if you lose your pen

and all you find is a broken pencil on the floor
and the pencil has no sharpener
and the sharpener is in the store
and your pocket has no money

and if you look again
and all you find is a black bic
and the bic you need is green

and if it appears beneath the mattress of your couch
and the couch is dirty and suddenly you want to clean
beneath the pillows
but you have no vacuum and the vacuum is in the store
and your pocket has no money

it is not your pen you are looking for

it is your tongue and those who speak with it
your grandmothers and doves and ebony spiders
hovering at the corners of your throat

it is your tongue
and if you cannot find your tongue
do not go looking for the cat
you know you will not find her
she is in the neighbor's kitchen eating Friskies
she is in the neighbor's yard making love

if you cannot find your tongue do not look for it
for you are so busy looking it cannot find you
the doves are getting dizzy and your grandmothers annoyed
be still and let them find you
they will come when they are ready

and when they are
it will not matter if your pockets are empty
if you write with a green bic or a black bic
or the blood of your finger
you will write
you will write

***
no idea who wrote this piece, but this is exactly how writing is!

W. U. I. - 16 OCT 09

art on a wall on the bowery...16 oct 2009
never walk the village under any influence but your own!
...this is what i saw...

words

lust burns me
i know i
should put down this pen
and run but
your silence wrecks me
and i let it turn me
inside out
even now
with this awful fire in me
i'm not sure if
i'm writing the words
or if they're writing me
soon will come
a letting go
for a small time
and again
we will become
the strangers
we once were

...just old light

we are all stars
fading, she said
a street prophet
shocked into telling
the amazing truth
as she saw it
dressed for winter
with holey high
holy boots
and a hooded wool coat
clamouring against it all
she could see through us
history, she whispered
wrote us in advance
because it knew
we'd forget
stars! she screeched
fading faithless
and falling stars
around our heads
and ears
but we can't hear a thing
we can't see for the brilliance
that it's only old light
out soon
too soon...

Welcome to Normal

reluctant god

You put the pen to paper

And wrote about it all

Heaven hell

Dead souls and live

Everything nothing

You shambled and shook

You laughed and howled

You spoke and spoke and spoke

Holy words like lava flowed

Creating the fire inside

You would have none of it

You just sailed away

On a sea of amber carnage

Surrounded by rage

Leaving us with this fire in our bellies

Searching for the beat

The Beat

You are

The everloving

Lifegiving soulsinger

You are

Heavenmade demonbringer

Wordslinging

Reluctant god

You are

florida dreaming

i feel like i am on the verge of some great personal truth.
the other day hanging with my nephew these words came up:

I will never forget
This place
Your beautiful face

i've not written a single line in months literally. i can't say that i miss it. i do and i don't...mostly i notice the words aren't coming as fast anymore.

expect...

i've never done anything
for love
so,
how can i expect
that love
will ever
do anything for me?

Saturday August 15th 2009 - @ TBD

Bring a bottle of your favorite, a lawn chair
And you are ready to see me take the
Jazzmobile Stage
at the
153rd Street Annual Block Party!
On 153rd Street between St. Nicholas and Amsterdam Aves
I will be reading selections from
Struggling for Beauty
Accompanied by Percussionist,
Malcolm King
Of course copies of my book will be
available for purchase
Heck, I might even sign them!
I hope to see you there!

Book Party: 1 Aug 2009

Click the photo to see the rest

Photos Part One - By Renee (Rizz) Kuchler

~*~

Click the photo to see the rest

Photos Part Two - By Paul Rizzi

~*~



Click the photo to see the rest
Photos Part Three - By Micah Moore

in the name of...or summoning the dead

i have no idea why i do it to myself everytime.
i took a peek at a former friend's blog just to see if he was still alive. he is.
i'm not entirely sure, however, if i am happy about that or not...not that i wish him a literal death. just the kind that makes it hard for him to want to live.=)
why do i keep going back that blog?
i don't know.
i can't say.

considering...

considering that love

moves at the speed of
the peculiar beat of a heart
we are refugees in our own land
wailing at walls in a house
where stretching shadows
fill corners to the brim
and considering the way
my heart wrapped itself
around you
it's no wonder we lost ourselves
but however lost
we must remember
it's love that keeps
hope so fragile
that in fear
we lock it away
until that one calls you
by your own true name
shaking free
that one bright, shining and
forgotten thing:
ourselves

