Monday, April 07, 2003

"you like her?"
yes of course
how could he not when
she gives him what
no one else does
when she is
exciting and
brand new as
tasting pink rain of a
cloudless day
and electric silk shocks
of laughter and smiles
and the kisses of her eyes
and i want her to see me
and have her be the one
to get questioned
"you like HER?!"
because if you like me
i won't mind
and if you like me
they'll probably call you crazy
hey, Love
i'll see you around
at your next appointment
slide into the slot
of your allotted time
i love these moments we have, Love
and you know that, don't you?
do you think we could fix this
to three times a week, at least?
i would say that we both deserve it
we all deserve a little more
beauty fit into a tight place
and somehow there is room for me
in the space between
your shining and my smile
karma macchiato
come on get in
the car is waiting for you
laughing and lying
egyptian style
on the pillows who are your friends
and when we start singing
i swear there are
more voices than just ours
i am crushed when we quit rolling
dragging myself up and out
put on a smile for them
smile crushed by the weight of
not carrying someone
but the doorknob in my palms
turning
they are waiting
but you're sped off
i hate for a night like this
to end
and i want to preserve it somehow
roll it up in a jar for the top shelf
take it down and stir it up sometime
so that i can remember
and the noise of our dreaming
over the sound of our breathing
and how your laughter surrounded us
splashing through a waterfall
showered and enveloped
with what you taught me
and it is just you
armed only with words and laughter
and an impossible aura
that is swimming to meet me
and in moments like these
we really do become one
we really are beauty
and we dance tonight
i feel this poem still needs some help. please give me advice. the end is a reference to brock's "panacea" poem. written today, march 19, 24, and 25.


he's too big for his body
and some definition
some words
boring weird male enigma
he will prove himself he will prove them wrong
because Goddess is on his side
no he will not be afraid of dancing
he will not be afraid of his beauty
no no no he doesn't need them
he doesn't need ridiculous comments
he doesn't need you
all walls down
he's too big for this school
where he is dwarfed by a big empty
big status
big possession
he's too big for that house
and the bobble-headed boys
in his bare living room who
might just never grow up
might just nod through life
when i've got a headache
his noodle day makes me better
and i wish we could go hunting for rolly pollies together
i want to transfer a tiny sphere of life
from my palm to his
i want his happiness
he is cutting down on coffee!
he is slowly killing his tea addiction!
boy, you are beautiful
i'm glad that we met the kid at
Sonic who used to go to school with you
and he left hating us
but he left hating us as ourselves
he drove away maiming us mentally
not having never known that we exist
because
we exist
LOUDLY
we are
ALWAYS US!
you
boy
you
have to admit that you enjoyed that
and look at what we can be all together
one big big being
what makes him tick?
a big big heart
classified enigma in
a big big world
scrawled in black ink-paint all over his keen hands
not your boy
and he laughs
and the whole big big world laughs
i promise that boy
will find a flat and fill it full of beauty
things and people
surrounding himself with wonder
he will go to Bombay, India
and try to get into a bollywood movie
by belly-dancing through the streets
waiting to be cast as an extra in a dance sequence
singing “VAYASHIANAYLADYAEKEAGOIA”
at the top of his high high voice
with that high high note sitting in the top shelf
one day he will be fulfilled
he won't have to keep searching for friends
when he is brooding at Paris street cafes
he will be approached by dead-thin artists
and love-sick poodles
and teary-eyed middle-aged women bearing pastries
who see him for what he is
he will be satisfied
when he lives in a nutshell house
with me and our beauties
he will be satisfied
as a gypsy dancing under a white-toothed moon
life is beautiful
and so is he
he is up in that smile
constructing constellations
fixturing the stars
i can see him on a ladder
palette in hand
painting the clouds on
i can't wait to see his sunrise
i can't wait to see
where this is going
he wants to be
free
frisbee-throwing
psuedo-pot-smoking
brooding, intellectual
loving and loved
gypsy boy
don't be upset
we love you too much to know you are unhappy
look at the moon smiling at you
as pixies we sprint over silver grassy fields
in the pale silver light
see the beauty of the night?

