This is my sister

This is my sister...

the woman with two children.

"Quiet. I want to sit and listen to the rain. Stillness and stationary. No more voices; know more peace.

Where I live now, it's not hard to get depressed and anxious. Last two mornings at 5:00am, I've been out taking pictures of the sunrise. Seen an old man picking in the dumpsters. It should have broken my heart... only now with the rain falling I cry for him, because in this place you can't cry. I have grown wary and doubtful. Mine eyes deceive me. Should I remove Thee, offenders to my senses?

I went to see doctors, they give you pills; numbs the pain of being lost, feeling lost, and seeing the lost. But you just store it until you can tap into it. Have one or two or six drinks, it will find you. It will sneak up until you are bare bones exposed; brains and heart splayed for all; like a jump from a twenty story building.

Alcohol is not used to grow closer in the traditional sense, it's used for sex and forgetting, not sharing and being open.What happen to sharing around a fire and sweating in a tent ? Not only for the men.

What happen to running in the rain? Being free. Being sexy free and unafriad of looking at people in the eye?Now only: fearing the passing of one more judgment based upon a five second interaction. A look and a brush off. Fuck you, you don't know me.

That is not me. Years ago I would have not been so bitter. I thought that I had a chance of escaping... I've seen too many dragged down. No happy endings. I cry for them, I cry for me. I cry for my children who take my stress and outbursts and will form from it's aftermath a hate for me that is so strong it will make them afraid to be real with me later in their lives.

I keep reaching out but all I get is water on my palm.

I want to stand out in the rain and let it hide my tears and wash away the false. I don't think anyone here would understand.

Want if all at once everyone stopped what they were doing and went and stood in the rain?

Would we all realize how much we all need to be seen crying? To have someone ask after us and our children?

Or would we find out that upon being all together we would have less to cry about? "

Always have hope.

If you let the world turn one more time
my feet will go wheeling under me
the milestones will crack and turn over
you'll be excited next to me

if you let a hand sweep through
I suppose we'll make due
with the time I waste in haste
in truth, I want to know you

If you let the moon come up
and the light is pale
the skin I seek with a mind in bright
soft luna and temperate cover'd night

If you freeze the rain to white
with a fire to fight off night
with a warm engulf we share
this is new to you?

What could you want with me?
I guess I'll see, I guess I'll see.

Something is not right.

My last post did not sufficiently capture what I've been thinking this past weeks. I think it is coming to a head tonight because I am listening to a song that the Grant sisters put on my birthday mix. The song is doing something to me needed to be done.

The truth is I don't understand the world. I don't understand death, entropy or hate. To day was spent mostly inside trying to write up some cohesive, comprehensible personal statement for medical school. Look past all my hate, blemishes and my death to what I can be. That, I think, I should repeat, slowly and clearly, to myself.

This song is changing my brain. It is churning up the still light mud that is bound to cloud the water upon disturbance. I don't care if I make sense anymore. I'm sick of pretending that I have to make sense cause everyone thinks everything should make sense, when nothing makes sense.

I'm sick of mass killings, present and past. Entire legions of soldiers dying, entire groups of people starving, migrations of people that end in doom. I sick of classes and corruption and the splitting angry bastards. They should all blow blood vessels.

"The out-of-jointness of the universe."

The more I am around the homeless and addicted, the more I watch people suffer, the more I don't understand.

And am I going to die at the hands of an oppressor or someone who is invested in the status quo. I think so.

Cause the universe just does not make sense, and I've never felt like my spirit belongs. I realized this very young and I would discuss it in my youth with friends when our minds were fresh as beach sand, ripe to have a sand-piper of ponderance leave tracks. But that has been washed by the tides of time.

What hope can I find. In the moment? I don't want to regret those days or waste my time. I have precious little time here, and though I feel like I don't belong, I know only this. I know only unimaginable suffering as they are conveyed by words and images.

One thing is sure: I'm not losing this state of mind. I thought I had, but I'm sure it is back. I'm glad, cause I can realize how lucky I am.

Something is just not right

"I don't want to live here anymore."

"Oh, you regret the move you made?"

"No, I don't want to live here, now, anymore."

"What other choise do you have?"

"I've been reading about Themepolae."

"What the hell are you talkin' about?"

"Defeat of the Spartan legions at Thermopylae. They were out numbered 10 to 1 by the invading Persian army."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"The odds seem so much better. Their enemies had eyes. You could look into there eyes."

"Again, what are you talking about?"

"They fought to the last man. That was their law. They use to say learning comes only through suffering. I'm starting to thing I've stopped learning."

"Maybe you should start taking the whole pill instead of half. Think that would help?"

"I think my enemy needs a face. I would happily follow the law to the last." 

Done

Download and listen.

What is the meaning of this?
somehow we crossed, our ways

[low]
you were raised on the grain, of plains
show me, oh show me the waves

gonna be a long time
till I find

oh the meaning of this...