5:50am

This morning I was getting ready for work standing in front of the television watching the last shreds of late night programming when this bumper came on.
I nearly died from the irony.

reset :1 :

in the dark
we exchange souls
and when morning
raises herself
over this city
you are gone and
i am as alone
as i have ever been
alone and
set free

Post-Pone-Ment

Well, My Friends...it is with a very heavy heart that I finally get real with myself and sit down to write this email.
Since last week I have been HAWKING the Weather Channel PRAYING for the land to dry out. I'd watch the local weather on the 8's and die a little when the 10-day forecast blinked on the screen. First it was cloudy with a 40% chance rain, then it became a 60% chance of rain...then it went to all out monsoon thunderstorms with hail the size of grapefruits dropping from the sky.
So, thanks to whatever forces that be, I am going to have to postpone my book party until Saturday August 1st.
Everything is still the same.

Join Us
at the
Senior Sculpture Garden Park
West 153rd Street
between St. Nicholas and Amsterdam Ave's

Saturday, August 1st 2009

3pm to 6pm

for the

Book Release & Signing
of
Struggling for Beauty
Poetry by
Monika Webb


Brought to you by
www.StillGoodNews.com
"there is still good news out there"

(light refreshments to be served)

Hopefully Mother Nature will have put her big girl pants on and quit the crying and let us just have the day!!
If you can't make it in August, but you still want a copy of "Struggling for Beauty" you can go to MonikaWebb.com and order a copy.

Hope to see you there.
Best
Monika

by far

hell is
a star
up in heaven
love does it's
part
death is
that ring
on your finger then
love
cuts your heart.

what
will you live for?
who
will you love?
look around...

the furthest
you will go
is
the closest
you will come.

slow beauty

let me
dream a little
let me have this
slow beauty
that brought me to you

She

baby monika with her mom in 1970 or '71

She touched me
with black gloved blues
and sent me into a deep spin
with her voice
She gave me one of my own
and my soul roared

* I wrote that for my mother when I lived in Germany and sent it to her, hand written on a piece of scrap paper that she still keeps in her wallet to this day. The thought of that breaks my heart because a few weeks ago my sister showed me the self-portrait her son made for her. It was a semi-circle of paper with a brown nose blue eyes red eyebrows and a smile...HAHA. She keeps it in her wallet. Mothers are strange an interesting creatures. *

SHINE

No truer words for me today!

Shine on you crazy diamond.
Now there's a look in your eyes, like black holes in the sky.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
You were caught on the cross fire of childhood and stardom,
Blown on the steel breeze.
Come on you target for faraway laughter, come on you stranger,
You legend, you martyr, and shine!

-Pink Floyd

More About the Book

Hello Fam!
I finally recieved shippment of my book! I am very proud to say that I am a Self-Published Poet. If you want a copy...it's 10$USD and I'll even sign it!
OH!
And yes, there will be a book party. The information for that is forthcoming in the next few days.
Rock out with your socks out!

a poem from a beautiful boy that i used to know

I am in the process of creating a web presence for myself and I came across a page that I'd created years ago and in the page I found a poem by this guy that...well, this guy. It was the first ever poem written about me...and yes that is him in the photo above. taken when we were both children,

she loves jah
and she claims to love me
she is more distant than the stars
but closest to her soul in reality
he gives her gifts everyday
from magnificent fall leaves
to winds that cause trees to sway
in metaphor
in a poem
she'd be a tree
with roots strong
trunk & branches wide
she hears the songbirds' song
in fall you witness her pride
and all she needs she knows god will provide
someone to lie under her gentle boughs
is what will add to her easy smile'

i want only this...

