I stand before the mirror and place the tip of the chisel between my breasts.
In my other hand the hammer.
I bring the head of the hammer down on the chisel and curve my shoulders forward to protect myself.
Blood dribbles down my stomach to drip slowly from my knee caps.
I can feel the chisel burn my skin and bury deeper.
I am not just breaking my skin, but breaking my soul.
My outer shell that protects me.
I bring the hammer down again.
The taste of metal and something undefined coats the inside of my mouth.
There is no turning back now.
I know that soon I will die, but I also know that soon I will be free.
No more of my protective outer skin, nothing keeping from experiencing everything.
And even though it is an end, it is also a beginning.
A new start with no more hiding, no more ego, no more facade.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
It is during the hard times that I learn what kind of person I am.
When I am restless, or stagnant I learn just as much about myself as I do when I am moving forward.
I feel I am running through deep mud. My feet are sucked downward and nothing seems to work.
Not love, Not work, not friends, not creativity.
I am frustrated and yet I find that the emotional alone breeds itself.
Being frustrated makes me more frustrated.
Still I struggle, always struggling, endlessly struggling and I feel tired.
Fed-up.
So Tonight I remember that it is ok to have a day where nothing seems to work right and that still I must continue on, so sleep is the cure to the restless head.
When I am restless, or stagnant I learn just as much about myself as I do when I am moving forward.
I feel I am running through deep mud. My feet are sucked downward and nothing seems to work.
Not love, Not work, not friends, not creativity.
I am frustrated and yet I find that the emotional alone breeds itself.
Being frustrated makes me more frustrated.
Still I struggle, always struggling, endlessly struggling and I feel tired.
Fed-up.
So Tonight I remember that it is ok to have a day where nothing seems to work right and that still I must continue on, so sleep is the cure to the restless head.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
the truth
I feel a complete fraud. I just considered changing the name of this blog just so I wouldnt feel so bad about not writing a poem a day but more like a poem a week and a feeble one at that. So I am owning that I have not kept my commitment of writing a poem a day or at least doing something to support my poetry each day. As always I reminded to respect my art by my good friend Aleah who is her art and lives and breathes it every day. My hero.
I fear I have nothing to say.
It is too important to say something I know.
Deep in my bones, but today, I fear I know nothing.
Today I look back and acknowledge that who I was, is not who I am.
We are the product of our experiences, but the result is something other than what we were.
Other than I am.
I bow to the goodness in me, and remember that with that good comes the work to sustain it.
The never ending "up hill" battle against ourselves and our ability to be Human.
We put so much importance on the individual experience, but we must remember that our experience is inconsequential, except that we are connected to each other, our experience is not individual at all but composite. Collective. Whole. Different, but the same.
It is too important to say something I know.
Deep in my bones, but today, I fear I know nothing.
Today I look back and acknowledge that who I was, is not who I am.
We are the product of our experiences, but the result is something other than what we were.
Other than I am.
I bow to the goodness in me, and remember that with that good comes the work to sustain it.
The never ending "up hill" battle against ourselves and our ability to be Human.
We put so much importance on the individual experience, but we must remember that our experience is inconsequential, except that we are connected to each other, our experience is not individual at all but composite. Collective. Whole. Different, but the same.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
No Fear
It evokes within me things I can not explain.
Words that are so full of meaning that they have no meaning at all.
These words race through my mind, wash through my veins, caress my skin, ripple my soul
and I don't understand. The meaning is too deep to understand. And must I? Is part of the majesty that for all of my understanding, for all of my words, my contemplation, and coherence, this I do not understand. And I am not sure I ever want to. The point is to not understand, but the point is also not to fear. Again I surrender, in the name of faith. No fear for it will kill this possibility, but faith that no matter how hard I try I will never understand and I have no need to. This will end the way it is supposed to, and I will live it without fear.
Words that are so full of meaning that they have no meaning at all.
These words race through my mind, wash through my veins, caress my skin, ripple my soul
and I don't understand. The meaning is too deep to understand. And must I? Is part of the majesty that for all of my understanding, for all of my words, my contemplation, and coherence, this I do not understand. And I am not sure I ever want to. The point is to not understand, but the point is also not to fear. Again I surrender, in the name of faith. No fear for it will kill this possibility, but faith that no matter how hard I try I will never understand and I have no need to. This will end the way it is supposed to, and I will live it without fear.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Oh fuck it who knows what day it is...
There are so many different types of love.
Love of life, love of self, love of others, romantic love, familiar love, friendly love...but all of these are just love. When loving oneself, it is possible to love others, in a passionate deep love affair.