Can I have one more day
with you
and maybe we two
we can grapple with perfection

tried to say, in my way
there's no one like you

I'll come to m
can you hurry if I asked you to

maybe in a long time
maybe in a long time
maybe in a long time we will find

Miss River

What is the meaning of this?
somehow we crossed, our ways

[low]
you were raised on the grain of plains
show me, oh show me the way

It's gonna be a long time
till I find

oh the meaning of this
this encounter, strange.

rough but a beginning

The elder sister

I was fresh in my homesick
when you arrived that evening
your sister's smile, familiar
your shapely graceful demeanor

silver and hemp
were you ornaments
joy and vitality
your adornments
on me

you've claimed me with your touch
struck me right with a smile
as we shared childhood gems
the quick moving fog
rolled in.

creased: the dress you wore on your form
you did not care, you cast that aside
it fell over your frame
the sun blushing your shoulders
and I'll never be the same

and I told you so...

that night, doing maybe again
what you do to many
to me for I was there alone
but I kissed you, though in fearing:
you are flavored-minded, seasoned
particular in taste, would protest
You didn't

pleasure is the mode
and that I longed to elicit
your sighs of release
and the other signs
the smooth sheen of skin
all on your side, I worshiped you.
I don't mind.

all the moments in a handful of days
stirred my dormant heart
so I admitted to you, while we lay
"I've not met the likes of you"
your form, your presence, your gravity

but I have a feeling you, in your way
meet men like me
every-
day

A new twist on an old favorite.

I found this pasted into some self-obsessed girl's myspace (Melissa Sumitra Royblog. Wow, shit. I couldn't resist.

THIS IS TO ALL MY GIRLS:

You need to find a guy who calls you beautiful instead of hot.

( What you need is a guy with a more diverse lexicon; "I want to fuck your ass.", would be replaced by the more diplomatic "Let's make love a 'new' way.", and so on...)

Who calls you back when you hang up on him.

(I.e. someone who puts up with you being a cunt.)

Who will stay awake just to watch you sleep.

(Say, a male, with no job, and an addiction to methamphetamines. Specify also if he should be in the same room, cause I'm sure there are plenty of guys watching you sleep/undress with high-powered lenses from across the street.)

Wait for the guy who kisses your forehead.

(Oh, the one who is supremely condescending. What if he does this while telling you, even though he came home smelling of alcohol and 'another women', that you are over-reacting and you should just put down the paring knife)

Who wants to show you off to the world when you are in your sweats.

(That is, your assless sweats, or the ones that cost him a truck load of cash.)

Who holds your hand in front of his friends.

(To drag you away from your friends when you become drunk and verbally abusive.)

Wait for the one who is constantly reminding you of how much he cares about you and how lucky he is to have you.

(I.e. the one you would never want because that kind of admiration makes you want to vomit. Wait, great way to lose weight, maybe you do want him.)

Wait for the one who turns to his friends and says, "...that's her."

("That's the one who lets me call her a whore in bed. I'm so proud.")

other Ocean

I come at the strangest of times
to commune with you, Ocean. 
You are not the sea near my birthplace, 
near wear my sister raises her youngesters.
But you know her because you are sister seas, you with all others, are one. One with the water in the sky and even that which is trapped in the land.  I come to commune with you because I need not ask questionsof you. I need not ponder you, explain you; I don't require great deeds of you. Yourself, you hate me not, nor do you love me or favor me. There is no guilt in your voice, no pain in your song, no joy in the saline breeze. 

I commune with you because I love you. You say what I long to here, what my mind needs to know: Ssshhhhh.....ssshhh

Cranberries

Oh, my life is changing ev'ryday

In ev'ry possible way.

And oh, my dreams,

It's never quiet as it seems,

Never quiet as it seems.

Note

I'm not a creator, though I would like to be.

I am a bystander. 

remember this second, flood the feeling of Sun

I've got great news...

I sat and thought. I'm inside on a sunny day and I'm okay.

Realizing, as I was sitting here, that I never had a chance.

That my regret is all about nothing, and all I've been trying to make right

is gone.

Happy... i've not been this happy in so long.

In Love with Love

ME

Candle

The candle needs a shade
to light the way

trials and trails and roots in the way
it needs the shade.

to throw the light
in a helpful way

the light in the eyes and the praise still comes
the outline of arteries and veins
like the roots in the way

look left and right
and try to look down
there is a blanket on the ground

it's dull and orange and smells of pine
covers the natives and the poor
lime and bone, moss and snow

Light another candle, cause the way is lost
but the shade is all that's needed

the roots are so thick
and rise like bridge which under
feet are lodged

the candles falls out and down
catches fire to the ground

catches fire all around...

My sister

If I was never here, what if?

and my foundation is dirt and dank.

I remember so little, sister. 

Did you go to prom, did anyone take pictures?
Are they fading in the ground?

Did anyone ever tell you that you are beautiful?
Did anyone tell you that you are loved?

You are so easy to cut to the core, so easily ignored. So easily dismissed and disgraced. But you will always have grace, through my eyes. 

I've never told you. I should've told you. 

I'm sorry. 

Every Life.

Every life is beautiful.
Every life is tragic.

Your life is a beauty.
Your life is a tragedy.

What are you so happy about?
What are you complaining about?

You've not heard a word I've said. 

My eyes...

This is what i've learnt

1) don't expect the wound to miss the knife. 
2) loneliness is a drill.
3) the mind is a holding tank. sometimes needs patching, sometimes becomes full, often time empty.
4) loneliness is a sharp drill
5) the tank's sides are weak
6) you can't look at the content all at once. 
          or you'll drown by the sight of it. 

As an act of contrition, this posted was edited.

Enjoy the Spring.

I like this song

The days go on, the lights go off and on
And nothing really matters when you're gone
If you think that you feel nothing at all
If you don't (If you don't)
Then you don't (No, you won't)
If you won't
Then you won't
And I will
Then I will