| somewhere inbetween... |
[Jul. 1st, 2007|10:41 am] |
a recent poem:
I think i'm found somewhere inbetween lost and insensitive.
trying to breathe a deeper breath and filter out that cigarette smoke urgency from my fingertips...from my eyes that awake to a grateful silence.
my eyes that never made contact with a man rumaging through my dumpster,
as i set down my coffee,
as i slip into my car,
as i toss my bag into the seat beside me, as my mind fills with the ever-present needs of humanity, the power of the government, the weight of the homeless.
socialites who direct public funds into their own pockets and own agendas.
healthcare socialized or private, and i'm stirred inside til i look out again as i drive away from the man as he digs and excavates, shifts and shakes an a aerosol can hoping for his fulfillment.
And i'm reminded that some are lost until they dig their way out, their way up, their way down. And some are insensitive to reality, to future, to time, to change and to the hope of it.
I think i'm found somewhere between lost and insensitive. |
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| unnatural |
[Mar. 14th, 2007|09:16 pm] |
it's unnatural to live for four days, and never fully wake up.
it's unnatural to fear time alone when it's only you standing around yourself.
it's unnatural to make love to frustration and have it gone before the waking dawn...it tends to be a lover who stays.
it's unnatural to hide as much as i do.
it's unnatural to live in all my muddled ways.
it's unnatural all the clarity i need.
it's unnatural to love the way i do.
it's unnatural to effortlessly lose. |
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| my trouble... |
[Feb. 4th, 2007|10:05 pm] |
Shawn Colvin
A Few Small Repairs (1996)
Trouble
Baby let me set you down
You look so troubled and I think I know
Just when you think you've come around
There you go
Now I know the business of the heart
And it'll get you anyway it can
You need someone to walk with in the dark, well
I'm your man
I go to the trouble like a magnet
That's where I'll be
Trouble is just a place to sing
It's what you need
I swear you look like you're in jail
And all at once you're halfway out the door
One foot dancing, one foot nailed
To the floor
Chasing those circles in the ground
The same old shit is still the same old lie
Just when you think you've got it down
Watch it fly
I go to the trouble like a light
Or like a dare
Trouble is just a friend to me, I know
It'll always be there
It's really hard to make your peace
So give me some credit for the hell I've paid
This world's a blessing and a beast
Everyday
So come on baby let me show you how
The less you know the more I comprehend
You don't have to drag me down
I descend
I go to the trouble and I like it
That's where I'll be
Trouble is just like love, if it's half the way
It's all I can see
And it's just what you need |
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| it's bizarre really... |
[Jan. 19th, 2007|12:56 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  thoughtful | ] |
it's bizarre really, to lose control of a vehicle that you always feel so in control of...it's scary to lose control of something that controls you even... it's the world you step into when you want out.
so far i've gotten stuck in the ice/sleet/ick a total of 6 different times. once i surrendered to salt and dug myself out. once neighbors that i don't know so well helped me for a good 10 minutes. i still don't know his name, although i confirmed the thought that he's creepy. another time i tried to poll volt a mound of ice and a guy in a half ton or 3 ton truck or whatever circles the block and uncoils a nylon rope to yank me over the edge. that was to get debbie to her home so she could get to work... i was so afraid of getting stuck that after the man freed me i passed her house, her neighborhood, her entire block and i just kept my wheels rollin'.... finally i turned around on north Penn in an intersection clear enough to get me heading back the right direction. i told debbie to heal/toe epxress it back to the corner where we had been stuck and i'd pick her up there...i wasn't even about to get close enough to go through that again.
i got off work early the day the icy weather all came in, and rightly so. the doctor i work for was out of town (in sunny shiney hawaii) so therefore we weren't quite able to fight eye disease effectively. i get off work and think "Who IS working in this kinda weather?"...i'm thinking that all the to the parking lot of my favorite coffee shop...which is open...and i'm thrilled. it's weird. but, again, i'm thrilled. to my knowledge that coffee shop never closed.