Thursday, April 03, 2003

it's not even 7am yet
there are only two cars in the parking lot
of Adult Fantasy Warehouse
i figure on belongs to the owner
and the other belong to the copper girl
standing outside the back door
getting keys?
or waiting for Boss to let her inside
now that she's given him the password
like the way she flaunts her body every day
she has her head down
trying to hide her face from the passing cars
because i'm riding on my way
to hear a woman preach to me
that abstience is freedom
and she knows!! because
she got pregnant AND married at age 17 and
she has been happy for 34 years
because apparently
at 17 she knew she was in love forever
and that she would be with only this person
for the rest of her life
but it's not okay
for us to make that decision
it's not okay
for us to go past a quick kiss and hug
because we ned to think about
GOALS
CHILDREN
MARRIAGE
well.
i know already the terible mother i would make
so i am skipping that one
and i know that i dont believe i can fit into marriage
as a stiff mediocre medium
i know my goals
and i can't see how young love would hurt them
you have come too late
we have minds of our own, now
you should have gotten to us
when they were teaching us how to conform
and i can't decide who makes me sadder
the Adult Fantasy girl
or you
with your fancy slides
thinking you are happy

Wednesday, April 02, 2003

you're always two steps ahead of me
flying along through streams of people
hard to keep up but
i'm right behind you
and you're still that milk-fed shake-head
you move and you're flying
float
pick me up in fiery skies
fly
pick me higher from these seas
you with charm-stung skin
your jumpy nerves reflect
the anxiety of your mind's eye
transmitted through your hands, your shoulders
your heart
flutters.
thump down deep
beat too hard
little bird trapped
little weak bird flies too hard
and she has got to sleep
because she shimmers through sheets in the moonlight
and this little bird cries too hard
she's up and she's lying
FINE FINE FINE
they shackled you
in the cage where your heart
beats so hard for you
it won't break
you are strong-willed but
they won't let it shine through
shape-changing for them
why
i see you like that
and i want to die
for my freedom
for yours
i want you to know what i do
feel the wind and cool breeze in the air
without monkeys having parties down our spines
i want to help flay whatever's haunting you
cast out the spirits they put in your head
because you're beautiful
and that monkey is an asshole
we'll throw him and his bananas
right out the window
and i do believe that
if we jumped out after them
we would grow wings
and sail the sky
navigate a new horizon of mysteries and beauty
let sunshine pour from thirsty eyes
into our hungry hearts

Tuesday, April 01, 2003

i don't know where imagining ends and real begins
the lines blurred between us
i'm swimming through it
and you are stuck on the bridge
the trolls underneath are telling you
not to cross
and you have never noticed them before now
now that i stand on the other side
with outstretched arms waiting
you sink back
i wait
the more this thing festers
the less it is about two people
the more it is about trolls under a bridge
and monsters under the bed
and whatever it is that you are scared of
and the things going through your head
you are deciding for the demons
this thing is dead before it can be begin
after this anticipation
and the terror of the rejection i'm saving for later
because really
i'm the hideous beast
grotesque and unlovable
what made me think
i could be worth something to you?
blind monster
lost in a river of souls
drifting amongst the trolls

Monday, March 31, 2003

crammed into a safe place
me: fit between new and newer
between the sky + the pavement
between the cartoon elf faery pixie angel
between safety i found with you
and the danger i knew was there but never saw
i love this tilted edge
i am free in the cold silk air
my heart catches fire
comfort is
being quietly stuck between love
and the jagged infinity
racing through the streets
in a car that has been familiar until now
being LOUD and firmly me
hanging into night air's cradle
over rolling asphalt
while slick yellow lines chase each other down forever
i'm in a state
in a theatre
in a lap
in laughter
in bliss
i am happy
this is where i want to be
a perfect medium
pain vs. beauty
i would rather watch you and say i wasted my time
right now we are different people
internally changed
by sparks + presence
with thick love nearby
clouds that have been passing us by
are clouds we are now lounging in
the ice we have been hanging on
melts to reveal thin shoots of beauty
stuck to the roof of
the place where our dreams are waiting for us
our bodies are heavy with our skin on tight
unchangeable we are stuck in
we are NOT stuck in life
we have places to go, people to meet
you can't define us while we are still in the making
look at where we're headed
we have creations to make, people to be
you can't stop us now

march 31 in mythology

Saturday, March 29, 2003

fallnpoet: ok i hope u stop crying soon

aLittleStarlight: so do i

fallnpoet: please dont



i like that. write about it.

