30.9.09

and i'm creeping, until
your back bleeds,
and your eyes staple
themselves shut.
i hide in my pocket.
and digital blush.
publish my inconsistencies
in ink on my ribs
roll me out
fleshy papyrus
and read me aloud
the stage will shatter
and i will dance in tiny pieces in
between the ridges in your fingers
because you are
all new and
i cannot move my lungs

i wrote today...

past time museum romantic

insects shut her lids
mechanically blinking her oval
opals
broken beer glass falls from her
eyes, green, blue and brown
like on the shore
slitting cheeks as it falls
thumbelina brings the blind mice
in on the handicapped van
and pack the recyclable material
you are jealous the
fairy tales get more
of her than you
her bug gutted blood painted
skinny skin face stretches to your
fingertips
you pick up a wrench
and demote yourself.
you'll let her stay for an hour
you've always wanted red linens.

29.9.09

poem i just wrote

untitled 1

faded people flipping

through paper mache picture books
to compare my insect legs
to their modest stock market
crash dolls
and their Nixon midriffs
but my cardigan smells more historic
so I write you a letter in
crayon, sea foam green

and melt it down
using aged nostrils as my seal
p.s. love, write back
quickly, the baby is buried
in the pumpkins and
oxygen is scarce











taken by s.sleevi

real life today

i had an amazing day at my internship and yet my chest still feels like it is being crushed and my lungs burn. i don't understand how i can be so upset. i just want someone to talk to. an ear to press to my lips so i can lick their skin with my excited words. i had such a good day and yet i sit on my computer watching myself cry on a crap webcam because it makes me feel human and its almost like having someone to share my emotions with. i just want to tell someone about how well today went, and how great i am doing at this agency, and how much they love me there. and i want someone to be excited for me, and proud of me, and genuinely interested in it.
but that's asking for too much..




i want to always be on film. to be caught in the cut coffee sober.
-why?

my type

how do i manage to become so over invested in someone who is barely there. a faint outline of a potential. a whispered type. my heart beats fast and my breath aches. dressed as a nerd because it is the trend on my skin. my eyes bleed and i pour the third cup of black down my throat. it satisfies nothing. how did i let the so unknown become so important. why do i care? and yet i am lying and wishing that i could ventriloquist your ass and force your lips into the 'N' and wait for you to understand.

28.9.09

daydreaming

and it's scary. i think the week of serious insomnia is taking its toll. i have adjusted to the shaking, because i do that all the time anyways, but after being up until 4 or 5am every day and rising at 8 or 9 to start my day, my body is turning on me.
i am daydreaming, while functioning, horrible awful dreams. day-nightmaring. i am walking down stairs and i see myself trip and bust my mouth open. i can taste the hot metallic in my mouth like sucking on a warm nickel. i feel the fragmented enamel dancing on my tongue and the flesh that was my lips tear and swell. but i am standing and there is no blood. there was no fall.
i am crying from the pain and the ugly words you spit as you walk out my door, leaving me. taking with you the laughter and the solace. but i don't know you. we haven't met, you're face is a blur and we haven't loved yet.

newest poem

fix your floral bow tie

you're top hat is too
tight and you're uvula is knocking
against the knick neck
the drugs are failing you
and the trip becomes
bloated until the beer settles
into your cardigan buttons
bet on
the painted mullet
laughs into the leather interior
of her thighs
the vein swells bluebad
mad across the bridge of my nose
and she with her fine leather
and new car smell
carries steel on her face
and mescaline in your pocket
scratch me until i can live under
your nails
and burrow into you
creeping like pin worms
but your sandbox litter
races the rental
where the midget makes love
to the flaming angel
with a tuna in the
thirty pound purse
til the lesbian curses
you with beer cans
lets go swimming until
the trumpets end
carry her back to the
dealer and take your cash
for clunky bait slut
the doctoral dancer leaves
her string on the yellow line
and leash the swine
for the shower.

leaf lap

it's fall today and i welcome its spine pricked, winter licked winds on my neck. the smell is familiar and chilling like your grandmother's fresh baked bread the morning of her wake.

i saw a yellow cruiser today, chained to a mcdonalds, begging to be straddled. it made me miss reBIKEah a lot. i need to fix rhonda so I can go for long bike rides now that it is beautiful and cool out.

