going to on to the day that and when not being in space from a vein
is better than not being any place other than on the face of the moon
with a man in the car found by the
side of the road thinking about the
nature of the night forgetting to turn
off the headlights as driving fast in
the dark alleviating elevation forgetting
to sneeze forgetting to find a way home
forgetting to make a call to the nurse
forgetting to find a place in the stars formation
of folly found the way forgetting how moon
was lit forgetting how many dollars were spent
forgetting the way forgetting to pay with change
in stead of cash forgetting to use the way forgetting
the freedom of finding a place in the hay
former selfish brute forgetting to find the truth
forgetting to make an excuse forgetting to
say the words forgetting to bring home
the doh forgetting to make a mistake forgetting
to bring back the cake forgetting to forget about this
forgetting to find the night as black as it was in the
past three days forgetting to move in the dark
forgetting to pay for the shake forgetting
to make the mistake forgetting to forget
forgetting to make the day less of
a piss drizzle forgetting to make you
know that five minutes from forgetting that
i have forgotten what a great smooth day
yesterday was really and that in a few
years yesterday will be more to remember
and stretch the hours like a glass of wine
making swirls of the dark matter making
it come off blind finding a time to play
and not for self but someone else not losing
out on an opportunity to share a good thing and
love a good thing in the dark shying away from
the words making them less of a way a good
thing less of a possibility of hope less of an
avoidance of the way that it matters to see and
doesn't matter to see it will take a lifetime to lose
this face how many will be there when it's what
I've got left to face making moves and not for
anybody there is a possibility of drizzle and a long
field there is a possibility of drizzle and the electricity
will work out better now there's water it goes on and
on it goes on and on it goes on and on the radio's
on it's an old song the man in the cowboy hat and
the wide smile on his horse talking about the west
and the mountains of red forgetting what he said
barring none and giving up what is good for the simple
reason that because and making the differences
between what and was to be what is good and
true not needing any other to make it sure a thing
to remember in the main for the time being glean
the flesh it was good years ago it will still be now
love the self that spells the words and makes the
true flight possible delete the rest the because it
will not matter and as the ball is rolling
backwards find that it's true now that it's
good now and all is good now if only lies
weren't in season and empathy was on
the front shelf that would be good at
this moment misunderstood made to
wait on the corner and till there was a
broken down bill you know it was only
what was that made sense then back then
in the way back then made easy as hel
l to know back then the good and the bad
through the front of your head they spilled
the beans and the beans spilled you made
love to the ducks and the geese found
not to squander every moment love
lash touch thinking about it not quite
as long as it was before i remember
once when it happened that
i had talked to myself and lost
It's so hotttt in here
Get me something to make me feel better
Misbehave with me, babe
I'm your love of choice
And you have all my shoes
Under your bed,
I'm in your head
Shakin my hips, sweet liquor lips
I knew you couldn't resist
We're both so sick
Kindly just some Words about your Last Tweet: YES we all must Agree it does not Matter who you are and Whom you Date.
As I Said it never has Been. But kindly Please Remember that all-in-all you are still a #CELEBRITY; And the very Nature of that Kind of Life will always - ALWAYS - draw Attention - GOOD and Otherwise.
Of course you already Know this given your Incredible Skill in Handling Yourself. You Definitely Deserve the Overwhelming Support you have Received - I Vouch for that - yet a Little WISDOM needs to be Included here.
And I don't mean the MEDIA. Your Name is already SYNONYMOUS with that. Please do not get UPSET if People here make it a BIG DEAL.
You Know you have Admirers who EXPECTED a lot from you. Especially Now since you are still in your PRIME. But then again you seem to Enjoy this Kind of Attention.
When you DECIDE - BE FIRM - AND STICK TO IT!
Stop giving FALSE HOPES to those who still Think they have a Chance which by a Large Percent will Never, Ever HAPPEN. I am talking about some of your Admirers here.
There's nothing wrong in being Open to your Sexuality; But as much as we Hate it this is a WORLD OF EXTREMES; You either ARE or AREN'T.
And what you Hinted on your Video can just AGITIATE them a Whole Lot More. Still Happy for you.
And your Partner seems to be STRONG IN SPIRIT - whoever he is. It no longer Matters on our end if we are IGNORED despite the Advise given to you; What Matters is that this Message comes out and you are made AWARE at the very least.
Most CELEBRITIES react that way, anyway. Why should you be any Different?
You Take Care now.
