Friday, May 30, 2008


Thursday, May 29, 2008

Put some distance between this, you and your cute knitted hats, last night’s wind through the trees and that old couple you ran into at the park. There are exploded hearts and you’re sitting on your porch, waiting, with tears in your eyes and arms opened wide enough to let me and all my bullshit sit comfortably.

Friday, May 23, 2008

I am waiting for the return of them because there is no way for me to kiss the fear away.

Thursday, May 22, 2008

ode to Emily

Do you dare, sir, to ask me to cease
To dream? Because it makes you
Uneasy, so. I’ll claw into You, drag
Amongst the sand of my world, dust bowl
Sweeping across your wept
Eyes . I do not swirl around on Cosmic planes or
make Love on ribbons of color, No
I lay flat on the Sea, the Grass, rolling
into your Eyes, Perhaps, but
Not to watercolor it into Existence,
but to be Filled by it and to swim in its presence.

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

It’s the words written between lovers; manifested between my legs, between the skin. Wanting to kiss your eye lid or hold that hand. Your hands that command my body, shaking beneath the chill of the room. It’s there, between the sheets. Lowering on top of you, letting you win.

It makes me shift in my chair, wanting to feel your lips against my breathing skin instantly.

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

I can feel you looking; it burns my lips.

Monday, May 19, 2008

one thousand knives piercing my fingertips; preventing me from touching you.

Friday, May 16, 2008

i will try to dry myself from these thoughts
pull away from the magnets pushing me towards your body
i know that, perhaps, the fever will subside, leaving one or both of us limp in it's wake
washed out and filled up with licks and smacks.

Thursday, May 15, 2008

I heard him laugh this little speck of a laugh like he does in the morning when something is so funny but he’s just waking up so it’s only a squeak.

Monday, May 12, 2008

He's equal with the Gods, that man
Who sits across from you,
Face to face, close enough, to sip
Your voice's sweetness,

And what excites my mind,
Your laughter, glittering. So,
When I see you, for a moment,
My voice goes,

My tongue freezes. Fire,
Delicate fire, in the flesh.
Blind, stunned, the sound
Of thunder, in my ears.

Shivering with sweat, cold
Tremors over the skin,
I turn the colour of dead grass,
And I'm an inch from dying.

Friday, May 9, 2008

I believed myself to be developing a sty on my left eye.
Ayurveda tells us to put our personal morning saliva on the lid when we wake up to heal the infection.
It worked.

Thursday, May 8, 2008

peeling an orange

I was sitting at a café, trying to write a paper on Asia
Got up to smoke a cigarette and thought about you
How I didn’t let you live
Didn’t give you a chance

Please you have to understand
It wasn’t my choice
I didn’t have a plan
It didn’t mean, I don’t love you still

Peeling an orange is a delicate process
You don’t want to pierce the flesh
It’s right there under the skin

Wednesday, May 7, 2008

Veiled Yes

The veiled eyes constantly discerning and seeking
What lies beneath the breathable piece of cloth isn’t
What we seek to liberate
They seek understanding while all we see is fabric

She remembers what she was taught in school
Women are intelligent and equal
They should work and hold office
Our eyes don’t see this teaching
We see a woman who is afraid to show her ankles on pain of death
Is death better than the blood we spill to liberate?
We have created the hell in which women live in fear,
Rhetoric of fair and balanced over our airwaves
Life isn’t fair why should our information claim so?

Putting her child to sleep underneath the bright skies
Of bombs and nuclear threat
Is the world safer now that the veil is lifted?
The American flag flies high in a country
That did not ask to be liberated
It did not ask for democracy
It did not ask for the mini skirts of Hollywood to
Infiltrate its culture of modesty
Underneath the cloth is a body that yearns for touch
Yearns for understanding against the oppression it doesn’t understand
She is suffocated by her womanhood and the
Black standards that suppress her
Black standards of western thought
Against the orange peace of eastern culture

We see the liberation of womanhood in terms of skin
We have the ability to dress freely but are also condemned for what we wear
It is the same for her although the symbol of her oppression
Contained by a large piece of oppressive fabric
We do not hear her cries for the muffled sounds are
silenced by our own cries of injustice
Isn’t the only plight of the Arab woman.
She says she won’t until she understands why
Why we can’t see her as more than the tablecloth the covers her
Until we see her as the body and not the symbol.
and Gillian said, "she is a calm walking muscle."

Monday, May 5, 2008

meditation vision

She lies naked on her back, her legs spread and bent like a frog’s. The skin on her tummy is rising, up and down. There is an imaginary flow of light and energy that circles out from her vagina and back into her mouth. It arches her back and levitates her from her bed. She rides on the current inside of her. She is suddenly awake.
I watched as a green, full oak tree was disfigured today in the park. The men took each limb down one by one and then tossed the pared off pieces into a shredder, there was a wild flurry of leaf dust that kept getting caught to my lips. The breeze made the greenest of the leaves sway in communication with the ones still attached at the trunk. I don’t understand why we destroy what gives us life.

Saturday, May 3, 2008

The smell of herself on her own lips. He had transfered it there with his mouth.

Thursday, May 1, 2008

i am a wild flower, not a rose.