Being raped by the dream man on the dirty side of the motel land was less painful than seeing her.
I was getting used to picking around the crusty dilapidated surroundings, trying to find a safe place to stash my few possessions
Squatters wandering like Thai dogs, homeless wolves.
Unending despair, heavy like a sopping wet down comforter, speckled with mold, stained with human markings. All this was bearable.
It wasn't until She walked out of the space and over to the picnic table that I snapped.
my heart ripping aching thudding tearing uncontrollable achey longing sadness despair
She spoke to everyone but me
my eyes were like a cat on a bird, pointing. She never once glanced my way
everything inside me wanted out of the skin case/ i wanted to hack off my limbs/ to decompose, to begin to feel nothing/ for once
to represent the hallow that I felt.
Mom tried to say she didn't matter and why
I defended her viciously
It had been years since I saw her and she was older now, and a transman, 52 years old with a 14 year old daughter.
None of that blunted the sharpness of how hard I wanted her to want me again. It's an indescribable ache, a thirst like maybe you'll die of dehydration.
I feel numb all over my waking body. I don't know how to be awake and my sleep is too often the situation above. My body wants to cry all day like the springtime rain.
be the same.
try to act like soil, then see.
I am inconsolable
I am perpetually heartbroken
in a human body this time
Monday, April 25, 2011
Monday, April 11, 2011
we are here to make and tell stories
My mind wanted to to race about it:
The familiar man sat down in a chair in the brightly lit room, his face etched in my brain... where does he work? Is he a chef? What does he know about me? Is he married to a colleague?
I tried to be honest, say real things
while fighting the racing questions, pounding like rain on a tin roof
what does it matter? who cares??
a face you cant shake
I am LISTLESS these days.
overflowing inspiration passes though me like a giant undertow
electricity that would send it into action is sizzled out by the dense water.
A balloon held underwater
a small fight
the cycle defeated. Inaction. a numb heart. clean hands are the worst.
I am home and can't get rid of myself.
His naked body breathes like a machine in the dark room- it is thick with sage stench and it reeks like locker room armpits and the hills of Ojai
soil and dust
the bushes white under the sun
at night glowing in your nose in the cool air, the sky would be powder sugar sprinkles on black velvet
MILLIONS of white stars spilled
delicious untouchable
his high blood pressure concerns me, i think about the pressure in the body, the temperature, the chakras spinning, all the lives and stories of the soul layered in there
sleeping
At night I close my eyes and instantly pictures appear and stories unfold
tonight wood carved zebras then screen prints then animations of them all black and white and stripey jumping through the pass into the next time or page. I get a rush of last nights dreams: Not yet packed to leave in the morning with everyone- still a twin bed made, stuff in the closet, on the shelves. Not enough bags or time or wherewith all to complete any of the packing.
In Hollywood there is a bird store Poni took me to. They had a pair of birds in one cage with a handwritten tag that said INTER-SPECIES BONDED. A Parrot-let and a Parakeet. My heart a blaze.
It is impossible to describe how I love the inbetween. How I want to live my life inside the waterfall
Not in the cave behind it
not in the body of water in front of it
just inside holding both
without language without a shape of a cave or a body
shapeless
moving
unable to draw an outline or hold it
My heart was on fire
staring at the two birds knowing their love is real
I feel cut in several ways, slices stacked so heavy that being this person is pressurized
everything and nothing
is the most accurate way to say it.
This soul has been places I am not interested in remembering
I feel woven into millions of human stories and I feel absolutely alone in the darkness with the sage smell cool in the air, alone in a body you don't want in a life that seems wrong.
How on earth did I end up here? With this story, in this conversation??
What I was after was being the sound of foam crackling white as the wave slowly pulls back in
What I understood was the stillness of rock, the layers of the earth under the crust, held with gravity in a silent ball, dark.
I know I am getting older and my body says make a baby, so I realize a soul wants a body to live in...
but after my experience and all my questions of accuracy, I am thrown
It seems life has the tendency to be a domestic abuse situation
thrown into a wall, a smashed cheek bone and busted lip
and then the Parrot-let and her lover...
I am not bored with my life
I am overwhelmed beyond reason
I am paralyzed in a human body
I am awake at night like this, about to leave to the places in dreams I can never describe
where "I" dissolves in the inbetween
The familiar man sat down in a chair in the brightly lit room, his face etched in my brain... where does he work? Is he a chef? What does he know about me? Is he married to a colleague?
I tried to be honest, say real things
while fighting the racing questions, pounding like rain on a tin roof
what does it matter? who cares??
a face you cant shake
I am LISTLESS these days.
overflowing inspiration passes though me like a giant undertow
electricity that would send it into action is sizzled out by the dense water.
