Sunday, May 17, 2015


I feel like I haven't created anything in a very long time 
I've been very concerned with money lately
Like a factory worker
I'm not just a worker bee
I'll write your copy and story lines and headlines for no byline
But money 
Is never what I wanted 
Nor has ever been my motivation 
I've always found my way astonishingly 
Being myself
Star like air like carefree 
Caring that's when things become real
And the problem with real is that my real is not yours
Nor yours mine 
We cannot just be passive observers in a world that has no direction
A moment towards more 
And excess 
Until we are too full fat and happy 
That we are unable to move 
To speak
To think
If this is comfort I say I don't want it
Burn the pillows of defeat
Do not rest your head
But let it fall like a heavy tree
From exhaustion
Because the cut is too deep
Let yourself be uncomfortable
Trimmed down to the bone 
Purge the fullness and tiredness 
I fell asleep in a loud theatre and knew then that
Something must be wrong 
What happened to that slim, shrewd girl
Who would do and try and be anything once 
Had she been all she would be
What was left for her 
When she was on the brink of dying she felt most alive
And now living a life 
She felt the most near death 

Tuesday, April 14, 2015


Almost one year ago to the date exactly,
But in another year and in another life,
She remembered a tiny stream of consciousness
When she was single and not yet a wife,

A place where she wrote down anything
To an audience, loyal and few
Rekindling a need in herself,
She sits and types something new.


She still has something left to say,
Or a feeling left to feel,
To know her breath, hair, skin and bones
Are alive, well and real

Not to loose track of things she's thought
So many now, in all these days,
So many voice, places, tastes
But only so many ways
To love.

a woman's work is never done 

Saturday, April 5, 2014


I thought she was weak when she fell into his arms but when I found arms to fall into, I understood. 

Sunday, September 22, 2013


Everyone has a sound.
No I don't mean a voice
I mean 
a sound. 
The sound of a person. You don't hear it right away though, not like an introduction in an exchange of hands and names, but a sound, or sounds rather.
The sounds are almost rhythmic too, like patterns.
Every person has a sound or several sounds and if you can decipher them from each other, you can know just who's walked into the house, who is using the bathroom, who is in the kitchen. 
The pace of her walking, across the hall, sounds different than mine and he,
knows them both, so well. 
The person has a presence also, and if you are very good, you may not even need listen to the sounds of the person to tell who it is that's there without seeing them.
You just feel them.
She felt different than I,
we both, for him, felt the same. 
It was like this, sounds and sounding in silence. Silences' sound a thick and noiseless layer that is the loudest of all except when interrupted by sounds both familiar and un ---
Could you imagine in a city as noisy and congested as this,
you could hear some nights, the rattle of the laundry machine, a near by shower, the sizzling ash of this three quarter smoked cigarette in the rain. 
The rain. I can hear the rain. 
Sometimes what I think I hear is the sound of passionate breath between breathless kisses is really just a leaking air conditioning unit.
No one makes love quietly any more. At least not in the whispered way that tells me we are the only two people who know we are here and we are the only two people who exist.
Us and our sounds. 
I remember waking up one morning and feeling i could lay there all day long. Is this love? I thought. Or is it just too cold and snowy outside to imagine ever leaving this bed, this embrace?
I would know later, yes, it was love indeed. And that I do like winter. Because beds are warmer then. Or at least they feel warmer.
The sound of sheets. Oh! And then the smell....
Three pigeons come in the morning. For what, I do not know, except that they look perfectly placed and framed in that window, a grey and white speckled alley way, much like their own feathers. 
The pigeons always sound like pigeons , their sometimes amusing coos that sound a lot like cat purrrrs. They will always give themselves away. 

Friday, August 2, 2013


Books Go Any/EveryWhere
books for bed
and books for the train
books for sunshine
and books for the rain
books for tears
and books for smiles
books for road tripped travel miles
books for underlining
books for folding
books for borrowing
big books for holding
a book for leisure
a book for learning
a book for pleasure
a book for journaling 
I yearn to earn enough so that 
I might always have a book upon my lap
a cigarette to smoke and a worthy night cap. 
i could read them all and read them again,
start in the middle or maybe the end
take my money, take my love, my comforts
take my dignity, take my clothes
take my plans, I don't need those
but please dear taker, don't take those 
Books Are Any/EveryThing 
Have a thought and write it down
Then take a walk around downtown
Relate the lesson to the life that's
Pulsing by your bedside 
On page forty-five
And sentence two
The place, the word that reminded me of you. 
fuck me fuck me fuck me. 
to crossed eyes and sore thighs so that I can't read any more
And until the only thing that would sober my sexed brain
Is a book. 
Is a four letter word.

Monday, July 22, 2013


It's time to shed
That pillbox red
White white white 
Why'd shed auto correct to she'd?
A past tense of herself
She was already leaving her dead skin
feeling the wind and the sun and the stars and the night
For the first time
Thinking a season is only beautiful because it will not last
She'd shed like leaves on a tree
Burnt ones in July
Made to look like autumn 
Time for Springs beginnings
But only after 
A winters sleep. 

Wednesday, July 17, 2013


you can't loose anything when you were nothing to begin with.
the goal is to keep subpar
but never be at zero.
because nothing + nothing = +
but there's nothing to us, if we only have us.

the word/sound "OH!" is so poignant right now.