27.9.09

and so

i am not sure how i feel about the readings the other night. two of the actors did an amazing job performing three of my pieces. however, the performance of the final piece i had submitted, almost brought me to tears i was so angry with how it was done. i guess the one good thing is that i've come to the agreement that i need to be reading my own work so that people can hear my words how i meant for them to be heard.
lately i have been feeling split. like i am only living a half-lived life. the other half just drags behind me, unexplored, like peter pan's shadow sewn to his shoe. i need to stop grasping onto what the shoulds say and start taking what is wanted. reality needs to come home so i can stop living in what never was.

written 5.24.09:

company lost at the amputation
the drawer knob
next to the blue postage stamp
i cry into its corner
and close it on the sprout
i eat you in two bites
no need for the process of mastication
masturbation
like eggs sunny side up
where the whistles
become wall paper
and the man slides
his head through the gate
and coughs the gravel back
into the cement foot holes
under my carpet
laid by the woman
while girls cradled lost arms
and bookends creep away
her despair smelled like exhaust.

24.9.09

your mouth my words

tonight is the night of the poetry out loud performance. 4 of my poems will be read aloud on stage by actors. i am really not sure how i feel about it. i am really excited. i am hoping josh, the professor who taught my poetry class and got me writing again, got my email and is going to come. i think bungyecca is going with me. i am going to rush straight from my internship so i can make it in time. i think i would be more excited if the ones that inspired me where here, or if i could share this with someone who really cared and was excited for me.

the lonely crept from under the bed
even though you checked the closet
its prying off my toenails with your hangers
and eating me from the ankles up
i call your name and you
don't turn
your eyes slide to the back
of your haired skull
blink blink
turned away
my knees are gnawed
stomach acid tickles my toes
i hold onto your discard hat
and tear the seams
i am alone
and devoured

22.9.09

words to define

lips can't form the desperate words
and the pages are eaten
from webster's hands.
tragic is a pity until
you hate it most
and no one seems to know
chaotic hopelessness
but the porcelain lips eat
your bucket list and the pail.
the bear carries the pulse away
and you abandon his paw
and yet you find that you are I
and am clinging to the fur.

21.9.09

drunken daytimes

had a crazy weekend. a lot of fun with a lot of strange emotions, though. saw defiance, ohio and this bike is a pipe bomb and had an amazing time.

18.9.09

positive

my poetry is going to be featured in a staged poetry reading production. which means, I submitted my work for review. four pieces were picked. so there will be actors on stage, reading my work aloud for an audience. i am really kind of excited and anxious about it. like butterflies with razorblades for wings are hanging out in my abdomen. i think i would be happier if i had someone who i could call that would be excited and want to come with me to see the performance.

17.9.09

cant spread the news

so the day passes and i am aged and empty like the last drops in a bottle of wine that no one wants to look desperate enough to suck at. you manage to weasel in when you are most hated and slide through the floor boards as soon as you're desired. i am begging of the clouds or the grass or the sand, let it be done. i am ready for the new. introductions are well overdue. just dig out the last of the shrapnel from my bloody disheveled back, and drop it into his bag. i am ready to accept a feeling or a word.


shouldbetwin


truest


life on blur

9.9.09

letters to "you"

dear stupid man on the bus,
thank you for chatting away on your handsfree headset. thank you, for one, for being so self-involved that you really need to be on a handsfree headset to chitchat with some random friend of nothing of consequence. Moreover, thank you for picking your nose blatantly and then wiping it on the seat while on your handsfree headset. And once more, thank you for being just so with it that you cannot even manage to figure out how to properly wear your handsfree headset. You are a winner; a key member of society. Thank you for letting me grace your large-nostriled presence, I am humbled.