i feel like i've seen it all. a woman with snow ski poles, stickin' em into the ground and working her way to the bus stop, in a skirt, snow boots and all. tonight i saw a guy on a bicycle just peddling by. his left hand stablizing the handle bar of the bike, his right hand gripping a guitar. i've seen cars abandoned along the sides of streets. the city transportation just goes right around them. the slow plows create a fortress of shoveled show tatooed with grime all around it.
myself personally... i slammed straight into the rear of car. a black man in a black Caddy. i was like oh sh*t. i did manage to mutter words of optimism ever so slightly, because with one swooping 20mph SLAM i helped him through the intersection where he was stuck. he must have slid off the ice that i had just slid on, and landed mid stream in the intersection. What did i do wrong? I dunno, i put my brakes on way back and cut my wheels every which way but straight, and still managed to hit him. My guess is that he had drugs in the car; he had a warrant for his arrest, no insurance, or just didn't plain care cause he waved me on and told me to leave half a minute after i hit him. Uh, get my a*s off nw 16th at 10:30 at night and head back home, um, yes, sir i'll take it. and i did. i was back on the icy roads with bits of paint missing from my front bumper.
It's just been so bizarre. little angels come from nowhere with a shovel and sand. most have shown up with the ability to heave hoe a car just enough to create traction again.
we laugh because our arms and inner thighs are sore from pushing my stranded car and from conservatively walking along all day long. shuffle shuffle shuffle. the intense flocking of arms to keep your balance.
the lives of two little kids were spared when a friend of mine slammed her car into a curb, not once but twice, to avoid hitting the two kids who were belly down, on the ice, in the middle of the road having fun. she also took the time to check on her own baby girl in the back seat, then get out of her car and scream at the parent who let the kids lay there. apparantly no differnece was made. she drove away seeing the kids continue t0 play in the road, on their bellies.
we're truely a product of our environment. what items are sold out at wal mart? sliced turkey, coke, diet coke, ddp...milk, bread, canned soup. kitty litter. sliced cheese. it's like the world is ending, but really our environment is confining us with its cold hands. dangerous hands.
some people screw it. they slam into a curb while driving from one city to the next, late at night to try and fix what the weather can't hold back. some people swear with tears in their eyes they're to must drive and smoke because they need to think. screw it. some people cook 8 cinnamon rolls in a tiny oven when there are only 2 people to please. my thought was: easy on the icing, and bring it to your neighbors while the rolls are still warm. they'll be just as surprised, love you for it, and you'll be surprised how simple it was to make a few people, confined and trying to stay warm, really, really happy. |
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| Red Hot Chili Peppers Snow Lyrics |
[Jan. 15th, 2007|12:45 pm] |
Come to decide that the things that I tried
Were in my life just to get high on
When I sit alone come get a little known
But I need more than myself this time
Step from the road to the sea to the sky
And I do believe that we rely on
When I lay it on
Come get to play it on
All my life to sacrifice
Hey oh listen what I say oh
I got your
Hey oh now listen what I say oh
When will I know that I really can't go
To the well once more time to decide on
When it's killing me
When will I really see
All that I need to look inside
Come to believe that I better not leave
Before I get my chance to ride
When it's killing me
What do I really need
All that I need to look inside
Hey oh listen what I say oh
Come back and
Hey oh lookey what I say oh
The more I see the less I know
The more I like to let it go... hey oh
Deep beneath the cover of another perfect wonder
Where it's so white as snow
Privately divided by a world so undecided
And there’s nowhere to go
In between the cover of another perfect wonder
and it’s so white as snow
Running through the field where all my tracks will be concealed
and there's nowhere to go
When to descend to amend for a friend
All the channels that have broken down
Now you bring it up
I’m gonna ring it up
Just to hear you sing it out
Step from the road to the sea to the sky
And I do believe what we rely on
When I lay it on
Come get to play it on
All my life to sacrifice
Hey oh listen what I say oh
I got your
Hey oh listen what I say oh
The more I see the less I know
The more I like to let it go... hey oh
woah woah
Deep beneath the cover of another perfect wonder
Where it's so white as snow
Privately divided by a world so undecided
And there’s nowhere to go
In between the cover of another perfect wonder
Where it’s so white as snow
Running through the field where all my tracks will be concealed
and there's nowhere to go.