With love comes understanding, beauty, passion, compassion...all the amazing things that make life full and worth living. So why do I feel so lonely. I have these loves, except the romantic, and lonely I feel. Less. Missing something, perhaps not love though. Perhaps change. Something new. But does that mean someone new?
I want the sweetness of a love, a new love, with none of the thorns. But it seems they must be hand in hand and add the joy with the dark, which makes love what love is. Perhaps we are just told this? Perhaps love would be different if we just thought of it differently. Is the way we think of it only socially created? Is love even divine or is it defined by society. Would it not exist if we needed it to help create social unions?
Too many questions for tonight, no answers to be had.
Love of life, love of self, love of others, romantic love, familiar love, friendly love...but all of these are just love. When loving oneself, it is possible to love others, in a passionate deep love affair.
With love comes understanding, beauty, passion, compassion...all the amazing things that make life full and worth living. So why do I feel so lonely. I have these loves, except the romantic, and lonely I feel. Less. Missing something, perhaps not love though. Perhaps change. Something new. But does that mean someone new?
I want the sweetness of a love, a new love, with none of the thorns. But it seems they must be hand in hand and add the joy with the dark, which makes love what love is. Perhaps we are just told this? Perhaps love would be different if we just thought of it differently. Is the way we think of it only socially created? Is love even divine or is it defined by society. Would it not exist if we needed it to help create social unions?
Too many questions for tonight, no answers to be had.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Day 22: Herself
Drip, drip...
I feel my tear run down the hills of my face to drip from my nose.
The splash from my tears runs over my toes and I wiggle them in the puddle I created.
The pulse of my heart thumps out a beat in my head and throat and I swallow down the words I want to scream.
My head spins, my eyes droop, the tears keep coming.
I sway, the world stands still.
The nausea squirms up from my gut and I bend to vomit up my unending stream of anger and superiority.
Instead I catch a glimpse of this girl, 10 ft tall, pale, hallow eyed, dark haired, with shining worlds dropping from her eyes. Each one glistening, catching the light, gorgeous, bright, full of hope dropping from the sky like gifts from above. A smile touches my lips, and she smiles as well, hers brilliant and ripe, mine tasting of bile, and I open my arms as she opens hers and we fall towards this puddle of tears together.
I feel my tear run down the hills of my face to drip from my nose.
The splash from my tears runs over my toes and I wiggle them in the puddle I created.
The pulse of my heart thumps out a beat in my head and throat and I swallow down the words I want to scream.
My head spins, my eyes droop, the tears keep coming.
I sway, the world stands still.
The nausea squirms up from my gut and I bend to vomit up my unending stream of anger and superiority.
Instead I catch a glimpse of this girl, 10 ft tall, pale, hallow eyed, dark haired, with shining worlds dropping from her eyes. Each one glistening, catching the light, gorgeous, bright, full of hope dropping from the sky like gifts from above. A smile touches my lips, and she smiles as well, hers brilliant and ripe, mine tasting of bile, and I open my arms as she opens hers and we fall towards this puddle of tears together.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Day 20: Indy
I guess you said your goodbye.
I hadn't said mine, because I didnt know how to.
Even after all my experience, I struggle with letting you go.
I see you, for you, when you are dark and broken, and yet I see you.
Do you see me? Is that what scares you?
Is that what makes you turn away? The fear that you just might feel something you can't control?
I can't keep up with your changed mind. I can't sit through your tactics. I can't keep climbing your wall. I want more. I know you want less. Anything to not feel pain. Anything to just get through the next day still breathing. But I know you feel that loss of us. I know you feel it so intensely that it burns your tongue and sours your stomach. I see your back breaking under the strain of maintaining and it brings tears to my eyes. I wish I could help you. But I have been down that road before. Damn, have I been that road before. And it is a war I am already stacked to lose. 2 to 1. And even though I would try if you asked me to, you dont, so I won't. I can't...so I guess this is my goodbye, sweet but sad, just like us.
I hadn't said mine, because I didnt know how to.
Even after all my experience, I struggle with letting you go.
I see you, for you, when you are dark and broken, and yet I see you.
Do you see me? Is that what scares you?
Is that what makes you turn away? The fear that you just might feel something you can't control?
I can't keep up with your changed mind. I can't sit through your tactics. I can't keep climbing your wall. I want more. I know you want less. Anything to not feel pain. Anything to just get through the next day still breathing. But I know you feel that loss of us. I know you feel it so intensely that it burns your tongue and sours your stomach. I see your back breaking under the strain of maintaining and it brings tears to my eyes. I wish I could help you. But I have been down that road before. Damn, have I been that road before. And it is a war I am already stacked to lose. 2 to 1. And even though I would try if you asked me to, you dont, so I won't. I can't...so I guess this is my goodbye, sweet but sad, just like us.
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