tell me what you see in it

I said I was getting to a place. 

Well I'm here.

Im marveling this big space wondering what to do next.

But ...

I am here. 

wtf, im back. i found my way here again. i have a flashlight this time. i had to crawl through the mucky swampy dirt. but im here. im here. isn't that funny. just hilarious. 


and guess what. i still like poetry. im crazy. insane. 

and guess what else.
im happier. 
i think. right??


the stoned dogs crawl back through the blood.
through the conquered weather, through the wet silk light. 
to disenchanted masters who are not quite dead. 

♥♥

let this be our secret. you're not here. you don't know. 

♥

come on

die with a smile on your face

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spirit, how are you today?

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i need a year off from child caring. i need to write poetry. badly. what is the costs of bearing a child, what is the meaning of it all?



i am tired, something tires me
i once started, baby chub and fresh
my heart beating, a bloody boxed in love
i lost being, i lost course and draw
and i will lose, to, i will lose, you

because i'm tired, i'm in need of sleep
i have given up, i have given in
angry in a lily field with sand
i clench my fists and draw the fire in
but god pokes to keep me breathing.


.

 where is this place? 

.

 who am i now? i dont know. 


some one who..... 

loves more. 


.

 i said i was going somewhere. 


. 

We are ready. We are not ready. People know.

Our house sits on a sinkhole. Our house is the one being swept up in the tornado, the little train-set model house floating helplessly, pathetically around in the howling black funnel. We're weak and tiny. We're Grenada. There are men parachuting from the sky.

We are waiting for everything to finally stop working- the organs and systems, one by one, throwing up their hands- The jig is up, says the endocrine; I did what i could, says the stomach. or what's left of it; We'll get em next time, adds the heart, with a friendly punch to the shoulder.

by Dave Eggers 

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i so desperately need to want to write a poem. *cries* i dont have the time!

i want to move out in the middle of a desert somewhere in a little shed book-shelved with poetry and paper and pens.

i also read an excerpt of the play hamlet. i fell in love with it. i'd like to read the whole play.

i need to get more organized... gee

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