Can I get up in the morning
Put the kettle on
Make us some coffee, say "hey" to the sun...
Is it enough to write a song and sing it to the birds?
They'd hear just the tune
Not understand my love for words
But you would hear me and know...
-"Simple Life", The Weepies

uninspired

since i sent my book to the printer i have not been feeling like writing ANYthing. i've been more inclined to play around on the computer or watch tv.
still i look down at the gally of the book and see a mitake in the author's bio! what a bubble head! this is why you need 40 pairs of eyes on itin the editing process...

when the shove
comes to a push
the world slows and
i can see
the lie
just as plain as
the broken heart
you wear like a
war metal
on your skin

The Book

I got the proof of my book today. It looks wonderful and I am very very excited for it's debut! I can't wait until the book party now!

a beautiful damage

there is a barefoot angel
with a broken wing
flying in mid-heaven
trying to sing
it's a beautiful damage
that scar on your heart
made me fall for you
just as you are

adj.: halcyon

these days
in this city
pass by in a halcyon blur
wet streets whisper
their stories
beneath the kiss of
speeding tires
a train passes
a voice is carried away
in the progress of a dream
the silence that follows...

is alive
with possibilities

...and this love of mine

...is of the sort
to lurk in
abandoned shadows
with holes in her shoes
empty and whole-hearted
a love note pinned to her coat
with nothing to prove
but the force of the
raw emotion
itself

ugly

ugly girl
full of grace
heart-sore, damaged
and loved in the
most secret of ways

meltdown

going the wrong way
on a one way street - screaming
for my supper and
i am so tired of this
you'd think you'd hear me and know

A Day

Yesterday was a good day. It didn't start good. I had to be up early for a Dr's appointment that only served as a reminder of the things I'm not doing for my health. I'm not dying, that's for sure, but I could be doing a million things to be better.
After that...THEN the day got better.
I took myself to lunch at my favorite spot: The Noho Star on Bleeker & Lafayette. It's Asian American fusion, throw in a little French and whatever else they feel like putting on the menu at any given moment and you have Noho Star - BEST home made ginger ale around...besides mine! That's where I went today and had Croque Monsieur "with Fontina, Bechamel and Ham on Challah and Green Salad". My GOD was it good. I had never had Croque Monsieur before but I had always heard about it and it seemed like a sandwich I might like to eat when I get back to France...if ever...
What was cool about it was, yes, I was alone, but all the other people around me having their conversations kept me company. The 2 older women to my right were talking about texting, the new show on HBO starring Jill Scott and Facebook (they had it all wrong, but who was I to interrupt. I was enjoying their cuteness.) Then one says to the other: "Oh this is so much fun." To which to other answers: "Yes, this is fun isn't it?" Cute.
Then to my left there was a trio of Hipster West Village Dwellers...Normally I would have asked to be switched just sos I didn't get any of their faux-funk on me, but today I was feeling magnanimous so I stayed and listened and it was just as shallow as I thought it might be, however not as cloying as I expected it might be.
So it was a good lunch.
Which set the tone for a good day at work. =)

Love: A Spectator Sport

so i was at lunch with the crew from the lib and zeke when suddenly what was happening on the street below became very interesting.

hammering bones

it's all quiet tonight
stars hang like teardrops
perfect in an impossible black
from the height of this place
i can see into love's strange face
promises falling around
like grenades
on already broken hearts
words hammering bones
with the consequences
that adulation brings
it doesn't get
much worse than this

pink elephant on parade

3:02am

about a month and a half ago my mom's mom died. i was in florida with my family and i remember the exact moment i got the news because i was in bed sleeping and in my sleep i heard my mother sob in the kitchen. i hopped out of bed and went and stood next to her. it was a strange moment, because suddenly i felt ridiculous in my pink underpants waiting for my mother to get off the phone to hear what was happening. i think every moment when you hear of a death is a strange, strange moment. when my father's mother died i was having a dinner party. we were sitting at the table drinking wine and eating chicken when the phone rang. it was my step grandfather, who i never really liked in the first place: "Em? This is Pop. I'm just calling to tell you that your grandmother is dead." just like that. a few months later he was gone himself. the man was a coot, i don't mind saying, but it was also a strange moment. suddenly the table cloth i had put on the table was dumb. the food was dumb.
i dunno. (segue)
so, these last few weeks, i have been waking up at exactly 3:02am. i wake up look at the clock and either turn on the tv or just go back to sleep. it's to the point now that i have started doing research on the reasons why people wake up at the same time every day on their own without the use of an alarm clock.
i asked the smartest man i know. actually, he's just a man...that is why i trust what he says...anyway, being a man, his answer was very stoical and definitive: "trauma." he said. hm...
now, i can honestly say that in my life i have not suffered trauma to the extent that it will, say, wake me up in the middle of the night at the same time every night. but i am the sort of quirky person that will wake up in the middle of the night just because that's the time i wake up, do a lap around my studio and go back to bed for no other reason than that's what i do. in my search i found that it could be that there is something that happens in my immediate area at that time that is just loud enough for me to hear, but not long enough for me to register right away. see, when we sleep we sleep in cycles of light & heavy. it could be that at that time i am sleeping lightest and whatever happens penetrates my sleeping brain and wakes me up.
i could be talking out my butt...BUT i have decided to run an experiment. i am staying up tonight to see what, if anything, happens.