Thursday, March 27, 2003

i lean over the railing to see
her initials spiraling down the twisted staircase
close cropped haircut from the top
makes me smile
and at the same time i notice
she's standing behind me
close cropped elf
staring down the back of my head
my silent statements drown on twisted staircase
she can't hear what i'm not saying to her
because of all the noise in here
i back out
into impersonal vanilla-filled flowers
and i'm sent
right back out
chasing down the girl who ran
we've got to get out of this
she's got to get out
she got out
i'll remember today as cutting class into slices with her
and chewing reality's numb bones
in our tiny white-bread white-bred teeth
until we were sick to our stomachs with melancholy melodrama
and burning constant invisible tears into the dirt of a tired world
we back in
to imperfection within stiff specificity
trying to hide our sores
even locked into sterile cubicle-boxed minds
we could still soar

Tuesday, March 25, 2003

i am looking for a glimpse of you
in the hall
by your locker
within classrooms
i memorized your schedule
and i've changed the flow of my day
just to see the wool on the back of your sweater
flying away from me down stairs
i'm creeping up behind you
breathing you in
breathing you deep
why do you run
we are just alike
we are monsters together
hearts racing secretly
hiding in cages in our chests
fingers reach out stealthily
through blackness toward each other
connect
we make red
connect
light shooting sparks
blows my cover
you are worth my exposure
we are worth this
now where is the paparazzi?

Saturday, March 22, 2003

as you can somewhat gather from the last post, elise, morgan, and i attended a DiY workshop at MeDiA Co-op earlier today, where we were hugely honored, even if they did make a mistake about morgan's age. the workshop was great. we're consiering buying final cut express and i think we are going to try using mics on our next project that will require them. which will probably be what morgan is focusing on right now -- retold fairy tale(s). everything is going great but we aren't being very tasky, which is sad. we didn't get as much accomplished over spring break as we had hoped, but we filmed a little for elise's movie, and at least we got some supplies for robin's. katherine is having ram issues with adobe premiere, so her elmer tribute has yet to be editted, and her music video is on a very long hiatus. as for me... editting rabid beaver broke my soul, and i don't even want to look at it to put the finishing touches on it. and until i get it off the harddrive, i don't really have space for something else. and some time soon i also intend to edit what was filmed of the play that elise, morgan, and i were in a month ago, country spacecraft ballerina. i'm also trying to film what i can of elise's movie on my own, and basically trying to get everyone else to remain tasky!

god, why do i have to do everything?!
The following is taken from MeDiA co-op's "Filmmakers to Study (diy pioneers)" written by Morgan Fox: (and we retyped it like he did.)

Do You Know Where Your Children Are Productions

(Memphis, TN)

This is one of the most exiting things the city of Memphis has seen in years in reference to a film scene. Do You Know Where Your Children Are Productions is a group of aspiring filmmakers ranging in age from 11 [12] to 16. Before you assume anything, watch their films. Before you ever say you can't do it, watch their films, before you ever do anything....watch their films, and watch out, because they're young, inspired, and talented as hell. "Recognized filmmakers" at the 2002 MeDiA Co-op digital filmfest, with the premiere of Romeo and Juliet revisited, an approximately 17min short film compiled entirely by the troupe was a smashing success to large audiences. With the troupes new series of music videos, each directed by a different member of the group, and all pieced together, and for the most part filmed by editing Genius Alanna Stewart, has shown their continual evolution of stylistic experimentation and general openness to growth of technique and form. Watch out, these genius youngsters roam the streets armed with camcorders and creative visions daily, waiting for their next project to unfold.

Their films are in the MeDiA Co-op archives



(WOW!)

