my    E l e c t r o n i c     pen                                                march  2 0 1 3                                                    the   i    n  d  e  x  

march 31

If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge,
 and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing.
Corinthians 13:2

woke up still in love, i am not nothing.

easter, easter, everywhere

march 28



sipping, not running, poots rests, from a long night with a pounding head.
dreams of an everyday housewife; questions for marlene; never to be answered, many.

M u s  i  c   i n     M y   B o n e s  a n d  y  o  u ...

march 26



a sleeping house lies
close to the ground
squirrels survive,
and reality abounds.


can a body be so physical, as to repurpose a frontal cortex, and this with one kiss, but, yes.

every quote you ever heard, every song i ever sung, somehow you are all of them.

and jann sung:

You are oxygen
You are medicine
you are everything that's good about the universe
You are everything you dream of
When you're nine years old
You are open wide
A million tears inside
And there is nothing that I would not do
To keep you well
No there is nothing that I would not do
To keep you well












march 24



a fixed router
a burnt finger
a miracle, nothing less.


march 23

i like the marieke font.
good morning world, good morning mEp, coffee, grey, grey, late march day. we're dreaming of boats, big and small, of summer weeks gone by too fast, of eventual spring, eternal summers, and maybe a disney cruise one day.

it's not a cruel world by design - transitional states were not designed - allow yourself to wake up poots, before letting the world in - but once you're awake, go back to the other worldto allow him in... lots of mood phasing, controlled or not, mood phasing, yes, coin that phrase.

and that's the key, men don't do mood phasing.

if i ain't surfin' bad stuff or thinkin' about it,

then i'm a dull poot.
 













y

    march 20
    


welcome snow, welcome spring.
poots lay in bed, twitter quotes pounding through her head
a mile a minute;
no wine, no worry, no woes.
what changed?

i am nearly good enough to find a new job.

shhhhhh..
let's not say too much at seven thirty seven
before the java's done...
except that the best thing about that place,
is still, you.

march 19 2013
    

there's a new car covered in snow this morning
waking up still alive yet hungry,
i cup my tiny breasts
and watch the world get whiter.

Marieke

Ay Marieke, Marieke, je t'aimais tant
Entre les tours de Bruges et Gand
Ay Marieke, Marieke, il y a longtemps
Entre les tours de Bruges et Gand

Zonder liefde, warme liefde
Waait de wind, de stomme wind
Zonder liefde, warme liefde
Weent de zee, de grijze zee

Zonder liefde, warme liefde
Lijdt het licht, het donk're licht
En schuurt het zand over mijn land
Mijn platte land, mijn Vlaanderland

Ay Marieke, Marieke, le ciel flamand
Couleur des tours de Bruges et Gand
Ay Marieke, Marieke, le ciel flamand
Pleure avec moi de Bruges à Gand

Zonder liefde, warme liefde
Waait de wind C'EST FINI
Zonder liefde, warme liefde
Weent de zee DÉJÀ FINI

Zonder liefde, warme liefde
Lijdt het licht, TOUT EST FINI
En schuurt het zand over mijn land
Mijn platte land, mijn Vlaanderland

Ay Marieke, Marieke, le ciel flamand
Pesait-il trop de Bruges à Gand
Ay Marieke, Marieke, sur tes vingt ans
Que j'aimais tant, de Bruges à Gand

Zonder liefde, warme liefde
Lacht de duivel, de zwarte duivel
Zonder liefde, warme liefde
Brandt mijn hart, mijn oude hart

Zonder liefde, warme liefde
Sterft de zomer, de droeve zomer
En schuurt het zand over mijn land
Mijn platte land, mijn Vlaanderland

Ay Marieke, Marieke, revienne le temps
Revienne le temps de Bruges et Gand
Ay Marieke, Marieke, revienne le temps
Où tu m'aimais de Bruges à Gand

Ay Marieke, Marieke, le soir souvent
Entre les tours de Bruges et Gand
Ay Marieke, Marieke, tous les étangs
M'ouvrent leurs bras de Bruges à Gand
De Bruges à Gand, de Bruges à Gand…

Read more at http://lyricstranslate.com/en/marieke-marieke.html#5yA5muOkBpte68la.99

march 18 2013
     another monday.

the house is extra quiet on  monday mornings, the rodent and the non rodents forage in four by four cages for factory produced food.
and you think YOUR life is meaningless?

hey, is that my lower back aching, thirty days be damned at my age,
incessant chewing morning til night, dreams i don't care about remembering,
and third time to get up for the kleenex box. argh.

poots falters on the fence this morning,
waiting for the lighter sun,
unsure of her mood,
 clearing her breathing,
listening to the rodent and the non rodents.


it's seven fifty one, some kids are already at school.

"if i'm well, you tell she's been with me now. she's been with me now quite a long long time"
- james taylor

march 17 2013
    in the middle

  all i notice is what i notice.

i honestly believe that i do not pass through time but that time passes through me.
when you know this, you refuse to watch television. you don't want status quo.
and, you understand very very explicitly that your brain is a product of the paleolithic era.
this also means that you understand explicity the future you will miss.
that's where i stand alone.

i'm certain that there is a way to teach her she is in the middle without upsetting her too much.
i just need to figure it out for myself, first. i'm getting there. wish me luck that i'm not too late.

so yes, take your pinterests with you, from the glass hallway to the glass ceiling;
i've put you in a box oh, so long ago without evening knowing i had.
i've mocked you, i've tried to become you, i've hated you and i've loved you.

now, what's next, if only i knew.

a little story.

march 15 2013
    beware.


8:14 it felt like a long sleep









march 14 2013
it feels like spring...



then, i had no choice.



 



march 13 2013

then i saw your face....

i was a non-believer, said poot.
then, i had no choice.
is this a fleeting chance, roberta, a rush of wild wind, the scent of a summer rose,
or, do miracles actually exist.
waxing waxy is difficult, in public, and even in private,
but i need to try...

and even without the calculations,
without all measure of belief,
months and months later,
the sun outside my window
still rises over a new dawn;


sometimes, you don't even get a chance to dream something
then you're a believer.
whether you believe it, nor not.

imagine waking up like this.

march 12 2013
    3 days passed


hummers humming, time change leaves little poots awake early, and everyone else fast asleep.
the gentle hum of snoring means everything is alright in the world.

baring all on paper, i only dream of such a thing for the mEp. i am not sure even Frankie is ready for that, yet.
can what is important to me, be so fucking different from everyone else, and poots changed keyboard settings and cannot type a question mark today.

more coffee, a kleenex box, and i am back, still with no apostrophes.

3 days passed, settling back into real life, the goal is to keep the stress out. the pressure was too much.
several pages onto paper last night, for everyone, meant a quiet house with machines humming, bellies fed,
homework done, and other small miracles, nonetobenamedhere.

but on that paper, notes, in large square brackets, tell of truths, singoutloud truths, with no one but myself to sing them to.

it is seven twenty am, the sky doesnt care the time, nor the humming, except the hummers.
soon, it will be time to start running again.