where does the good go
Look me in the eye and tell me you don't find me attractive
Look me in the heart and tell me you won't go
Look me in the eye and promise no love's like our love
Look me in the heart and unbreak broken, it won't happen
It's love that leaves and breaks the seal of always thinking you would be
Real, happy and healthy, strong and calm, where does the good go
Where does the good go
Where do you go when you're in love and the world knows
How do you live so happily while I am sad and broken down
What do you say it's up for grabs now that you're on your way down
Where does the good go, where does the good go

foreheads forethought

two thin lines
balanced on skin
freckled flesh
pressed like tin

glancing blows
added up
lie like whiskey
in a cup

worlds held
upon broken heads
as twisted ankles
kick the dead

when did worries
get so hard
that they now leave little
paper thin scars?

So this is the new year....

Reading back over my old posts I have noticed a trend towards the macabre. This is not ok. It worked well for the Adams Family and Beetle Juice, but I look better in a slightly more Monty Python emotional wardrobe. Why must I be so doom and gloom? My life is pretty swell, I might even say it is the bee's knees. So...

My New Year's resolution: Love life, love people, love me.
This is all encompassing. In shorthand my New Year's resolution is LOVE. I will even love the doom and gloom moments that make me want to retreat inside myself and drag my inner Emo out by it's bleeding heart tattoo. I am pretty darn fantastic and so are all the people in my life. This year, and every year from here on out, I will enjoy them more. What is life without love, and what is love without life? WE (and this is where you come in) will spend every moment enjoying exactly what we are doing. WE will do all of those little things that we have always wanted to find time for, but somehow never managed to do. School and work are meaningful, and maybe even fulfilling, but the really important things in life are moments. So this year I am going to have billions of moments, and I want you to be a part of them. If you are game, please join me. I don't want this to be my best year, I want every year to be better than the last.

I love everyone of you with every inch of my being!!!!

build me up, butter cup

I feel down. Really low. Like my life is a bit out of control. My insides are all messed up in knots. I don't live up to my own expectations. I don't live up to others' expectations.

How is it that one event, one stupid silly event, can cause me to get so down on myself? I wanted to write a New Years blog that was about promise and hope that this would be my year. I want to run away. I always want to run. The problem is that I can't run away from myself.

I'm 2 seconds away from driving west and watching the sun rise over the plains.

Procrastination Poem

Tonight I have nothing witty to write.
I spent hours today ignoring my life,
fortifying a planter
for dead and dry twigs,
I learned to make match books
from payphones and kids.
Now I sit on this homework
and I twist it around,
as my options fall empty,
and with nary a sound
they pick up all the puzzles
found in paperback books,
look round at the payphones
and give them sad looks.
For only sons know their mothers
will soon be undone,
and an answer is no use
without proper questions.
so find time to know freedom,
and lessen your haste,
and always remember
to let children eat paste.

tweet

I don't tweet.







Deal with it.

momma said

you just have to wait.

Sphinx Moth Picture Shows

I sit here sweating. The heat of this house has reached inside me and forced me out. Life has been giving me the things I told it I wanted. I was not specific enough.

Mondays always surprise me. I end up places before I realize I have left. Today I found myself inside my head. I must have climbed through a window to get there. I know I didn't open any doors.

I was sitting in the grass watching my life unfold on the flitting wings of a sphinx moth. I told him he was beautiful. He didn't notice how much more I could see in him than all the other people. They walked by without noticing. I knew he was more than just wings.

His interest in me was slightly more than lackluster. He used me as a sounding board for dreams about flying. But when it came to falling, he wasn't willing to take the leap. At least not with me. At least not yet.

This made me retreat even farther into myself. But I still left all the windows open, just in case something happened to fall in. Instead there were knocks at the door. The peep hole showed me traveling salesmen that never traveled. In every instance they received a humbling "I'm not interested" and backed their gas fed beast off my land.

Still I wait. My beautiful moth has not returned. He no longer shows views of my dreams on his wings. He never really did. I imagined them there. He has picture shows playing of another girl's dreams. He will always be willing to leap for her. She showed him there is nothing to fear from falling.

Maybe Tuesday he will fly out of her window and fall into mine. We will watch our own picture show unfold.

slow down, there aint no reason to run

I'm feeling this weird emotion right now. A kind of happy sad alive feeling. I don't know if I should dance or cry. There is something about fall that makes everything seem possible. I feel like I could create magic if I tried. I also feel lonely. I like to separate myself from the world and look in on it like I am viewing my own life on TV. Right now I am missing all the connections in my life that are possible and I push away.

I really want to fall in love. It is harder than it looks.

I really want to write songs.

I miss all of the people in my life that slipped into my heart and out of this state. I know some brilliantly wonderful people that I haven't seen in longer than I can justify. Some people make me realize I am alive. I need them near to me.

I think some of my happiest times in life have been when I was helping to make music. When Magdalena's Tea House first opened we would sit for hours making up songs together. I met some of my favorite people there.

I remember visiting Mackinaw Island one summer with my friend Chris. Our friend Matt was working there that summer. The 3 of us road bikes all over the island late into the night, beers in the bike baskets and a guitar on Chris' back. We lay on our backs in the sand looking up at the stars, singing. I wish it could have lasted forever. It is still the best memory I have. I won't ever forget.

I need these people in my life more. I need people who get me, who know where I have been, and have been there with me. What has this world come to when the people you love are the ones you see the least? I want to be on stage with Chris tonight singing. I am feeling the pain of lonely, and the joy of love. together. all at once.

love thy neighbor as thy self

I've been thinking a lot lately about trying to be a good Christian. I wouldnt even call myself a Christian if someone asked my religion, but I do believe in the basic message of the religion. I feel like there is so much negativity surrounding Christianity in today's society (well, all religions really). The true underlying message of religion is love, and love for those who do you wrong and others wrong. Instead of religion spreading this message of love, I see it spreading a message of hate. My new goal is to be the best REAL Christian I can be. I am going to find ways to love people that hurt me, and love people I disagree with, and love people I can't stand. If we all got to know our enemies, I believe that we would have no enemies left. After all, there is no self. Deep down we are all one.

Tired

I'm dead tired, but I'm happy. My first day of the new semester went well. As did my first official day at the new job. However, I can already tell that tuesdays are going to be my new monday. I'm on campus from 9am-8:30 pm with nary a break in between. The one plus to this long of a day is the way my bed is going to feel in 57 seconds when I am absorbed into it's pillowy softness. ahhhhhhhhhh......bed.

mes petites chattons

I love and miss all my cats. I like the company of a being that doesn't judge and doesn't notice any difference if I roam the house in my underwear. Being loved by someone that only asks for cuddles and food in return is nice. Plus, cats are an instant bed warmer. I miss having a warm body next to me while I sleep.