Thursday, March 20, 2003

i am watching my life as a movie
out of the picture
i see her in the hallway
we don't make eye contact
actually she didn't see me at all
i saw her from miles away
section Z up in the balcony
up there the actors can't see me
i am walking in a story book
pasted on the picture
cut out and walking through some scene
no one can touch me
i am not here
in glass beside my eye
my hair's reflected in the sky
i think if a plane were to appear
it would make more of an impact on me
than anyone down here
i sit here all fucking day just staring into space no smile on my face. what the fuck am i writing? i am trying to escape from the latin language and ms. haughton's evil eye. but it's a good day because i made a couple people laugh even though i annoyed several more. i always just wanted to create some emotion get some response as long as i'm still me. it's not that i feel like it's my duty to be happy. i enjoy it so much i can't waste this 2o minute oasis like i wasted this paper. i think this girl i know hates me now. i was always afraid of this because she is so fiercely adamant about hating someone but she is so nice when she's talking to them. there were always two kinds of food-throwing situations. friends as jokes or she's sick of that person she wants to throw some baby carrots to signify how mad she is and laugh it off. she threw fruit at me during lunch. it's kind of funny but i don't think she meant it kindly this time. i think she doesn't want to tell me to go away because for that she would have to speak real words to me. that's okay. i liked my 2o minutes.
fuck! i lied. i just smiled.
something funny happened and i didn't even see it, but cody behles who looks like a teddy bear, burst into a huge quick laugh so different from his usual giggle. plus i'm bored of gladiators and this day is too long.

Tuesday, March 18, 2003

i couldn't not notice the daffodils this morning
i'm falling in love with spring
a betrayal, i know
summer season love
has always been so obviously automatic
but now
i'm falling out of my own winter
seeing beauty
sensing love
a betrayal
but hey maybe i'll find that
summer is even more amazing
now that life is
and shouldn't my favorite season
reflect my state?
environment inside and out
my inner season is starting to leak out
pouring green over trees
licking up baby violets
smell the roses
spring is coming

