namesake

feels of forever since
i've seen your faces,
touched your soft places,
read your minds,
enjoyed your lines.

i've made like a
counting crows song
around here.

sorry, mom.
sorry, Jesus.


ghost

oneword: grown

These baby buds of hesitations and self deprecating questions have been nurtured over time.

By thunderstorm water cans, rainy day sunshine and selfish boy miracle grow... vines now climb to the moon and blossoms are rich and in full bloom.

This garden feels like home and seems to satisfy all of my needs, but upon a closer look the vines are thorned and the flowers are all really just weeds.

Stepping back from the moment

Stepping back from the moment was I think a sign of maturity, and sense. That surprised me as much as the impulse that prompted the stepping back. Mid sentenance I noticed her lips, and a forgotton memory eased free. An involuntary smile flitted across my face, and a gently laugh was surpressed.

Her lips were familiar in the way that a mother is familiar if you have met the daughter. She had the same lips that Mel had. Except she was a woman, and Mel is still a teenager, and ever will be. Mel was my first kiss. Mel is the standard all others are measured against. Mel is still 15, even though I have grown on.

I can still remember the sensual nature of that kiss, and fancy that the taste has never really left. But most of all I remember the big feeling from those small gentle lips. How could this little person have such power, and how could such a small little part of a person evoke so much.

And here in front of me is a stranger with the same lips, (but the adult version). So I had to step back. To enjoy the memory, and to ensure I did not get lost within it. Such Tempation! I have quietly added this moment to the memory of Mel, and will enjoy it on the quiet afternoons this winter. A little warmth to keep the blues away.

oneword: hostage

you've returned, and as always, are holding me in fear. i want to flee for my life, but you have cemented me right where i stand. i am stuck. i cannot move forward and there is definitely no turning back. i hate you for this. i hate you for this.

one day i will break this hold you have over me and i will escape. i will never be afraid of you again.

overdosing

maybe i could just overdose on mediocrity and start again.

i think i'm the only one i know who dreams in equations.

God, i hate math.




ghost

oneword: flashback

blink your eyes and your transported to a moment in time that haunts you. you can't shake it, you can't escape it. that moment you regret. you were afraid and now you'll never know. it eats away at you. you are reminded of that moment you didn't take what you wanted. steal it away into the night. you freeze frame on that moment. that one fucking moment that you had your opportunity to take it over. where you chickened out. and you snap back to reality. to now. this moment. and you realize...how long ago that was. let it go. live in the present moment. live here. live now. And you vow not to let another one of those moments pass you by. WAKE UP!

oneword: maid

Clean and purge this body. Empty out the dust, the dirt, the defenses. Shine some light into the shadows, and scatter the parasitic doubts. This is the time for rebirth, regrowth, rejuvenation. This is the time for me to emerge as I was meant to be. Glowing and radiant with the knowledge that I am in control. I am ready.

oneword: strung

tense and sharp like the strings were pulled too tight. badly out of tune and madly — full of fight. rings around fin­gers around necks. scream­ing lyrics of a lust that hasn’t hap­pened yet. out and up and turned around… where yes­ter­days hap­pen tomor­row and the sky lives underground.

oneword: secure

One day I would love to feel completely free to be who I am. I am afraid that I am not good enough...for anything, or anyone. I am working on that though. I am working to one day put myself ahead of other people. I am working to believe in myself, and to believe that I am a good person. I am working on my self esteem, and trying to build it. I would say re-build it, but it was never really quite stable. I think that I have spent entirely too long thinking the worst of myself, and hating myself. I am trying to learn to love myself and to respect myself. I am working to look myself in the mirror and like the person that is looking back at me.

oneword: trend

Like elastic bent into stupid shapes and colors, these things that fade in and out.

Beating to the tunes of our childhoods, adolescences, and adulthoods.

Vh1 devotes hours to poking fun. They're used as conversation pieces at parties, hidden deep inside the sea of red cups and Jungle Juice.

It's almost like we forget how much the trends define our lives--in all of its stages.

So salute the Silly Bandz, the Pogs, the Tamogotchi's, the Blackberry's, the I-pods, the Beanie Babies...not just because, for a brief moment, they've managed to bring us all together, but for the memories they've passed along.

oneword: wash

Every once and a while I need to wash myself clean, taking all of the grime that no longer serves me so I can move forward with a fresh perspective.

