the m E p .com


May 2017
    my    E l e c t r o n i c    pen


May 31

something about early morning connects us
from el segundo to snowdon
these early mornings are what stick in my mind
something about the early morning persists
is it the emptiness in the darkness
which reminds us of death
or the peaceful solitude
which reminds us of life

images of Sepulveda boulevard still flash through my mind
and paint themselves under images of 5327
that i will one day know

ultimately, this ENTJ asks...

is it ok to comfort yourself when those around you are inconsolable...

May 30

the fish tank crackles to my right
and my nabob is tepid;
of all the young people i've met online
none are like rue
footsteps begin
as i chew.

my brain orders things to deal with them fully
like time insists everything can't happen at once

spring sunlight trickles through the canopy
and this moment hits my retinas
but it's fleeting
and gone

rue's thoughts come out more succinctly

May 26

i invented a poetry contest with no rules;
a bike with no wheels;
a word without a thought

May 24

go inside and breathe
find something beautiful
it was the freedom which allowed you to be happy
and now same freedom brings you down

wash the dishes
water the flowers

May 23

we've planted and i made it thru the night
we've planted and the window is open
we've planted and we will watch them grow
planting is good
planting is great

we've planted and it will connect us
from inside our modified organic house
to outside our inorganic city

and as i reach for words through the fog of life
they swirl around in this brain
as i try to capture them and order them
and make sense of them

it's all about making sense, this ENTJ, and attachment theory
and being angry that no one wants to be attached

perhaps i am the outcast among non outcasts.

May 22
i made a list of unusual relationships
only rue liked it
she writes more than i do
and makes more sense
the Mac spins before i am awake
something i hate
to wake

strong opinions are never popular, in fact
people like mediocrity
lest they be judged
and they reduce everything to something simple;
when perhaps not everyone wants simple

broken hearts
broken dreams
broken heels


May 19

May 15
  1:21 PM

pain pain pain
grapes and money
a single rose
out of control

May 15

i'll wait for the browser to enter the text
i'll wait for it to load up the cash
i'm stronger and faster than the internet
than most things

after what life does to us
is there any option

i'm tough as nails
i'm good at that.

perhaps that is all i am

May 14

acid jazz on mother's day
it does not feel like my day
it feels like another sunday
with ringing ears
but with clean sheets

messmy mother never told me what to wear;
she did not force me to study
she assumed i would succeed
she never saw me cry
and she never said she loved me

this little body still sweats
the poor nights, the fears,
the bank accounts

but recalls, favorably,
the image of her, dancing at the mirror
in a tiny black dress
just like i used to do

May 13

mothers day is tomorrow people.

May 12 1:12pm
angry! i'm angry! i'm angry when i'm right and you don't listen! i'm angry when everyone suffers because of your selfishness! i'm angry that you put 10 dollars in her cleavage! i'm angry that you are delusional! i'm angry that there is waste! i am angry that you keep asking for money! i am angry that people have no sympathy for me because i'm strong! i'm angry that you are all so very weak! i'm angry that you are never angry! i'm angry that i have to be angry so often! i'm angry that i'm angry! and me and my jiggly thighs want to tell you how angry we are!!!

May 11

a rolly-polly headache gathers
my thoughts; my breaths; my mood;

shame about depression focusing all your energy on one thing
when your brain is so complex
it's ironic i guess

May 10

your short texts say more than you think they do;
i'm less old than you but i was not born yesterday;
don't hide your fears from me damn you;
though yes i do the same

waking up with dirty and messy hair is like being sick
being invalid, or in-sane, i don't know which,
at least there is sun after record rain and floods
though the shadow of my greasy hair in the fish tank

just remind me, your brain, why i'm here
why i listen
and why i write
just tell me where my thoughts are placed:
here for all to see
while some say they aren't thoughts at all
they are black and white and they are
all lined up nicely.

some days are like that.

May 9

my mind spends most of it's time wishing
wishing it could tell you stories
wishing it could reach out
wishing you wouldn't reject it
for being brave

May 8

we made it looks like it
we made it looks like we made it
the eyes above the dents on my nose gaze to my left out this dusty window
these leggings are too tight
these floods are too big
the fish tank is very loud
the urges to remain, remain

we made it to toronto
we made it through friday night
we made it to a surprise
we made it to a wedding
we made it back to the city
we are making it
it looks like
we made it

through making it i swirl
visions of art and a 98 year old woman
visions of flooded houses from a train
and a smiling face of a young woman who seems to like me

and rich foods
and a dirty house
and a baby
that made me cry


May 7

while the floods grew the leaves also did
and we were taking in art

- - - -

nicestAGOand we met a geologist on the train
and she was interesting;
not because she listened nor had anything to say
but because she listened and had nothing to say
because she was simply the embodiment of an ESTP
and knowing that makes everyone more tolerable

- - - -

my Fi goes out to anyone who has never known the appreciation
 of the fist few days of opening a patio door
to inhale the organic oxygen breaths of tiny little leaves;
 to feel a wet crispness in the air
that only brings new life, that a human can live with without a coat
and a hat
like a church basement
or a bike ride
or a walk in the park




May 3rd

Building again!


May 2

in 2007, i spent more time outside.

it's the seventh year

sometimes, i'm the rocket man

And I think it's gonna be a long long time
'Till touch down brings me round again to find
I'm not the man they think I am at home
Oh no no no I'm a rocket man
Rocket man burning out his fuse up here alone

May 1


being highly intuitive: i can choose
i can bend towards the bad or the good side
with my heart and soul

i can momentarily want joy; want it all;
or see only the despair in not being able to obtain it

and sleep, or not, or well being, or not,
fuels this pendulum
and i even hate watching it swing
and i even hate knowing it swings
but i hold on as it does
waiting to be on the other side
but only on the good side
because the bad side is not an option
it is not life
i reject it

and the rejection is the reason i swing