sad again

summers over, now. so i'm getting sad again. and my wonderful weekend with valette has come and gone and she is back in anchorage. so sad. it's been a long fall, so that's been cool. no snow yet, but i *know* it's time for the long goodnight and that's just bumming me out.

we've got about six bazaars lined up for the season. we had great success at farmers market this summer, which turned out to be loads of fun. i like the culture of the market, setting up next to the same people every week and buying vegetables from the same vendors each time. i'll miss the commrederie of it over the winter. i'm looking forward to saturdays off in january, when bazaar season is over.

my cat, nene, is getting more settled with the extra people in the house. she actually let jake pet her the other day. yay!

here's an untitled poem.

in the last days of
summer, spires of spent snapdragons
rise, holding tight to their blossoms
of burnt popcorn, high above the brown
carpet of pansies in my garden. ladybugs
nestle amidst the leaves, bedding down for winter.

my window

there's a window in my room,
square and small,
sized just for one. it looks
out onto sloping grass,
growing long in the hazy
months of eternal summer.

it's a thinking window,
made for contemplation.
in a cozy curled up
position, i can see
further than the view allows

what's your blog rated?

Mingle² - Houston Singles

so, okay. shouldn't poetry get a nice juicy "R" rating? but no. just a "G". so sad.

easily broken

i am unfired clay, brittle
on the shelf, thin as a shaft
of hair. you do not see the fragility,
only the thick unyeilding wall
of silence i've carefully crafted. you
think i'm cold. look harder. it's fear.

oh. my. god.

i can't believe i haven't posted since march (!). a lot has happened, but most importantly, becca and i got some of our jewelry accepted at alaska rag company and we've already sold some stuff. yay!
so here's a poem i don't think i've posted yet.

sin

there is a strange unity in moonlight.
everything equal and alien, familiar landmarks made
unknown and distant. untrustable are my eyes as the house
becomes an icon, luminous, precise,
weighty. i am in danger of slowing. looking too closely. seeing
what is not there. there

is signifigance where you are but i
conceal my heart like a ghost, flickering,
bewildered by this fall towards you. fear keeps me far from
letting go. i refuse to see. appearances deceive.
do you lie as you look at me? or is it me lying to you? unreliable,
my heart, leading me down passages foreign, you at the end,
smiling your distant smile, holding truth in your fist like money.

baggage

so we're driving through nebraska
silver trees and fields of corn
flashing past like someone's
memory of how it used to be.
and it's raining like confetti
when someone's born or marilyn
monroe comes to town. and
we're arguing again.
i can't remember what
it's all about anymore.

and i remember when we
couldn't hold each other
long enough. when the world
was the sky and you loved me.
there's a lake to the right of us,
it's surface pocked by rain.
did you notice it? how long
has it been since you've noticed
me? the sun is setting in front of us.
brilliant orange and red. behind
us the sky is violet. you don't
ask why i'm looking back.

two poems

she is

you are a poet in the quiet
moments, a whittler of
words, slowly paring down
to the meaning of it. don't

silence your voice with the busyness,
errands and agendas of little
consequence that will
or won't get done. breathe
and it is of more importance
than anything else you've ever done.



falling

this is my dream; i'm walking
down a corridor and i'm alone.
truly alone. there's the sound of my
feet padding across the tiled floor
and then nothing. silence like
gravity. it becomes black.
and i think of you.

but i'm not falling in
love with you, you so far away and
perfect in that distance. with
your details blurred like memory or a good
monet. and i keep filling in your
features, or weak spots, as if
i'm dreaming you in to existence.

sin

sin

there is a strange unity in moonlight.
everything equal and alien, familiar landmarks made
unknown and distant. untrustable are my eyes as the house
becomes an icon, luminous, precise,
weighty. i am in danger of slowing. looking too closely. seeing
what is not there. there

is signifigance where you are but i
conceal my heart like a ghost, flickering,
bewildered by this fall towards you. fear keeps me far from
letting go. i refuse to see. appearances deceive.
do you lie as you look at me? or is it me lying to you? unreliable,
my heart, leading me down passages foreign, you at the end,
smiling your distant smile, holding truth in your fist like money.

two untitled poems

i stumble in the morning, trying
to find a way towards where i need
to go. i am so clumsy with myself
and with you, allowing things to seperate
us, an ice flow in the bering sea, you
on one berg and me on another. i get
so careless with my fears, allow them
to feed on me like carnivorous gnats.
i let life happen to me, tripping
blindly at each new catastrophe, powerless.
you float farther away. i feel so cold.




something holds me away from
myself. i think it is possibly
the fear of self-realization. if i were
to get too close, i would see how
meaningless this all is. i'm feeling
broken. i'm thinking, i don't know how to fix
me. i'm wondering if i can be saved.
too far gone, maybe, like soured milk or rotten
eggs. just throw me out, unused and wasted.

oh, my

a week ago i got in my little head that i wanted to read odd thomas by dean koontz. no one had told me i needed to read it. it was just this sudden *need*. i couldn't go to the library, 'cause i had an overdue book that i couldn't find, so i went in search of it at the stores. finally found it at barnes and noble. read it. loved it. have strangely avoided dean koontz. don't know why. just wasn't interested. so i read the second one, forever odd, which becca got for christmas. loved it, too. when i finally found that missing library book, i ran to the library and checked out more books by him. oh, my. have i become a dean koontz fan? how embarrassing.

winter

winter

yesterday was desperation.
flicker close, quicken me.
break my soul, touch my
false belief.
remember sorrow.
tear past this fake
emotion. compel me to
feel, to fight, to win.
destroy this winter.

dad

i did this painting in the months before my dad's death. i wanted to capture the gauntness of his hand, the swollen joints. the feeling of passing.

speaking in tongues

speaking in tongues

my mouth
says things i don't
intend to say. it's
an artesian well, springing
forth with pressure from
some unknown
source. stop
this clumsy
tongue. save stupidity
for another day.

...and a side of pharmeceuticals

the reason i like this painting is because each little pill is so painstakingly rendered. i used pills from our collection; this was done when dad was still alive, so i used mom's, dad's, and my pills as models. dad took an amazing amount of meds. they are what kept him alive, but in the end, they're what killed him; medication taken for one thing made his kidneys fail and he ultimately died of kidney failure.

stages

stages

can i believe your skin as you
kiss, price of smooth perfection.
excessive love moving me. desire

like death, dying. you're too far from me. endless.
your love like branches of a shifting
wind destroys the hot surface. essence.
pillow of sky

concealing dark rules. indifferent
your due, marking me. rusting
dreams. broken kiss forgotten.
pale emotion leaves you bare. alone.
i've already left. maybe i didn't believe enough.