Yesterday, I started with my apartment. I cleaned, I vacuumed, I did laundry, I lit a candle, and could finally breathe. I still have so much to do, but this is a start.

oneword: balloon

I used to be scared of balloons. Okay, not balloons themselves--not their floatiness or their celebratory power...but the sound of them popping. And the fear that they would. I was also scared of fireworks, fire engines (especially when Santa Claus rode through my neighborhood on one around Christmas), and thunder. Any loud noise, really. No matter how expected. See that's the thing. Most of the time...we see this stuff coming. And I chose to cower.

Thank God for the maturation of my ear drums.

oneword: depth

Strip yourself of unneeded layers, fill your lungs with air, close your eyes, and dive into the depths of your imaginings. Swim around in them. Flip, swirl, and roll. Open your eyes down there, watch how everything seems to blur and mold into a beautiful alternate reality. When you come up for air, remember what it looked like. Remember what it felt like. One day it will surface and you will thrive.

oneword: chained

After so much excitement, so much relief, so much truth telling and exploration, this ball and chain is still here. It is still digging into my flesh, even more so, and I wish more than ever that it didn't exist, that it never existed in the first place.

If only my wish could make it real. If only dreams coming true were that easy.

Turns out it's hard work, and the pretty, pastel picture I painted for my life--the one that is making me gag at the thought--is even harder to escape. This is going to take more effort than simply making a decision. It is going to take action. Follow-through. Faith that all if it is for the right outcome, the real right outcome.

Until I lose myself in that faith and that action, all at the same time, no time, and all the time, I will be chained to the nagging, splenda-sweetened, good life. The one I've spent so long convincing myself I should live.

oneword: detour

this is no detour. this is paying your dues. writing this paper is all i have to do. it's all i need to keep my on this path. to get to that place where i can do what i love all the time. i will try to stop complaining. i should be grateful that this is the only thing in my way. it's just a fucking paper.

oneword: fireflies

sometimes the music makes the words better.

oneword: industry

in dust, we try to rise up. in hope, we try to get going. in fear, we lie back down.

in love, we do it over and over.

oneword: blocks

Built high and bold, in all sorts of shapes and designs, I create my world. When the foundation lacks the appropriate strength, or when my elbow inadvertently gets in the way--when the blocks tumble to the ground, I look at the new patterns emerging, I take a deep breath, and I begin again. This is not a loss. It is not a set-back. It is just a step in the process. Step by step, piece by piece, block by block, I am building the future I desire. The future I deserve.

she died yesterday

i've known her for ten years. i haven't seen her in a year or more. she died yesterday.

ah, malorie, you are gone too soon. rest in peace, sweet sweet girl.




ghost

oneword: cranky

normally, i am bitter, angry and upset at the world. right now, though, i am sitting in an okay place. even if it is only momentary. i am grateful to see some light in the darkness that i have existed in. nothing is fixed and none of my problems have vasnished, but i did something for me to take care of myself, and i am proud of myself for my accomplishment. i am going to ride that high out before i become cranky once again.

one word: runaway

if only i could escape. if i could run far enough, fast enough. maybe i could escape this life. i have found that you reach a point at which you become incredibly aware that you cannot go on, and cannot survive where you are. you have no choice. backed into a corner...you are left with a choice...fight or flight. i don't have enough left in me for this fight. i don't have much left in me at all these days. broken down and tired,i am afraid that all i am capable of these days is running. feeling my feet hit the pavement as i make my escape from this life, from this unfortunate situations. well, these unfortunate situations that have become my life. i was unaware that a human could feel this unfufilled, unhappy and alone. i find myself in this dark place. it is like living in a cave,except none of the benefits of truly being by oneself are present. and so i run.

oneword: roll

Rocking and rolling, ebbing and flowing. I am movement. I am active, not passive. I am doing, not planning. I am making things happen rather than promising that I someday will.

oneword: keychain

The quintessential symbol of my childhood. We used to clip them all onto our belt-loops and walk around with gaudy miniature beanbag animals and humorous quips like "Good girl gone bad." It wasn't so much about emotional attachment as showing off.

The fad replaced with the necessity of closing and locking up, whether that be ourselves or where we live. And suddenly, we realize, we've become that much more closed off. That much farther away from what used to be fun and creative. That much less...free.

oneword: myself

I could keep saying it to myself, waiting until you are sound asleep to murmur it into my pillow, and then rolling over in frustration because I know that you aren't ready for it. And that maybe we aren't ready for it to have gotten that heavy. And that maybe if I say it, you will run.

But maybe putting it out there in a place where you won't find it would help me release some of this pent up romantic energy.