I said hey hey yeah oh yeah, tell my love now.
Hey hey yeah oh yeah, tell my love now.
Deep Beneath the cover of another perfect wonder
Where it's so white as snow
Privately divided by a world so undecided
And there’s nowhere to go
Deep beneath the cover of another perfect wonder
Where it’s so white as snow
Running through the field where all my tracks will
Be concealed and there's nowhere to go
I said hey oh yeah... oh yeah,
Tell my love now
Hey yeah yeah oh yeah |
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| thanksgiving at 25 |
[Dec. 5th, 2006|11:34 pm] |
I ate veal thinking it was duck. What the fuck? I drove to San Antonio with written directions from my mother; a little map and all. She knows the route to her hometown like the back of her hand. I remember it too, from when I was little. I remember that big awkward turn and that turnaround heading back to my grandmothers little side road between the shoe store and the pool store. What I really remember were those speed bumps… front tires…budump…back tires… bud ump. It would wake up all the kids; toss 'em around in the bed of collapsed back seats of our family station wagon. We’d arrive, be stood upright, given our pillows to stick beneath our arms and herded into my grandmother’s mobile home. It always had a stale smoke smell. Leaving for home, our pillows would smell the exact same way.
This time I’m 25. I’m driving a leather seated Honda with an ice chest of slurpie type drinks beside me…diet dr pepper and waters. Dried fruit and gum. Smokes become friendly on an 8-hour drive. So do funny movie lines in my head…”He did WHAT in his cup?” (from the animated movie “Cars” referring to the coveted Piston Cup.) Text message and phone calls pass some time. Music from my iPOD plays itself in alphabetical order…I’m amazed with how many song titles there are after the letter “O”.
I pull up. Grandma must have heard me. My head is mining through the things in my trunk...I grab my bathroom bag, my bag of clothes and my camera. All a must have. Grandma is sticking her head out the door then comes to meet me at the gate. I’ve got 3 bags on two shoulders. I’m kissed and greeted. I’m pleasantly happy to be there. I’m pleasantly relieved my 83-year-old grandfather is less dead than I feared he’d be. I must admit the first thought of making this trip was planted in my head when my grandmother told me he wouldn’t be around much longer. The second seed planted grew out of the last 3 months. My workday is whelmed with care of ocularly diseased elderly patients. My grandfather is just one of the millions, just in a different state. TRAVATAN. OU. QHS. (Inter ocular pressure controlling medication. both eyes. every evening.) I know the medication. I dispense it. I recommend it. Might even be able to stow a few samples away and send them through the post to him.
He’s alive, sitting upright in a recliner chair. He does not rise to greet, but his scruffy cheek touches mine with a kiss. I’m just thankful he remembers me. He tells me the next morning that he has a “touch” of Parkinson’s as he staggers by. He looks to the wall and simply says, “but I don’t know how much a “touch” is.” His walker leads him to his room where he will retire for hours…at least until it’s time for his pills. QID. (four times daily). Eventually he’ll stroll back out. His shirt might be tucked in or it might not. His fly might be up or it might not. That morning it wasn’t. My grandma says, “Hey Daddy your barn door is open.” He’s too disconnected to give a snappy response, or snappily fix the problem. By the time the problems fixed, he doesn’t remember fixing it. My grandma seems fed up with him, or the lack of him that there is.
Today over an Asian lunch she tells me she always knew she’d be the one to care for him as an elderly man. Married or not. Married for 17 years. Not for 13. Married again for 13 years. During the “not” time he always introduced her as his wife. She’d correct him and say “ex-wife”. He was there for the kids’ birthdays. He was there on holidays….on holiday vacations. He didn’t have anyone else. She always knew she’d be the one caring for him. Two social security checks are better than one because you know you can’t live on just one.
