in the dark

and then there are those
dark and lonely moments
when confessions are
ripe for the hearing
do i want to
pick up the phone and
hear that one voice
that will make it
all go away
i want to call
i want to apologize
i want to cry and
beg
please
forgiveness
i want to say
i take it back
i will take
what i can get
but i was the one
that made this choice
i was the one that
chose her health over all
...it was me...
and now i am aching
from the gaping hole
in my chest
that i opened up
the hole that can
only be filled by what
i can't ever have

***

and where are the ones to keep me from the road i want so badly to go down?
everyone is unavailable...this is why i keep my shit to myself...

by definition

It's been playing over and over in my head, this being called "self-indulgent" and being accused of "emotional masturbation".
Of course, being the person that I am, I looked up the meanings to these words.
Self-Indulgence is a noun meaning giving into one's desires, passions, whims etc, without restraint.
I looked up Emotional Masturbation but there is no real definition. So I looked them up separately.
Emotional is an adjective pertaining to or involving emotion, which, of course, is any strong agitation of the feelings actuated by experiencing love, hate, fear, etc., and usually accompanied by certain physiological changes, as increased heartbeat or respiration, and often overt manifestation, as crying or shaking.
Masturbation, a noun, meaning the stimulation or manipulation of one's own genitals, esp. to orgasm; sexual self-gratification.
So, by definition "Emotional Masturbation" is the stimulating of one's actuated feelings resulting in self-gratification...?
NONE of this, as I can see is bad.
As a human, and a female of the species, I am an emotional being. Add to that an artist and you will find that it isn't easy to put the 2 into different boxes. On better days, I am able to pick some stuff up and leave other things behind when my heart isn't involved...but when my heart becomes attached to something, or someone, and it is tossed aside or pushed away for some other thing that doesn't make sense in this life or the next, then all bets are off.

i always hated that song that goes: "tears on my pillow...pain in my heart caused by yoo-ou..." i thought it was a dumb song. i still hate the song and i don't think it's any less retarded, but i understand it better today.
i woke up this morning at 7a and wandered around my apartment for a few minutes then i got back in the bed and slept until 11a. i called my cousin because i was to help her move today, but i can't face it today. she was telling me about he new joint and i realized that there were tears on my face. i had been crying in my sleep. a friend of mine told me that my behaviour lately has been self-indulgent, emotional masturbation...but what is it called when you are unconscious? i would love to hear the answer to that one. my cousin saw the pictures i took of myself last week and posted.

Cousin: I want to take pictures of you again
Me: God, I don't feel like it Ki.
C: No, listen I saw your post with all of those pictures you took of yorself on the couch..
M: yeeeaaa
C: There is something in your eyes that wasn't there before
M: ruin?
C: No. C'mon...

i went back and looked at the post she was talking about, and i even mentioned it there is something different about the eyes. i can't pin it down...
ENNY-WAY
this guy that i have known for sometime called me he'd been in the streets since i woke up the first time, we were supposed to meet this afternoon, but he's got errands to run out on the island, but then as we were talking, he thought he might come out anyway. and i think i would like to see him, his energy is what i need to get my mind off of this trip it's been on these last few.

i have been
sleeping around the
pieces of a
broken heart
the only certain thing
is that i still breathe
and i ache

an ache

he said

like a beautiful scar
the sadness on your face

---

today my friend said to me that a broken heart is like surgery that you did not consent to. she's right.
i wake up everyday choosing to be all right and for about 8 minute after i get up, i am - i'm fine. but then i get moving inside of my day and it comes crashing back the hole in my chest.

facing east

coming home from another long one...i never noticed the "school xing" on my street, it must be new.
been feelig unwell, heavy and stiff...tired but i can't get to sleep. thinking things i shouldn't unless i'm going to do them...my heart hurts and i can't make it go away for anything...

my ipod

my ipod is conspiring against me.
my faith in en has been shaken down to the ground...but finally i realize that it's not me. really
i'm completey woman, i am loving, kind, smart, funny...everything a man would want yet the only thing that i think is missing is some catastrophic damage that could wear on my sleeve as a badge to say: "yes, i am broken somehow, please come fix me." that attracts men like flies to shit.
whatever...
last night my friend gave a nugget of advice before he left town. he said: "if you take care of yourself, you glow. you glow and everyone wants to know what it's about and you attract the very things you want. so, honey, take care of yourself."
he's right.
so that's nothing to do with my ipod and how it's trying to kill me.
i have a list of 600 songs that i have on shuffle and it seems to only want to play the sad ones...over and over...ugh!
the other thing is i was talking to a good friend of mine the other day and i startedto realize something...why people commit suicide.
but i will get into that on the next post...maybe a bit later.