I love you.

Did I tell you about her eyes?

Did I tell you about her eyes?
Dipped deeply in cobalt blue
and left free of obvious lies.
Simply unique and simply true.

Did I tell you about her eyes?
Coyly shown when we first met,
more inspiring then all the skies.
Her place in my world was set.

Did I tell you about her eyes?
Empty of all cruel intent
Filled with thoughtful cries.
Her honest reflection is sent.

Did I tell you about her eyes?
And a sadness found deep in there?
The break in her soft disguise,
Part of that she hides with care.

Did I tell you about her eyes?
How I fell there and was lost?
How she took away my lies?
And my tears fell at last?

Tell me about her eyes,
Least I forget.

John Thomas rule(d) my (early) life.

(Originally written in 2004, tweaked today)

For some reason this morning I am preoccupied by my John Thomas, third leg, or to be clinical about it, penis.

I am preoccupied by the fact at over 30 I still have very little control over it. In many ways I am (or should that be he is) like an adolesent. Unless you have your own you may find this hard to understand. It is indeed an appendage flying it's own flag of independance, and no matter what steps are taken will 'salute' that flag as and when (and wherever) it feels is appropriate.

You are never really given any solid advice on how to deal with this, and the triggers are inconsistant to say the least. At school during sex Ed we were forced to watch videos on this subject. And the girls where all invited.

The advice was in fact terrible, and only served to increase our already well developed insecurity in to a life long affliction. I remember clearly being told that we should during our teenage years "wear tight jeans or trousers to reduce the visibility of an involuntary errection" and "to distract ourselves by doing something else such as whistling". This did of course lead to playgrounds full of 14 yr olds in tight trousers whistling the latest chart hits. (And lots of giggling girls who had seen the same advice)

What they producers of this astute video obviously had not thought about is the actual appearance of a straining salute through tight jeans. It's just as obvious as the whistling. In fact loose trousers at least had the benefit of allowing you to put your hands in your pocket to grab the offending organ and try to control it. Slightly more practical and pleasurable then your tight jeans.

It is really no wonder that the Victorians used to cover up table legs least they arouse the passion within young men. Anything can, and occassionally still does, trigger this wonderful act. In fact it is amazing what can set of the skyward glance - any glimpse of previous cover flesh, your best friends mum, that slightly naughty novel owned by your parents, the slap you received from the fiesty girl of the class, dinner ladies, odd shaped salt pots...and on it goes.

... or it doesn't. Unfortunately, while for 99% of the time you can't stop it, this is always balanced by the 1 time it refuses to co-operate. Normally when it should be raring to stand upright and proud, it can be counted on to be having a bad day. Remember that first fumble? I am not sure what the ladies will have been thinking but I guarentee all the lads where willing their penis to become the largest, grandest and firmest it had ever been. Probably to the point they become paranoid it wouldn't work and that caused the sweat - not the heat of the moment.

There would have been that tense moment as she (gently / timidly / forcefully / aggressively)laid her hands upon it - the make or break moment. Stand or sink. Salute or stone. Her cool hands make contact and... you can bet the resultant cheer (Success) would be heard a mile away. As would the aggonising scream as your penis decides not to play.

And will probably stay this way for the rest of our lives. Just wait until the penis becomes Viagra immune. It will happpen - trust me.

oneword: idiot

how incredibly stupid do i feel? this end all be all thing that i believed in, my whole outlook...how could i have been so wrong? everything i believed in was a complete waste.

and now the situation i have found myself in...i never thought that i would end up back here again.

i can seem to move. i am trapped here in this. i am trapped by me. i am the only one that can get me out of this, and i cannot seem to move.

i feel so stupid, and helpless. i know i am neither, and yet i feel powerless to remove myself from this situation. i cannot for the life of me figure out what is keeping me here...other than an extreme fear of upsetting her. that's all. it seems so dumb.

i can say this...my outlook has changed. i have changed. i will never be this foolish again.

oneword: inspired

watching what has been accomplished and the distance that has been covered in such a short amount of time. going from just talking about something to actually doing something about it...that right there is the stuff dreams are made of.

not being the person that is standing there trying to figure out how to take that giant leap of faith.

taking that first step, oh so fearlessly.

i've been paying attention. now its my turn. to jump. to leap. to fly.

Drops

Tear plops
The world stops
And my heart flops
When your face drops

Let's change these rain drops of sadness to joy drops of gladness.