Photographs by Avedon
This was written in a friend's home in the Berkshire Mountains, on a Saturday morning, a few years ago. Up early, I went exploring their bookshelves and found a book of Richard Avedon's photographs of average Americans out west. Google "richard avedon photos of the american west" - then read the poem. Please, for without seeing the faces, for this will make all the difference. In the Berkshires, it is always chilly there, even in the summer sun. This and other obscure references are better detailed in the notes.
Join my warmth and
as the nine o'clock sun,
a 45 degree steeplechase
but still not
of the prior eve,
that hides in,
deep wooded hillocks
Join my warmth
and my chill!
head kicked awake,
entranced and revolted,
excited and repelled,
emotive, yet, stilled.
For oh so casually,
this heroic city dweller,
brave and fearless
retrieves a book,
to find a new route
thru time and space
to the center of his brain.
Photographs by Avedon,
of my fellow Americans,
the Have Nots,
These uncommon people
with whom I share
these drifters, the carneys,
the would-have-been cowboys,
busted blackjack dealers,
rattlesnake gut n' skinners,
coal and copper miners,
the hay truck drivers,
dirt so deep in
their pores ingrained,
colors and bloodies their souls,
browns their veins,
are the ones that
go off first to
in my name.
In this far corner of our
shared contiguous space
United States of America,
top of the line here
secretaries and maybe even,
But their eyes,
oh their eyes!
Words I do not own
to fair share with you,
the clarifying gaze
of measured dignity and
that marks and unites
these disparate and dispirited
vessels of humankind.
the noon suns finally,
raises my body temperature
browns my surface...
Yet, nothing eradicates
this god damn chill
in my soul
or calms my consternation,
as black and white
my comfortable existence,
as I ponder
All photographs are accurate but none tell the truth
The Evil Son at Passover
asks ever so sly,
what have they to do with me?
It is the Sabbath.
We luxuriate in our rest.
Rest is the greatest luxury
What is this Sabbath?
Heschel's cathedral -
in space and time,
and one enters
when and where
Do my distant,
(both in space and time)
share my Sabbath?
Are they allowed
or is it endless exertion,
severity and deprivation,
all and every day
of their lives?
Constant risk every day.
Who cannot fail to see the
precipitousness of life
edged in the lines of their
hearts and minds?
Day to day hardens them
and teaches the
Is the prudence of
their morning bitter pill
they must swallow
to carry on?
Among the resolutions
to claim a
life fulfilled is this:
How to end this poem,
close this can of worms,
accidentally kicked open.
Will sunset end these
of which you have
more personal variations?
(what about the ...)
Perennials flower everywhere,
along the Tigris,
even in Kabul and Somalia,
along the highways
to the mecca of
Perennials flower everywhere.
In warmth and cool,
in time and space,
they flower in my heart and
my brain and in
my prayerful tears.
flowing down my cheeks,
as I lay me down to sleep,
to dream these of
even celebrated tween
holy and common,
light and dark,
the six weekdays
between sacred and secular
between me and
my American Brothers
of the American West.
just one thing
to be true:
The Sabbath Cathedral is
open to all,
you choose to
I await you,
my American cousins,
with wine and bread
holy of holiest words
of comfort and sooth.
I will wash your feet and
lay you down to
in my heart.
we will be joined,
in warmth and chill.
August 29, 2010
* "In The American West" by
** many of the phrases in this stanza were taken from an article "The Few, The Proud, The Chosen" in Commentary, September 2010
^ Abraham Joshua Heschel, a modern Jewish Philosopher. Elegant, passionate, and filled with the love of God's creation, Abraham Joshua Heschel's The Sabbath has been hailed as a classic of Jewish spirituality ever since its original publication-and has been read by thousands of people seeking meaning in modern life. In this brief yet profound meditation on the meaning of the Seventh Day, Heschel introduced the idea of an "architecture of holiness" that appears not in space but in time Judaism, he argues, is a religion of time: it finds meaning not in space and the material things that fill it but in time and the eternity that imbues it, so that "the Sabbaths are our great cathedrals."
^^ Havdalah is the ceremony to celebrate the end of the Sabbath, and realize the distinctions between the holy day and the workweek, the day and the night, light and day...
There you are, structure, bones
standing tall in the sunlight
all of the personality drained away.
Oh, goodbye to that twinkle in your eye
Goodbye to that thing we couldn't put our fingers on, that thing that sparked passion
Because all you are now, is a skeleton.
A skeleton with so many ghosts, war veterans, teachers and teenage girls that I used to know,
That old version of me who skipped, smiled and run her fingers through her hair
she dances through the corridors when no-one else is there.
Along they came. Dress you up, ready for business. That's one thing I learned from this, patch yourself up, make yourself look okay and no-one will realise how broken you are. No.