When he begins to tell stories I listen for a couple of seconds then glance over to verify with grandma that he’s of sound mind. For the time being he is and so is story telling. He talks about being in Portugal, looking to take a night train to the coast…He has to run to catch it. Hastily he boards the last cart of the train to sits beside a man. Quickly they settle into conversation where the man speaks of travels and off his wife. My stares to notice he is one bag short. He gathers again his shortcomings and runs back to where he left his bag. He runs up to it, swoops it up. He turns to rush back. I see and hear the end of the story in my head. He leaps onto the railing of the last car as it pulls away from the station. He’s out of breath as he returns to his seat beside the man with the wife. They way he told the story was that he ended up with all his belongs but he simply misses the train. So he simply waits for next train. The next train turns out to be an “Express” train getting him to his same destination hours earlier with fewer stops. Ah! Good ending! I too like losing a gamble and still winning, I thought. The man who spoke of his wife truly lost the gamble. He and 12 others. A bomb blew them up. The last four end cars. Grandpa didn’t hear this until the morning after he arose from his bunk in the wrong city. The overnight express train had changed route due to the bomb. He was completely off course but completely alive. I flashed to the miracle in my mind how I wouldn’t have been here had he simply looked at his feet before he rose to catch a sleeper train headed for the coast. Incredible.
What’s more incredible is that my uncle gave me 3 secrets to life while sitting in his leather Caddy with cigar ash in the tray. Finger #1: Get to know God. Finger #2: Get to know yourself. Finger #3: Then get to know the world and others. He said that with no reflection of his bank account or wooded area where is home lay. I think he could’ve been living in a shack and still said those 3 same things and still had that pure heart and clear eyes. Those 3 keys came from him living and succeeding in life. Succeeding only after he lost his family and marriage... |
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| (no subject) |
[Jan. 29th, 2006|10:55 am] |
i'm 25 and 25 hours as i type this...
i'm sitting at the red cup on oklahoma city. i'm here because i was going to meet robin and emily this am.... i left debbie's, showered, changed into my $5 thirfted outfit... american eagle jean that just about fit right, and and aeropstatle or whatever brand that is nice button up shirt with a's thrifted green jacket...looking pretty hot for $5 :)
well i'm looking good but all alone :( robin called late saying she overslept, but she left a message b/c i had my phone in the car charging. i was inside the red cup buying a calling card so we could give adianne a surprise call with a handful of her favorite people :) but anyway, they didn't show. so i started eating a breakfast burrito and a cafe au lait to drink and was reading for class. but then i realized i'm sitting in my favorite coffee shop, i just celebrated my 25th...i should have something to say...
as what i have to say...i'm 25, my back has been hurting for nearly a week. i woke up sorta early on a dreary sat morning fed the kitty cat tuna fish b/c i'm out of kitty food.... if i was a good momma i'd stop typing and go now :) oh here's something creepy. jumping ahead from yesterday to today, i plugged my laptop in and turned it on and the time was set for dec 31st 1969 at 7 in the evening...how creepy is that?!!!! should i know something about that date?
anyway, i got up, took a timed photo of me sitting in front of my bathtub on the bathroom floor brushing my teeth showing that this is me at 25. i took other random shots throughout the day, using UC film :) anyway, spent the entire morning thrifting...bought a book titiled "your aching back" just for kicks...well, the kinda kick that doesn't hurt your back anymore than it already is. i bought this kickass outfitl...a brown cord jacket, the book "a tree grows in brooklyn" that i remember reading and loving as a child...anyway, i didn't see a soul i knew until 1pm and i was loving it....
this is sorry that the one thing i did have planned for my bday totally fell through.
i did get an actually phone call from adrianne which i can't imagine how much that cost her.
so anyway, i guess in the end i don't have a whole lot to say.
i will, and i must, apply for nursing school tomorrow. monday, jan 30th. :)
love me. |
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