Monday, March 17, 2003

i know you are scared
me too
i am scared out of my mind
and widly thrilled
you are afraid of kissing me
i am afraid of kissing
i am trying to act calmly
i have to contain this fear
i have to prove that i am better
than what came before
i will not make their mistakes
i have to show composure
because when you sound so sad
i need to make it better
you:
beautiful purring voice raining tears into my answering machine
me:
are you okay what's wrong what can i do
you:
no i don' t know i don't know
me:
helpless
you:
dying
i can't stand to stand by
while you are drowning
i don't have any remedies for problems
that can't be named
that i wouldn't understand
that are too big for my tiny body
yes i am blaming this on my family too
my little hands are dad's
granny gave me tiny feet
hell, we're all too short
i am a greyhound
shrinking i can fit myself to you
curled up small in the curves
please keep pouring your tears in me
my tiny body is still so empty
i need to know that you
aren't keeping your Issues in
baby
i am scared to death of fucking up
i am scared of just me
i am scared that you will realize that i'm not what you
thought / expected / wanted
i am wrong
you just wait
but don't worry
i am going to leave the phone on
i am going to leave the window open
i am going to be there for you
inevitably available
your blazing fingers sing
we're on fire now
the waiter set my plate down
"thank you" as i'm contemplating
what the fuck i ordered
i rotate the plate to see if this
creature
is more manageable from another angle
mom is smiling secretly
she reveals that
she knows
she is okay with everything
like i knew she would be
but over lunch because of one
silly mistake my sister made?
while she's sipping brown ale and
i'm trying to figure out
how to bite into my sandwich
funny because nothing has happened
we are just doing what we have been doing
plus talking
it's just a proposal
i am insistent.
mom says
"my january baby's growing up
my little girl's in love"
but she's always been
such a silly woman
and hopelessly romantic
so i don't know how to act around my family
they have never known something so big about me
i am so good at keeping hidden
and when this was right in front of them
did they see?
No.
it took a little nudge from a poem
that accidentally got left in their line of vision
not even my mistake
because i know how to wipe my tracks
as i'm running away backwards
so i'm on stage melting under bright lights
EXPOSED
performing a facimile of my life
i have forgotten how i used to be
i have forgotten my act
i'm trying to seem normal as usual
i have forgotten how to be around her
and i know they can see it now
when i lay against her shoulder
i hope at least they have a memory of who they think i am
that they can reteach to me
so "hi mom!" here's a shoutout to my family
the nosy noisemakers discovering me in here
back again? who let you in?
we'll get a bouncer for this haven
"All right, people, let's go somewhere else." Ironic that he even calls us "people" because the way he says it, he obviously doesn't believe that his words are intended for actual "people." We are never "people." We don't ask so much. Every morning Coach Fucking Brooks wants us to "move along" speaking generically into the air and onto the heads a foot or so below his level. Hey Coach, what's wrong with us right here? Are we in somebody's way? Sure, we are standing by some lockers but we are ready and willing to scoot over if some kid needs his books. Where are we supposed to go? Is there a designated spot in this huge school that we don't know about where we're allowed to see our friends before homeroom? Shouldn't it be okay to just be us for a few minutes before we slide back into the daily grind, just to have this one moment? Each of us could walk to our various homerooms in thirty seconds or less. We've been to our lockers. We've got no particular place to be. So Coach Brooks, where the fuck are we SUPPOSED to be? I don't want to be listening to the gory little details of my locker partner's Floridian spring break and I know she won't ask me about mine once she is fucking done, two minutes before the bell rings. Hey I can't see my friends after school. They're busy at Bridge Builders and Mock Trial and Model UN meetings. Plus, we were working so hard on AP applications a week ago, and with all these projects and essays on the weekends... No, these are "people" who don't have time for me outside school. But remember, this is White Station! We are too busy with Extra-Curricular Activities and racking up the Service Hours to have friends! Much less, TALK to them! Heaven forbid, what if we actually got to SEE them sometimes? Oh no, what if we fell that far off our Spartanian horses? What if that happened? We wouldn't get into the right colleges, and we would lead terrible, poor lives! Lives of LOVE, not MONEY!! Because "people" are money, school is money, SUCCESS is money! And didn't you know? Success is power. Success is me in a suit. Success is my husband coming home from a hard day at the office to his loving wife and kids, and a great from-scratch Southern meal. I will be successful!! Fuck yr Princeton! Give me community!!! But look at these "people," they are beautiful individuals. We are writers and artists and we're going to make movies together. We're going to get married and move to California. FUCK YOU, COACH! YOU CAN'T COME!
on St. Patrick's Day
my homeroom teacher says that
the rule about getting pinched
if you're not wearing green
only applies if you're Irish
so he's circling the room
interrogating us
with evil fingers waiting
then he's at my desk and
i won't look up until he's in my face
i'm the only person who got asked two questions
i wonder why that is
Are you Irish?
No.
Are you okay?
Yeah.
hey what could i say otherwise?
"no i'm very not okay.
i'm definitely awful"
in front of unforgiving eyes
i'm supposed to reveal
how alone i feel
my terrible weekend
pain because i am unloved
mentally abused
unwanted
no friends
no love
i am supposed to tell that to
the bald man in the pale green shirt?
i don't think so.
but i lied anyway
Yeah, I am Irish.
No, I am more than okay.

Wednesday, March 12, 2003

i am wearing your jacket
because it smells like you
so i can close my eyes
and pretend that it's you making me warm
and not this piece of cloth
that you left lying in my room
hey you left a piece of you over here
hey you left pieces in my head too
hey you are everywhere
filling me up
and i like you like that
whenever i move
you're drifting through the room
i want your hands in my hair in your lap in the park
i want always to see you when i open my eyes
i want grin-filled mornings in mid-afternoon
i want waiting for you to wake on our cloud
i want studying your elbow and your twitching toes
i want you to be there soft
like your jacket
but even more soothing and
able to return my hugs
no flimsy cotton could
beat your comfort form
the zipper here could
never giggle back with me
i'm burying my face in your scent
wishing you were here
your angel wings cover us on our cloud
your angel skin covers me in their place
warm angel, your shoulder blades are wings
beating within you
beating your heart
i could hear them when i lay there
with my ear against your chest
my own breath fluttering weakly alongside
catch myself in solace
finding us in gold
glistening star-girl suspended in night sky
come down to me
wrap me up inside your arms
your feathers will stick after you let go