september ... 2011 ...

my E l e c t r o n i c pen ... the 2011 edition ...

and with a (0), poots turns to the mEp
always a blank page;
never a pen;
left, and right, the sun rises again

early to bed
earlier to rise
again.

darkness, still, in the perimeter of the city.
PCIDSS problems, into the ether, bravely show you care
vaccinations for cancer now, choices, decisions
i wonder if it's harder becoming an adult, then, if you can better become one
john denver still soothes me; i guess he always will

alone; again; i can recall the hours i spent with this humming, turned to days, months, and even years now.
the names of those who followed me here; mostly crazy decisions;
i've said it a hundred times; the darkness, the fifty-eight degrees;
the distant - or not so distant -sound of airplanes through the palest of dawns;
the feeling that something unknown and a bit scary might happen,
always brings me back to LA.

so yes, years later, such a scary thing, is now nostalgic, comforting.
thanks god for that.

and now i'm conjugating in foreign tongues

Perhaps love is like a resting place
A shelter from the storm
It exists to give you comfort
It is there to keep you warm
And in those times of trouble
When you are most alone
The memory of love will bring you home
John Denver

early to bed
early to rise
always bothered me
until i learned to work against my constitution

so thank you, kathrin
and hello world

...

adele sings
fish gurgle
poots sips
all is well

another fuzzy head
it's friday
i have friends again
who are men
are they less judging

6:52 am - - - insert appropriate 'summer ending' phrase here - - -

the heater, waking slowly the first time, makes sounds of etincelles
and i'm reminded of obachaan, as the irish whiskey works its' way.
one bent ear, a cold shoulder, and silence, lots, and lots, of silence.

ears ringing through this empty house;
java back to normal,
poots body cycles,
it has good timing -
her mouth, chews.

clear morning, backspace, hit reply.
mothers need love, too.

and what happened yesterday, happened.
there are times to move on - and that was one of them.
good girl, poots.

mEpwords follow me around, everywhere but here, these days.
closing weather; the fall kind, greets us mornings through the christmas lights
and i scour the floor for the mamoth crocs, watery espresso in hand.
clarity! rest. apples.
eat.

conceptually, is everything a concept, or, do they stand alone.
i've asked this many times before of the universe...
are we allowed to make up our own mind?
pray.

consoling, chiding, cooperating, cohorting, cultivating.
love.

poots is staring straight ahead, now
erstwhile thoughts, notwithstanding.

clear automn dreams, running races, the University, and Regina Reid, friends with Mrs.Somebody or other, ladies Cynthia knew, entirely made up by my subconscious.
the little one ran along the sidwalk with her dog, she was kind, it was another time, and then later, an older man had died and we gathered in the kitchen at S's.
S told me, in her snippy way, not to drink the shitty wine.

any signs there, pat?

pepsi makes the morning, easier.
payday helps too.

however, stormy skies and pms greet an alone poot, and the little one climbs down.

things change, in september, summer seems to end.
no one notified me, the calendar wasn't updated.
invisible is lonely, and can't recall what was esconced, all of a sudden.

the mormon said, ask for a sign.
even Heisenberg knew that once you're looking, everything's a sign.

the sound of rumbling traffic before six am still reminds me of california
sepulveda boulevard; LAX, and little sleepy el segundo.
the christmaslights jump out against the shadows of the 16 degree trees, silouetted against a perfectly orange hued morning sky.

beauty, don't forsake me...

the coffee is bitter;
poots is up early
poots is sick,
a french virus and PCIDSS

6:55 am - - - sunny skies.

many shrinking, sinking, things
scant words, morning manhattan head
who sleeps

i used to lay bare questions here, a framework for my thoughts
"nowadays, i see your face, peering through the eye of a storm"
nowadays, pictures of people's wives can be found in a click,
playlists can be arranged in seconds,
and chatting with my bonnie, is free, and easy

other people have dogs

7:16 pm - - - where the weeks... they go.

not that forced feeling

evening manhattans through the christmas lights
darkness comes earlier
christmas will come
time hurdles forward
sore ache
meppishness

7:11 am - - - do my forearms look 46?

music, in different forms, surrounds me now

7:01 am - - - calculations

8:01 am - - - europeans

my spoon scrapes along the smithsonian mug as i lift it quickly for sips.
darkness clouds the sheers
a nine year old asks questions, comes to her own conclusions
mep-interupted

the java is weaker, when poots needs a strong one
bad pillows, warm stagnant early september air, followed me from school one day
email, only bills; the sky, early september gray,
and poots? ... take another sip.

...

a calm has indeed invaded this life
pleasantly, floating around here,
a bit of feng shui ensues

physically sound, if for ringing ears,
suddenly grounded.
no booze works.

"september morning always"

hungover; hungup; hanging.

cohesion is not working today

journeys of love

blue skies