Give you a ride?
The kangaroo asks.
Why is he drinking?
Another East Midtown creation.
All having the same conversation
About the right way to do things
Given up, holding over
Delayed due to whether
Or not I can cut it.
Alone in a venue, poised.
More concerned with pain
Less concerned with desire.
Enough places to look and I’m
Never settling. Intimidating?
Don’t mess with the quiet one.
I want to go sit cross-legged in the middle of the music.
Capture the brilliance with a thousand words.
A thing observed, changes.
Women are taught to observe themselves monthly.
Men don’t look until something goes wrong.
Yoga helps no matter what.
I’m throwing my own birthday party this year. Sunday September 6 @ the P&H. Come celebrate the impending end of Summer by rocking your face off with great local music. 5$ cover – Be Nice Or Leave. Continue reading Puh Arty
Seeking comfort in solitude is like
Relaxing in a swamp. Sinking into
The universal spirit only few
Share openly. Mind an unwinding spike
Enjoying oneness amid Nature’s Reich
Beautiful insignificant breakthrough.
Super and the ego open anew
The id savoring a odd hunger strike.
Eyes open, lying awake, still in bed
Hand inattentively petting the cat.
Letting thoughts pool at the back of my head.
Less often contemplated on my back
Loneliness is shared by a common thread
Commonly woven through a welcome mat.
There were complaints about the way I’m doing things.
I silenced them.
The choices made are less permanent if you don’t worry about it.
Loyalty is only useful in small gatherings.
I guess I shouldn’t worry about it.
Plenty to go around at family meal time.
No swimming in the genetic pool for me.
No matter how much it matters to me.
Stung by a wasp.
Emotionally punched in the face.
The silence is a refuge
A place where I can’t abuse
even my self.
How dare you
Tell me what.
I do remember.
Paying attention this whole time.
Should I win an Oscar?
Or just
Suspended disbelief.
I know what I want.
Done apologizing.
Because eventually
it WILL kill me
to do it.
Communication
seems complicated
Just need to leave home.
In seventh grade, I sprouted breasts. In the eighth grade, the most eligible boy in my class wanted to go steady with me. I was so excited. My mom and I didn’t relate on much so the scoring of high quality boy attention was prime pre-Prime Time TV conversation.
Mom, can I go to the movies this weekend?
Who with?
Lou.
Lou?
Yeah.
Oh, honey.
What?
You can’t go out with him.
Why not?
You’ll give Pappy a heart attack.
Invited to a Pickwick lake house for the 4th of July weekend – who says no? I vaguely remember adventures on the Tennessee River as a small child. Continue reading Tennessee River
These squinty eyes of mine. They may look glassy. My expression one of cow-brained ignorance.
That’s just what I look like when I can’t hear.
Sometimes the chaos around me is so loud I can’t take it anymore. I just let all noise wash over me and fight my urge to fly.
I want to be there. I want to engage. At some point
the centre cannot hold.
Read the book An Unquiet Mind. There are revelations there.
I’m going back in. See ya on the flip side.