A balloon held underwater
a small fight
the cycle defeated. Inaction. a numb heart. clean hands are the worst.
I am home and can't get rid of myself.
His naked body breathes like a machine in the dark room- it is thick with sage stench and it reeks like locker room armpits and the hills of Ojai
soil and dust
the bushes white under the sun
at night glowing in your nose in the cool air, the sky would be powder sugar sprinkles on black velvet
MILLIONS of white stars spilled
delicious untouchable
his high blood pressure concerns me, i think about the pressure in the body, the temperature, the chakras spinning, all the lives and stories of the soul layered in there
sleeping
At night I close my eyes and instantly pictures appear and stories unfold
tonight wood carved zebras then screen prints then animations of them all black and white and stripey jumping through the pass into the next time or page. I get a rush of last nights dreams: Not yet packed to leave in the morning with everyone- still a twin bed made, stuff in the closet, on the shelves. Not enough bags or time or wherewith all to complete any of the packing.
In Hollywood there is a bird store Poni took me to. They had a pair of birds in one cage with a handwritten tag that said INTER-SPECIES BONDED. A Parrot-let and a Parakeet. My heart a blaze.
It is impossible to describe how I love the inbetween. How I want to live my life inside the waterfall
Not in the cave behind it
not in the body of water in front of it
just inside holding both
without language without a shape of a cave or a body
shapeless
moving
unable to draw an outline or hold it
My heart was on fire
staring at the two birds knowing their love is real
I feel cut in several ways, slices stacked so heavy that being this person is pressurized
everything and nothing
is the most accurate way to say it.
This soul has been places I am not interested in remembering
I feel woven into millions of human stories and I feel absolutely alone in the darkness with the sage smell cool in the air, alone in a body you don't want in a life that seems wrong.
How on earth did I end up here? With this story, in this conversation??
What I was after was being the sound of foam crackling white as the wave slowly pulls back in
What I understood was the stillness of rock, the layers of the earth under the crust, held with gravity in a silent ball, dark.
I know I am getting older and my body says make a baby, so I realize a soul wants a body to live in...
but after my experience and all my questions of accuracy, I am thrown
It seems life has the tendency to be a domestic abuse situation
thrown into a wall, a smashed cheek bone and busted lip
and then the Parrot-let and her lover...
I am not bored with my life
I am overwhelmed beyond reason
I am paralyzed in a human body
I am awake at night like this, about to leave to the places in dreams I can never describe
where "I" dissolves in the inbetween
Friday, April 1, 2011
the jogger
My sister said she was too tired to jog today
I said "yeah I know what you mean, for the past couple years now I have just been
too tired.
I used to know what the forest looked like, everyday
what gate to avoid
I would run in the middle of the road trying to keep the PTSD at bay
jumping out of my skin with each barking dog, a panic attack lady jogger
a person desperate to find sanity in the woods
Yeah- perhaps a few years of sleep....
I think the jogging was a way to wear out the mania swirling inside me like a storm drain gushing, like a frenzied heart on speed
reeling
Today- I eat white pills tinted yellowish
white pills tinted peachish
pills with food and water, pills before bed, pills that make me sick and sleepy.
In bed I close my eyes and see the forest, the certain tree that I marked my run by, it's roots and a silent prayer. Always the same. you will be okay.
breathe.
you are alive.
In bed I convalesce. My curtains are drawn, held under a stack of blankets. My skin and eyes want the darkness. My birds are morphing into one another, becoming the same color, creating the same mannerisms and behavior.
I realize I am becoming more and more like my stuffed animals, jammed up against the wall, slipping into the crack of the bed. All day quiet, fluffy white in the dark room painted pink.
I said "yeah I know what you mean, for the past couple years now I have just been
too tired.
I used to know what the forest looked like, everyday
what gate to avoid
I would run in the middle of the road trying to keep the PTSD at bay
jumping out of my skin with each barking dog, a panic attack lady jogger
a person desperate to find sanity in the woods
Yeah- perhaps a few years of sleep....
I think the jogging was a way to wear out the mania swirling inside me like a storm drain gushing, like a frenzied heart on speed
reeling
Today- I eat white pills tinted yellowish
white pills tinted peachish
pills with food and water, pills before bed, pills that make me sick and sleepy.
In bed I close my eyes and see the forest, the certain tree that I marked my run by, it's roots and a silent prayer. Always the same. you will be okay.
breathe.
you are alive.
In bed I convalesce. My curtains are drawn, held under a stack of blankets. My skin and eyes want the darkness. My birds are morphing into one another, becoming the same color, creating the same mannerisms and behavior.
I realize I am becoming more and more like my stuffed animals, jammed up against the wall, slipping into the crack of the bed. All day quiet, fluffy white in the dark room painted pink.
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