As soon as everyone drops
Their excuses

oneword: drops

one by one as they hit the smooth surface, and you dare to step in. i let them hit my face, hoping that each one will pull me further and further from the daze that i have found myself living in. dwelling in. hoping with every splash that it will wash it all off of me. it has been there so long, that i am encrusted in it. everyday, i wake up a little more. i am finding myself closer and closer to being free from all of it. one drop at a time. i get closer.

oneword: brother

what a loaded word for me.

in short, the ideal to which i can't live up.

on the other hand, i'm not sure i want to.

oneword: storage

Not too long ago, I opened the torn-up duffle bag for the first time in ages.

I carefully pulled out old tights, ripped and frayed, unwrapped my last pair of point shoes, with a brown blood spot permanently stained into the pink satin. I unfolded leotards and leg warmers and sweaters. I leafed through an old book of notes, choreography, dance steps.

It all smelled musty, the years of stagnancy in my parents' basement emanating from every fiber. It all reeked of stillness, neglect.

I pulled that bag out of storage, not too long ago, and it's not going back. I might add a few new items to the mix, a few new skills, definitely a slew of new tricks.

I am stretching out stiff muscles. I am getting my blood flowing again, for real, for the first time in far too long. And even though my body might take a little while to rejuvenate, to become what it was and more, right now, my spirit-body is twirling and leaping for joy.

oneword: tofu

Just another thing I was told long ago, sold on the healthful, genuine goodness of this manmade food... So much of my existence lately is deciding whether or not to believe in the fairy-tales of my past--wanting so much for the utopia to be true, to believe that purity and perfection exist.

But maybe, just maybe, the utopia sold to me was the wrong one, if for no other reason than it was theirs, not mine.

I do not need over-processed, watered-down, let-me-protect-you-from-yourself nourishment any more. Expecting me to take you at your word--because you know how hard it can be and how bad it can get--doesn't nourish me; it is eating me from the inside out.

I'm just baffled it took me this long to discover the truth I should have known from the start.

(OH-eeee-oooo....KILLER TOFU)

oneword: pills

that pucker on her lips isn't there in hopes of a kiss. sour and slumped - no grind. and NO bump. she overfills her days so she can sleep through her nights and emotion overspills into her mind so she can justify her plight. she sits in her puddle of pity pool party excuses and i remember when i was the one spouting the stream of 'it's no use's.

oneword: options

i find that its never the options that stump me in life, its always the decision...and sticking with it. things are fluid, always moving and changing. i still sometimes question decisions that i made ten years ago, and where i would be if i had chosen differently. some of the decisions, made in the snap of a second, i am grateful that i made those decisions. one in particular was a little like jumping out of a plane. once it had been made and the words spoken, there was no going back. i had to trust in myself that i would locate my parachute in time so i didn't splat face first onto the ground. i feel like i just might be at the door looking at that long drop once again. and i am not so sure i trust myself these days.

oneword: options

I could clam up. I could crawl back into this hole of self-denial. I could listen to the voices of doubt and "reason" and stick it out. "Most people don't do something they really want until they're much older." What is that bullshit? I'm sorry. But I believe that I have more options than waiting until middle age to be happy.

oneword: pour

It's our nighttime conversations that spill into my daytime dreams.

I've drunkenly poured out my heart to you more than a couple of times now. Those texts that I laughed off and voicemails that I pretended I didn't leave?

All, so true.

I fear that I may be falling out of like and into the beginnings of that l-word that has eluded me for the past three years.

Please don't knock me off the table.

oneword: major

Decisions I made, years ago, combining elements of my interests and loves. I tried to create a logical pathway, to funnel my journey towards a contrived, institutionalized version of success. But the farther I traveled down that road, the farther I moved from my Self. My Spirit shriveled inside the supposedly stable participant in the economic machine.

And now, as I move away from this chosen path to the alternate reality, the real reality, I walk away from a steady paycheck, benefits, and retirement funds--into an unknown. I walk away from the "right" job and the "right" life, to something less predictable but more me.

Someday, I hope those majors, those decisions from long ago, will meld together into something new and magical. I hope they will still serve me, that they are not for naught.

Until then, I step forward, one move closer to my Truth.

oneword: latch

shutting out these insecuri-keys.

locking the door steadfastly behind me.

i turn and see your pale reflection, waiting to tackle me onto the couch and play with my hair.

breathe in. breathe out. in. out. in-out. inout.

done.

oneword: stack

new years resolutions. piled up hopeful and high with the promises of a better future than i may have let myself believe i was worthy of having.

here it goes. man up.