love it

all that i am
is more than
words
hanging from the tip
of this pen
given to me
by a lover
with the truth
in his heart
and pens to spare...




i have been staring at this poem a few days now. the handwritten version has been sitting on my desk since i wrote it and i keep thinking that i need to do somethingt to it, but every time i get to it i feel like this poem is the most perfect poem i've written to date.
i mean, i happen to think they're all great, but this one...even if, somewhere down the line, the point of the poem becomes moot, i honestly beieve it will still hold up.
anyhow, i have submitted this particular poem to the very bad poetry web site i hope they think it's bad enough - ha! the poem i submitted before almost didn't make it...go fig.

3 things i seek...

i read somewhere that the great sufi poet Jalal al-Din Rumi would have his students make a list of 3 things they sought and if any of those items on the list clashed there would be unhappiness.
i have been thinking about it and i seek 3 things: peace, love and a home. in no particular order...just those are the thins i want most.
now, i didn't want to put just anything up there without first researching them a little bit even thought these are very basic concepts and the meanings are abundantly clear...these words have distinct meaning for each individual...of course my meanings will expand once i find more or expand on the subjects more.

peace"the state or condition of restfulness, harmony, balance, equilibrium, longevity, justice, resolution, timelessness, contentment, freedom, and fulfillment, either individually or simultaneously present, in such a way that it overcomes, demolishes, banishes, and/or replaces everything that opposes it" : a freedom of the mind from distraction, annoyance anxiety or an obsession : tranquily : serenity...loveto need or require : the instinct by which one's actions are directed to the promotions of one's own welfare or well-being : as an abstract conept love usually refers to a deep feeling os tender care for someone other than yourself that goes far beyond words...homeanyplace of refuge : the place where one's domestic affections are centered...

cowboys & angels

a poem for you

i am not yours
i said
- unbelievably -
i am not yours some how
and yet
i want to be
standing here
alone as i am
the most dangerous thing
full of life and pain
as i am
and what emotions bring
pull in me close
and push me away
all at one time
i am not yours i say
and you
won't be mine
and now is finished
what once was
i cannot
win it back
i will go search
to find
the damages i lack




this is something that i just rattled off in response to the distress i have been feeling the last few days. what kills me most is that it rhymes and ha a definite rhythm to it. i never rhyme anything.
i want to say that it's just me being a woman, but there are certain contributing factors and parties, that have added 3 fold to what's going on inside of me causing me serious moments of self-doubt.
but you see, i know i was the one to put myself into this hole and now i have to dig myself out. a friend told me tonight that i won't get over this for a while and that i should use the time wisely by creating. and i know he is aboso-smurfly right; i need to finish up the paintings i have here and i should get my words on paper and out of my head, but i cannot face it. i need to spend time getting out of my own head and work on getting better and i know this, but i just can't.
i was told tonight that i was self-indulgent...as if it's a bad thing.
my argument is: who else will do it?
ah, whatever...i am just tired...i have a shot of rum with a beer back waiting for me right now. i need a quick ride into temporary oblivion tonight and i definitely plan on indulging myself with that.

I gave up on new poetry myself thirty years ago,
when most of it began to read like coded messages
passing between lonely aliens on a hostile world.
Russell Baker

reign over me

me.

so i was sitting on my couch flipping through the channels, i swear there hasn't been anything on tv worth the price i'm paying the cable company for this particular form of enertainment for a few weeks, but woe be unto me should i decide to take away some of the services.
...but i digress...
there i was sitting on my couch flipping through the channels when suddenly the sun came out and reflected off the windows across the street into my window right into my eyes. nice light. bit bright, but really nice. i grabbed my digi cam and dashed off a few self-portraits.
it's my eyes. they're the same eyes. but i dunno...
later...

...BZZZZZ...

