july 2017









august 2017




july 31
  8:19__  am

empty pages are followed by mania
or insomnia
or books about physics
as the bed weeps



















july 24
  7:28__  pm


and the third man to envelop the tiny cajin paints



 


july 24
  8:46__  am


sniffling on a rainy day
balance the java;
find the kleenex;
find the words...

the creaky floorboards signal life
the Cardinals squak and the guinea pigs squeak;
my brain roams through itself
pondering pondering
and art

while walking

and in this darkish smallish room
while a truck backs up in the park
and the temperature of nabob hits critical low
the gulps get bigger and farther apart
i write for the second time in a different way
but the first time in a clear way
that
i am an artist
and i will make art
eventually.

will you come along?









july 23
11:04 am

emptying bank accounts are annoying
for an ENTJ in the summer

and i learned something interesting yesterday.
my kid is good.

like me.










july 21
8:24 am

i had a premonition today's coffee would be sweeter;
today's burden lighter;
and that a moment of peace would come here.

and it did, in spite of my being ignored
it did, without effort,
and it did fill me
up


and the world remains the color of this page while i type
the big world spins
and kleenex, still, more than an arms length, forces me to get up,
while photos of sylvia plath flash across my screen;
this means i'm thinking
this means i'm calm;
this means i'm happy.



and yes, 1956 is one year that i often think about









july 20
9:01 pm

i wanted to thank the Swiss man
for something i can't admit







july 19
6:21 pm

it's the end of the day and the summer city buzzes
to the rhythm of strollers and joggers and European men in birkenstocks
some are arriving home from summer jobs
some are making their regular silly walk through the park
and most of the jeep windows are open with tanned shoulders poking through
the elderly Indian women sport brightly colored jerseys and the fair-weather dog walkers abound
a Swiss man empties the house of recycling materials
and sneaks a fag by the garage
the ESFPs honk for the neighbor to get in the fancy SUV
which i find rude in this era of cell phones
and Beverly signals for a moment to shut off the sprinkler
and i get lost wondering what it might be like to have normal women friends
but at least i'm not the agoraphobic woman who eats at the same restaurant alone every night.

i took fourteen minutes to watch the world go by
and i got a lifetime of memories


and then it started to rain on my screen







july 17
so many things are unwordable;

the house you see when you come in here
is the same house my twenty year old never thought was possible
and even though my 30 year old wanted more
my forty year old self knew not everything was doable
at the same time

so while the art wall may be gone
and the pizza board burnt
and the stone cracked;
i suppose our essence is burnt into these floors
and the hum of our lives
rolls down the hallway









july 16

happy birthday to her;
as i force myself to go inside,
to be,
i am reminded of scott kiloby and non-duality
as i alt-tab frantically

part of me runs out to buy a birthday card
that i should have thought about earlier
but i was busy thinking about other things
scrambling to preserve; to protect;

anger burns inside of me
for something i cannot control
and it seems to be the summer
of cold hamburgers.








july 14

mid-summer waking on a lake
the satellite images, from earth, are blue,
with the gift of waking early on a friday
only offset by capsuled coffee/hot water/contributions to climate change/












july 11
i don't ask for much
but maybe i do
as i sip my climate change coffee
a stiffer back and propped against the wall
while i chase back to the richer dream life
which is so full
but elusive

there are breaks in this perfect matrix
at times
crevices over which i step and peer down into
where the past is crystal clear
and did i mention I'm bleeding,
now that's always a very strange thing
since it's been nearly a year

and here in this format i can align my anger
one might say it is my laser; monochromatic, just not so coherent
but it's focused in a plane
and strangely i see that rue has also focused herself while i slept
although i wanted to sleep earlier
it's nearly nine
wish me luck









 
july 07
let's talk of the sun
in july
while we can
and the stillness
and the clean house
and the crab-apples