it is now 2:58am and so far it is all quiet.
3am: the heat just kicked in...it's not loud at all.
it's kind of crazy to be sitting here listening to my place.
3:03am: ah but wait...the heat is getting quite loud...i see...i wonder if this happens every night?
3:06am: my experiment is complete, i am ready for summer.

just when you're sure

the other day while on my way to work, i walked past a bunch of trash cans and these boots were sitting on top. i've no idea if they were just there waiting for their owner to return, or their owner was just getting rid of them, but there they were, just hanging out.

7.35pm

So I watched this movie called "I'm Not There". It's a film about the life of Bob Dylan, but the only time Dylan's name is seen or heard is in the credits at the beginning of the movie where it says: "Inspired by the music and many lives of Bob Dylan". Really, it's an interpretation of the performer's life through his music and interviews. The characters in the film are inspire by the different phases Dyaln went through in his life up to and including his current quasi-reclusive state.
It's an interesting work that I totally suggest to anyone who asks. I would also tell them to prepare themselves to be COMPLETELY confused because of the way the film bounces around. I've actually seen it 4 times and fell asleep on it twice. Today being no different.
At the end of the film there is a quote that resonated deeply with me: "People are always talking about freedom, and how to live a certain way. Course the more you live a certain way the less it feels like freedom. Me? I can change during the course of a day. When I wake I'm one person, when I go to sleep I know for certain I'm somebody else. I don't know who I am most of the time. It's like you got yesterday, today and tomorrow all in the same room. There's no telling what's going to happen."
So, why the ferotype of Billy the Kid? I don't know. It's got character don't you think?

feelin' all right

Don't get too lost in all I say
Though at the time I really felt that way
But that was then, now it's today;
I can't get off so I'm here to stay
Till someone comes along and takes my place
With a different name and, yes, a different face

You feelin' alright?
I'm not feelin' too good myself
Well, you feelin' alright?
I'm not feelin' too good myself

this song has been on my mind for the last few weeks...

her elegance

i called my sister this morning and just about the first thing she told me was that she dreamt her teeth fell out. now, i'm not really the type to interpret a dream, but i know that falling teeth means something because of the way the subconscious mind processes the stress that may be prevalent in a conscious brain.
i looked it up.
one spin is that we live in a superficial culture where value is placed on beauty and the loss of teeth might make one less than desirable. falling teeth in that scenario could mean that the dreamer is lacking confidence in his or her looks and experiencing some sort of anxiety about their appearance.
then there's the fact that we use our teeth to bite, tear and chew and the loss of teeth could represent a sense of powerlessness that one is feeling in one's life. a feeling that life is beyond control...a feeling of inferiority. it could be a signal that one needs to assert themselves more in their waking life and that they need to believe in, and value, themselves more.
me? last night i had dream that my left ankle was really skinny and my right ankle was really fat. you know what dreaming about ankles means? it means that a person is seeking direction and support. both of which i have been looking for. i just have to ask myself...which way do i want to go...

who loves you baby

i saw this graffiti on my way home today and i had to get a shot of it. i photoshopped the hell out of it, of course, because the original shot is very light. but it is indicative of life for the last couple of weeks and my participation in it.
for starters this is the first few days i've had off since i've been back from florida. i worked 8 days straight. 2 of them were voluntary, but the rest were mandatory or i wasn't getting paid! anyway, now my body is feeling it. it's like someone has beat me physically up and down the block.
then i had a bit of a rant at my mother, who lives in florida, about her irrational annoyance at people who are single. i had to step in, being a single and alone person. i told her that it's not easy going against something that's hardwired into your basic dna to want. everyone, i don't care what you say, EVERYone wants to mate on some level. and in this day and age it's not really easy. first of all, it's hard if you're older because we are a culture that worships youth and virility. then it's never a good idea to have anonymous encounters with people you meet on line at the bodega, let us not even go there about people on the 'net.
it's a touchy subject with me...but i will get over it as long as people stop bringing it up!
anyway, the graffiti, it made me wonder who Baby was that Papa loves...who was Papa?