There is a big and fat lazy fly hanging out in my apartment.
I guess I could kil him, but he's not bothering me. I mean, I did try in the beginning, but I guess I'm too fat and lazy to be chasing an insect around my house. I figure: well he ain't bothering me, I ain't gonna bother him. I will let him live out his days in the relative comfort of my house until he passes on and i find the dried husk of his carcass someplace...
Too bad men aren't like that...

...in the name of...

i can honestly say that in all of my years on this earth i have never been in love. i thought i was in love when i was 12. his name was david flemming and i was struck. it was a long time before i felt like that again - long time = 2 days ago. (i'm in my late 30's)
the point is i have no idea how to look for it, where it is, how to get if i found it.
like i said, i thought i found love, but the love i thought was one thing i had mistaken for something else.
and that there, my friends is the story of my friggin' life.

Chicago Bound

well, for only a few days - 2 whole ones in total. which averages out to more time than i have actually spent in that particular city in the last 19 years. i'm kind of excited. nervous. i called the lady at the reservation desk in the hotel i'm staying in twice now...she told me about my room, i have what amounts to a one bedroom apartment. kitchen included. i plan on going to see jack keruac's original scroll and to the museum of contemporary art.
today, friend ammeree called me to tell me that she'd gotten into a fist fight with a woman on the street. the woman punched her in the eye. i swear if it had been me, i would still be standing on that woman's chest. at 8.30am you don't have anything better to do than to pick fights with little people?? and friend ammeree is very little!
i have no idea what it is, but for the last 8 years or so i have been spoiling for a fight. i real good knock down drag out ass-kickin' fight. and it's only gotten worse since i've been living in the city. but no one starts with me. i guess i give off that vibe of "PLEASE LET IT BE TODAY SO I CAN SMOKE YOUR ASS." i dunno.
punched the girl in the eye...she spent all day in medical care for the eye. i can't believe it.

i'm going to go pack.

i'm sorry - what?

dinner tonight with the girls and i had so much on my mind. it'll all be better by the end of the week, one way or another. =|

if not this...then what?

i used this picture once before in another post - it means "woman poet".

i find myself in the curious position of watching my mouth. normally i say what i want, when i want - of course employing my powers of wit disguised as tact. however, as i said, people are watching what i say so i am trying to keep my own counsel on number of topics...ever careful not to give up secrets, break hearts, reveal truths that no one wants to face...
aw that's a load of carp (and i mean the fish).
i am a writer. and what am i, as a writer if i don't shine light on that which no one will? i gotta talk about it.
and i will...
in another post!
HA!!

who i really am...

the rising sun offers
a welcomed farewell
to another bad night
filled with
too many dreams and
not enough you
it is a terrible wind that
blows you from my heart
leaving me
with too many spaces
in my soul to fill
trying to figure out how
to just be without you
i am so tired
i want so badly to
be the girl i was
before we met
before i became
a woman with a past and
secrets to hide
before i started to wonder
who i really am or
where i belong and
what if this
is who i am
whole and incomplete
all at once
not accepting that
this is all there is to
this life

why you crying?

i haven't had much to say and i haven't had cause to whip my camera out and snap a few shots of this or that. i guess i could just kind of force myself to, but i subscribe to the belief that if you force something you love, to do it becomes a job and therefore no longer a joy to do...
however, according to scritti politti:

...Careless talk costs more than you bargained for
In seventh heaven
If a thing's worth doing, it's worth doing badly baby

it's true, i shouldn't be self-conscious about the things that i do, if i do them well or not. it's all a part of creating, isn't it?
anyway i have been working on a few poems and working on my 3rd publication...actually, if i were to count it properly it would be my 6th or 7th publication...ms.'d opportunities being my most professional endeavor. anyway this last will be a showcase for my shutterbug tendencies and my poetic prowess. some of the poetry in the book i will pull from other projects. i'm thinking maybe 20 poems and 20 photos, snaps and otherwise.
speaking of snaps - i had my photos done last week. let me tell you they came out fabulous. it took 2 days and about 5 outfit changes, including in the buff (to a point), to finish. it was fun not being the one to give the directions. i tried to remember everything i taught my models about posing and i was completely unsuccessful. i don't take direction well, i was stiff or the first 10 or 15 shots. i laugh too much and i always want to put my hands on my hips. ha!
so i include one of the shots i like a lot. it's odd and, of course, there are literally hundreds more to choose from, but i like this one a lot. if you want to see more...then sucks to be you! =D