dear elderly woman on the the bike trail riding a child's bike,
your purple and teal sparkle magic bike, pedaling so slow on the trail, in your classic yellow pants and your hanging bingo wings creates that combination that is undeniably awesome. You win.

dear human resource department,
thank you for being so talented at your job that you can manage to lose time cards. I am thrilled at the fact that I will not be getting my paycheck for last pay period. How did you know I really just wanted to have to wait another two weeks before I get paid for all that work? I really am grateful for this lesson in patience. Oh, and your phone manners-impeccable! Listening skills are a ten, even though you couldn't understand my last name after I spelled it 5 times. Keep up the good work. Cancel those extra training sessions you were considering, unnecessary.

7.9.09

skinny love

there was a sign posted on an electrical box on michigan ave in downtown chicago. written in permanent marker on bright blue paper was an email address at the top. then two lines from the bon iver song, then a heart, and another email address at the bottom.

i won't ever have that. it's time to accept it, and move on. it's so far gone. no horizon in sight.

i told you to be patient
i told you to be fine
i told you to be balanced
i told you to be kind
now all your love is wasted?
then who the hell was i?
now i'm breaking at the britches
and at the end of all your lines
who will love you?
who will fight?
who will fall far behind?

5.9.09

another new poem

satisfactory for you

hey! i found your perfect life. just thought I'd let you know. the friends, the job, the girl. i found it. you won't come for it because you think you've done it wrong. but it exists. don't waiver in the belief that it is there. but pray for your soul because your pride will fight you down, and it will always be a glimpse of what you should be in a frame. the view is bro
ken like my glasses after you step on them, hanging from one side of my face with webs on the lenses. i wish you wouldn't see it through that forever. let me know when your done sewing martyr to your t-shirt and I'll see what i can do. there may not be much left. i am breaking at the ankles and falling to paper shreds. find me before i am trapped in the office vacuum. find me before i let them eat me whole. find me before i abandon your abandonment. the walks alone in the drunken mornings are ugly at best. the bus keeps crawling up my thigh and i can't seem to hold my skirt down. the fabric sweats into bleeding crayons and i hate you for letting me alone.

4.9.09

my newest poem, I don't know how I feel about it, but it's me writing so that's an improvement:



your character and my bedside alarm

dump on me one more time
and fold your eyelids
you will be my favorite page
with the flaming skies and frozen
jaw stuck between a frown and a scream
blind and pisscovered i swallow you whole
living under my arm, i scoop you out
into the back of the toilet
a strange bird you are
with scaly arms not quite wings
you pull me under with you
when you don't want me
i wish to quit this
but the computer show
roars on in my cerebellum
whisper the headline past my neck
you lied to __
and __ knew it
__ held you anyway
the travelling puppet show explodes
into a coma induced laughter show
in your extra 20 lbs you found brilliance
and that ticket stub i handed you
that page, favorite of all, with charcoal
finger paths smudge on the teeth
i am __
and you are devoured
wishing away the hunger pains

3.9.09

resurrection

i have avoided internet for most of the summer; trying to stay busy as possible leaves you with little time to sit on the computer. finally back up in chicago after a weird, but great summer in cincinnati. i am realizing how much i actually do love some aspects of that city and that as much as it frustrates me, something keeps pulling me back to it. starting an amazing internship here in the city, working with some amazing individuals who really make me inspired to do the work i am doing. i love the visitors; playdates (or play-weekends) are so much fun with friends from back home.
the loneliness is there but not overwhelming me yet. its a weird sort of split personality thing i have going on lately. i am trying really hard to find a way to incorporate my poetry into my life and my work now, and I am finding it harder than it was before. i also hate the lack of creativity I have been feeling lately. the summer was definitely devoid of much writing or painting. it makes me feel a lot emptier than i used to feel.


best pals playing in cincinnati


friend time at the beach


blast from the past visitors


my dangerous love affair


me in my cafe home away from home