you be the music

i be the poet
with words that
own this page

you be the music

why be
caught in a web
of our own thoughts
lingering over
bitter sorrows
when we could just
lay our sadnesses down
and find the shelter
we deserve
in this wild world

we can
battle the darkness
that stretches across
your face
and beat back
the shadows
that live
in my heart and
stand under a sky
the color of home
wearing happiness
like a stain

i be the poet
you be the music

these be my words
that paint
a horizon
before us

pooh wei

so, i read 'the tao of pooh' at the behest of one of my very good friends. the whole book shows the basics of taoism through the character of winnie the pooh.
i love winnie the pooh. classic pooh. naked pooh as opposed to the clothed disney version.

what i liked best was that the author described pooh as an uncarved block or 'pu' meaning pure potential and perception without prejudice. or that pooh just IS...no good no bad no beauty no ugly, just IS. he just is a bear of little brain who doesn't think about what he does he just does it and in the end, it all just works out.

belly

you're running down
the most
forsaken corner
of midnight
for a place
to hang your heart and
i'm standing here
with a love
so loud
it makes me weak
i understand now
it's not in you
to love me
but when your
whispered words
come down like this
it's enough
to put worlds
in my belly

for a girl

girl
listen
be who you are
and never
apologize for
your wounded heart
or your broken smile
girl
celebrate your gifts
love your spirit
peace girl
just be
take the time it takes
to understand the
shadows in you
and make friends
for they are
uniquely your own
girl
learn the words
that make your own
soul sing
and hang them before you
for the one
who will recognize them
you girl
will know love
when you know
we are so much
more than our bodies
and everything we are
is so much bigger than
spilled tears

silence promised

i been wanting to add a photo here, but i can't think of one right now...i DO however want to post this stuff so i will repost with a photo later...=)
1.

i am a little afraid
of this moment
where you
have suddenly come
to fill the place
between us
with your smell
and your noise
i am afraid
because
i know
this may not
come again

***

2.

time it is to
set fire
to this broken heart
i want to feel anything
at all
besides
the wound
in my chest
or hear
anything but
the scream
from this cracked heart
time it is
to find out
why
to be reminded
why
i am born
love will
find me
on my knees
with this heart
full of rage and
give me the grace
to topple walls and
the strength
to step over them

***

3.

my friend,
i am sorry
that you had to see me
fall apart
like this
i just
had no place else
to go
as long as you know
everything i did
i did
with my heart
in my hands
i trust you always
because you know
a broken heart
renders words
beautiful
there is always
poetry in a fall
and right now
in this place where
my heart is not my own
i am in
one kiss too deep
struggling for beauty
fighting for my life

A Riss from a Kose

i just like this picture...i took it at a wedding a few days ago. i did not dance. i just drank chardonnay and tried not to look like i wanted to run...i think i would have run if my heels weren't so high.

the poet speaks one last word...

1.

you asked me
about poetry
and this is it:
it's like
digging holes in
the frozen earth
and spilling words
seedless, soundless and
big.
it's like
following him
down to the bottom
of your broken heart
and the only one to
come up for air
is him.
it's like
drowning
in pointless emotions.
it's like
loving
someone who kills you.
you asked me
about poetry
and that's it.

***

2.
Morning, I...

washing off the make-up
from last night
i consider
my latest brushes
with disappointment
a bad date
the end
a wedding...
i focus on
the face in the mirror
as i pass a washcloth over
the features
i call them out
my eyes.
my nose.
my ears.
my lips.
my chin.
mine.
and i realize that
even if
no one else does
i care for it
i want it
i love it
it's not nameless
it's mine and
no one else's.

***

3.

i have grown
my emotions are
no longer simple
maybe even too big
my skin can't
hold them in anymore...

***

4.

sitting in a bagel shop
downtown
pretending to be
homeless
i got
no place to go
i got
nothing to do
but sit
drink coffee and
watch people.
really
i'm just rootless
restless...
i don't want to go home
i don't want to stay outside
but i got no one to go to
so i sit
in this shop
breathing in coffee and
the cold air
people bring in
with them.

in the name of love & war...

i made a confession last night that i never really had any intention of making...but i don't regret it. it was really quite freeing.