Gratitude.
My mother
And the old BMW that got us here
The Pacific Ocean
Best friends since haybale days
Haybale days
Real food
Tofu
Cookies and
Butter
Holding hands
This one pair of blue jeans
This home at the edge of the world
The voices on the phone
Him (a lover)
Him (a love)
Him (a friend)
Jessy
Mary
Meghan
Hill
Anna
Donald
Email
Nina simone
My dad I guess if I must I shall today- today horay for Ray
Letters on paper in envelopes with stamps
Breath
Health
Art
Art like vines, art like manure, art hand in hand with breath touching death
Steve
School
Teachers
JohnCamronVinny
Small children with love
Love
Love with love
Tired love
Strong love
Strong arms
Big hearts
Trusting eyes
Big bass beats.
Gratitude.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Friday, December 21, 2007
staff week at esalen
looking back on my writing this week everything seems a bit to current
and a bit too personal to be posting up for any potential someone to read. so i am posting something i wrote a few months back about a best friend and a trip to paris:
At sixteen there were geraniums cut from the windowsill in a mason jar sitting on the antique table.
There was Edith Piaf bouncing off the wood tile floors that went clicky clack under feet searching for the bathroom at night.
Trapped in a metro photo booth cube my strange hair color and the swimming eyes of shopping on our own for the first time in a wide city with children's play money easing the importance of what we would hoard at home.
There was making pasta and salad as the sunset backlit the rooftops of the abyss of history beyond.
There were photos of a family I was married into with children and grandchildren at all sorts of events and not my face nor my hand nor toe was to be found in any of the frames or books sitting placed around the flat
At sixteen there were old things and ashtrays and loaves of bread in the freezer for when visitors wanted the authentic Parisian breakfast. My grandmother smoking in the mornings and attacking small plastic cups of French diet yogurt while she tickled my brother or stomped about the rooms; Her weight despite the control serving breakfast never seeming to change.
We went to the cathedrals and imagined stories and I think now we imagined the same things; silently in our heads standing side by side. Two radios on the same magic frequency that adults and kids who don’t believe in faeries can’t hear.
At sixteen I laid on the hard futon in the grown up sisters room with you and cried far from home tears about how much it hurt when he left and how it hurt to see him when I return to him as you sat and listened in the French blackness and I drifted off to sleep beside you.
I had been before sixteen. I went before in the trips before and found those places to take you to where we would be alone but thank god together. It is so nice to be alone together. Thank god together.
Sixteen is the memory. Over pasta and Edith and pigeons descending into dusk.
and a bit too personal to be posting up for any potential someone to read. so i am posting something i wrote a few months back about a best friend and a trip to paris:
At sixteen there were geraniums cut from the windowsill in a mason jar sitting on the antique table.
There was Edith Piaf bouncing off the wood tile floors that went clicky clack under feet searching for the bathroom at night.
Trapped in a metro photo booth cube my strange hair color and the swimming eyes of shopping on our own for the first time in a wide city with children's play money easing the importance of what we would hoard at home.
There was making pasta and salad as the sunset backlit the rooftops of the abyss of history beyond.
There were photos of a family I was married into with children and grandchildren at all sorts of events and not my face nor my hand nor toe was to be found in any of the frames or books sitting placed around the flat
At sixteen there were old things and ashtrays and loaves of bread in the freezer for when visitors wanted the authentic Parisian breakfast. My grandmother smoking in the mornings and attacking small plastic cups of French diet yogurt while she tickled my brother or stomped about the rooms; Her weight despite the control serving breakfast never seeming to change.
We went to the cathedrals and imagined stories and I think now we imagined the same things; silently in our heads standing side by side. Two radios on the same magic frequency that adults and kids who don’t believe in faeries can’t hear.
At sixteen I laid on the hard futon in the grown up sisters room with you and cried far from home tears about how much it hurt when he left and how it hurt to see him when I return to him as you sat and listened in the French blackness and I drifted off to sleep beside you.
I had been before sixteen. I went before in the trips before and found those places to take you to where we would be alone but thank god together. It is so nice to be alone together. Thank god together.
Sixteen is the memory. Over pasta and Edith and pigeons descending into dusk.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
a day with steve
Today
I drove past houses covered in vines
With gates
To find steve in my car five
and then minutes later
Walking and talking with him at the marina
He asked me what was important
And I said
Health
Happiness
Friends and relationships
Art
He said
Meditation
And saving the world
Laughing that he
Might have something to learn
And then I saw
A seagull with one leg
As we stood together at the water
He said
Sometimes I think about the doors that were closed along the way
And suggested that I marry his son
I left him at the airport
And he laughed that he
Was always learning something
New about himself
Later at the post office a woman blocked the
Parking lot
Because she was passed out
Eyes closed
In her running car
With a thousand dollars
In cash in the seat beside
Her
I took a walk alone after leaving her with the paramedics
She had woken up
Confused
I drove past houses covered in vines
With gates
To find steve in my car five
and then minutes later
Walking and talking with him at the marina
He asked me what was important
And I said
Health
Happiness
Friends and relationships
Art
He said
Meditation
And saving the world
Laughing that he
Might have something to learn
And then I saw
A seagull with one leg
As we stood together at the water
He said
Sometimes I think about the doors that were closed along the way
And suggested that I marry his son
I left him at the airport
And he laughed that he
Was always learning something
New about himself
Later at the post office a woman blocked the
Parking lot
Because she was passed out
Eyes closed
In her running car
With a thousand dollars
In cash in the seat beside
Her
I took a walk alone after leaving her with the paramedics
She had woken up
Confused
Sunday, December 9, 2007
TV day not too proud
Today was spent watching television
And I am ashamed to admit it
Ashamed that I am not today a reflection of the me I want to be tomorrow
And knowing full well tomorrow I will watch television for a time
And any time tends to be something I am not proud of
But I like it. I like the shows. I like the stories. I like the people.