No, they won't notice the graffiti marks of those who have been,
on your skin.
No, they won't notice those damp patches,
in the corner,
of your eye.
They didn't notice how your ribs creaked as you let out a sigh,
your final goodbye.
They certainly didn't notice when you closed your eyes to die,
I remember when you comforted me from the world with soft, warm arms and friendly words.
I remembered how you nurtured us and watched us grow.
A loving kiss on the cheek and off we go, but I couldn't let you go.
So here I stayed to watch you drift away with each passing day as they measured your waist,
for the suit.
Pull it in tighter.
A stitch here,
a stitch there.
Iron out the crease.
No room to breathe.
The suit may not cover your face, but it is a mask, covering up mistakes.
The mistake of your missing heart, the drive, the ambition.
The mistake of your missing eyes, seeing goodness in the world, giving beauty to the hopeless.
And the mistake of your missing smile, inspiration for lost souls trying to find their way home.
But you, you were home to me, my skeleton.
Now however much you lose or decay, you will never go away.
You will always be there, a ghost in my memory.
My loving skeleton who is now in a suit.
I tried to stay good but I was weak.....and for that juice I did go seek...I found this half empty bottle in the frige..didn't taste very good or very bad.....sure as hell wasn't the worst I've had....
I was so very upset and wanted to talk but u weren't avalible....and there was no one to sit and talk or go for a walk...all I could do was sit and think....and that's when I had a drink...
But I'm over it and not gonna drink anymore....didn't really make me feel any better.....so what the fuck for....
Step #1: Purchase new eyeballs.
Take the ones you have right now
out of their sockets.
Replace them with new ones that have
not seen the pain you’ve witnessed
so that they don’t form inquisitive looks
when you notice something you don’t like.
Replace them with ones that have not
yet cried all the tears you have cried before.
Replace them with ones that glisten
when spoken to - ones that don’t carry sadness.
Step #2: Create a new smile.
Smooth out the laugh lines around them
so that the world doesn’t know that they
carry the weight of the many smiles you’ve managed to fake.
Rearrange the smile you have
so that they do not drop in the edges
when you are sad.
Make sure that your new smile is not
crooked so that people will not question it.
Step #3: Get rid of your vocal chords.
Tie your vocal chords in a knot.
Double knot it, triple knot it, done.
Make sure that no matter how hard
you try, you cannot untangle them.
This will ensure that you don’t ruin
everything by professing exactly
how you feel about the situation.
Everyone will think you’re up for everything.
Everyone will think that you are great.
Step #4: Don’t keep your heart.
Rip your heart out of your chest.
You don’t need it to feel emotions.
You don’t need it to pump blood
to your cheeks when you’re embarrassed
or to give you away with its rapid beating.
You don’t need it to keep you here.
You do not need it anymore.
Having you in my life...
Is a Beautiful feeling...
You make me feel
With all that you say
And all that you do...
And today all I want to say is...
You are the one
And no matter what
I will forever keep Loving You!
days are spinning by and i think this is what remission feels like
i wish i could write
but this is all that i feel.
constantly losing battles is so hard
we play a losing game
i long for the person i used to be
or is this the person i’ve always been?
hold flowers between your fingers and think long and hard about something
something that you want real real real bad
maybe it’ll come true
so full of pain trying to be subtle i should be bleeding
word choice alone
should have given you a clue
and the consistent undertone of raw pure unadulterated angst and bitter humor
that isn’t funny at all.
Adventures In Good Deeds
i helped pick up the trash and i thought about volunteering at a soup kitchen
if only i could find the on switch
5 Hour Energy .
am i decent enough for one word biographies?
do i hold enough presence for silence?
can i afford to not begin my sentences with sorry?
i am barley a person
just a body with good organs
and no license to complain
“ma’am kindly shut the fuck up no one cares.”
that’s what they’ll say to me i’m sure
the thought police
who hate me and i don’t feel anything towards them
because i am nothing but apathy and stupidity
i don’t deserve anything
not joy or bad i don’t deserve either
not because i’m neutral but because i’ve never done anything to feel anything
not that i am undeserving of feeling the bad things
but there has been nothing in my existence to make me feel
spoiled brat woes and hearts sealed with classical silver duct tape
maybe a dash of pepper on a delicious meal that had no need for pepper
on the dot
sunday’s for church where the atheist goes because he fears and dreams
I'd rather die
Than be away
I'd feather die
Than lose you
I'd rather die
Than be told
I can't see you
I can't be with you
I'd do anything for you
Anything to make you happy
What ever it takes ill do it
I love you baby
Forever and always