I loathe the commercials.
And I balance it out I think. I do work. I look things up and send emails. I make plans. Plans for tomorrow.
Work for the coming week
And really, the weather outside is very cold.
And I am ashamed to admit it
Ashamed that I am not today a reflection of the me I want to be tomorrow
And knowing full well tomorrow I will watch television for a time
And any time tends to be something I am not proud of
But I like it. I like the shows. I like the stories. I like the people.
I loathe the commercials.
And I balance it out I think. I do work. I look things up and send emails. I make plans. Plans for tomorrow.
Work for the coming week
And really, the weather outside is very cold.
Thursday, December 6, 2007
casting couch take 1/ first 6 months in LA
To whom shall I complain?
Said Isabella to about the same offer I was given tonight
Two thousand dollars
To work for 5 hours in a
Skimpy outfit
And the money sounded great and I was all about
the Playboy mansion
But not the tacked on personal note
That contingent with my hiring
Was more than just allowing the desiring
I had to give a ride away for free
Or for
Two thousand dollars I am not yet sure
What exacty the money was actually for
I stayed polite
That’s right
When I wanted to comment on how tiny his penis must be
And how it is men like him that make women hate men
And instead
I found a way to say
You must love your job
What power you must feel
Call me if you ever need a girl
To work
And not fuck
If you hire those kind of girls
And he said to get used to it
Number one mistake I made was saying
Hi I am new in town
And what I get for that is
We love your pictures
Lets fuck
And you better get used to it
If you want to make it in this town
It is work like anything else.
Because what is funny is that was what I was thinking by mailing him my picture in the first place
This is a job
A world of professionals
We just want pretty girls
To wear skimpy clothes
And flirt with the guests
Said the ad.
And I can wear skimpy clothes
And be pretty and flirty
And that is just work for me
That is just a job I don’t mind having
But I have yet to read between my lines
And my seeing the best in people thing is causing some problems.
None of this would be a problem if it weren’t for the fact
That the fucking fuckhead they have hiring
Uses a thing he thinks is power
Power being two thousand dollars
As a way to get a little off the top
From the bottom
Or however he likes it
What I wanted to say
To him
But it wouldn’t have mattered so I didn’t
Was
My sex my time my soul heart body mind and touch
Is worth much
Much
I mean much
More than two thousand pathetic little dollars
Don’t even try to insult me
And I take a moment to be greatful to my savings
And my forward thinking
I hope he gets fat
Loses his hair
And no one ever truly loves him
I hope his boss
Can’t find a woman he can pay enough to someday
And I hope
He dies alone
They don’t even deserve my prayers for their redemption
Lost causes
How dare they
And I sure ain’t gonna get used to it
Said Isabella to about the same offer I was given tonight
Two thousand dollars
To work for 5 hours in a
Skimpy outfit
And the money sounded great and I was all about
the Playboy mansion
But not the tacked on personal note
That contingent with my hiring
Was more than just allowing the desiring
I had to give a ride away for free
Or for
Two thousand dollars I am not yet sure
What exacty the money was actually for
I stayed polite
That’s right
When I wanted to comment on how tiny his penis must be
And how it is men like him that make women hate men
And instead
I found a way to say
You must love your job
What power you must feel
Call me if you ever need a girl
To work
And not fuck
If you hire those kind of girls
And he said to get used to it
Number one mistake I made was saying
Hi I am new in town
And what I get for that is
We love your pictures
Lets fuck
And you better get used to it
If you want to make it in this town
It is work like anything else.
Because what is funny is that was what I was thinking by mailing him my picture in the first place
This is a job
A world of professionals
We just want pretty girls
To wear skimpy clothes
And flirt with the guests
Said the ad.
And I can wear skimpy clothes
And be pretty and flirty
And that is just work for me
That is just a job I don’t mind having
But I have yet to read between my lines
And my seeing the best in people thing is causing some problems.
None of this would be a problem if it weren’t for the fact
That the fucking fuckhead they have hiring
Uses a thing he thinks is power
Power being two thousand dollars
As a way to get a little off the top
From the bottom
Or however he likes it
What I wanted to say
To him
But it wouldn’t have mattered so I didn’t
Was
My sex my time my soul heart body mind and touch
Is worth much
Much
I mean much
More than two thousand pathetic little dollars
Don’t even try to insult me
And I take a moment to be greatful to my savings
And my forward thinking
I hope he gets fat
Loses his hair
And no one ever truly loves him
I hope his boss
Can’t find a woman he can pay enough to someday
And I hope
He dies alone
They don’t even deserve my prayers for their redemption
Lost causes
How dare they
And I sure ain’t gonna get used to it
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