think twice
makes me think of double think
makes me think of communism
so don't think twice
it's alright
I was thinking through my list of favorite movies. Since I never include them in places such as 'About Me' I'll put it here.
Movie List:
The Prestige
Million Dollar Brain
Whale Rider
(500) Days of Summer
The Rocky Horror Picture Show
Spy Kids
Fantasia 2000
A Breakfast At Tiffany's
Splash
Forrest Gump
Ferris Bueller's Day Off
V for Vendetta
October Sky
Apollo 13
Robinhood
Men in Tights
History of the World Part 1
Young Frankenstein
Blazing Saddles
The Lorax
Elf
Mr. and Mrs. Smith
School of Rock
Peter Pan
Hook
Flubber
August Rush
Slumdog Millionaire
The Sting
Never Cry Wolf
Candy
Harry Potter Mania
Juno
X-Men
Fight Club
The Little Mermaid
Shrek
King Corn
Watchmen
Rememeber the Titans
Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid
Hidalgo
National Velvet
Edward Scissorhands
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
Pineapple Express
Little Shop of Horrors
Dancing With Wolves
The Waterboy
UP
Wall.E
.....
Eventually there will come a time when there are more.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Friday, February 26, 2010
Ramblings in a 50 post
Oh, yey! Joyous yey, I made it to 50 posts and I have twice that many views. My blog is growing, who knew this could be so much fun and substance (Microsoft’s synonym for stuff). For celebration I might write a story.
The aisles were cool, the refrigerated air sinking lower, frisking my bare heels as I walked between the low piled stacks of fresh fruit. Stickers of the various countries of origin hidden underneath the plastic bags, the fleshy skin pressing into the racks, kiwis and pomegranates looking back at me as I rolled my cart past the displays, the right front wheel wobbling and squeaking. My eyes were glazed, droopy with the cool AC, cold air draping itself along my damp hair that still smelled of chlorine, the chill prickling along the sun burnt brown of my skin and dulling the oncoming heat stroke. The produce section had to be my favorite part of the store in the summer, the rich summer vegetables were finally ripe naturally, not gassed like the tomatoes of January. I picked up only the exotics while I was there, plantains and pineapples, things that would complement the growing variety of freshly grown vegetables that hard work, a couple wheelbarrows of rocks and countless blisters had finally sprouted from the Earth. This far into the season I couldn’t clean the dirt out of my nails except when I spent the whole day at the pool, drenching my skin in the glorious chemical chlorine and developing sunglass tans as I lay out on the cement pool deck, taking a break from the chilly, summer water. That’s where I had been, before coming here, restocking on only the essentials. Fruit, vegetables, bread. The only things to eat when it was this hot, running when imbibing anything thicker or more filling would be treacherous territory when the world was burned this sweating. I wheeled along, thinking of The Lord of the Flies, how the boys couldn’t survive on the fruit. In the summertime I reverted to vegetarianism, the body reacting calmly to the garnet strawberries, peridot pea gems picked fresh and eaten, still in their pods by the wandering hungry gardener. Maybe I just had too much time on my hands, to grow fruit this well, but maybe it was just my calling. Looking now inside the misty lots I saw other people’s handy work, shined up and marketed to me, gleaming. “Sitting in an English garden, waiting for the sun.”, checking out I watched other people with beer and meat cookies…..
To be continued when I wake up....
The aisles were cool, the refrigerated air sinking lower, frisking my bare heels as I walked between the low piled stacks of fresh fruit. Stickers of the various countries of origin hidden underneath the plastic bags, the fleshy skin pressing into the racks, kiwis and pomegranates looking back at me as I rolled my cart past the displays, the right front wheel wobbling and squeaking. My eyes were glazed, droopy with the cool AC, cold air draping itself along my damp hair that still smelled of chlorine, the chill prickling along the sun burnt brown of my skin and dulling the oncoming heat stroke. The produce section had to be my favorite part of the store in the summer, the rich summer vegetables were finally ripe naturally, not gassed like the tomatoes of January. I picked up only the exotics while I was there, plantains and pineapples, things that would complement the growing variety of freshly grown vegetables that hard work, a couple wheelbarrows of rocks and countless blisters had finally sprouted from the Earth. This far into the season I couldn’t clean the dirt out of my nails except when I spent the whole day at the pool, drenching my skin in the glorious chemical chlorine and developing sunglass tans as I lay out on the cement pool deck, taking a break from the chilly, summer water. That’s where I had been, before coming here, restocking on only the essentials. Fruit, vegetables, bread. The only things to eat when it was this hot, running when imbibing anything thicker or more filling would be treacherous territory when the world was burned this sweating. I wheeled along, thinking of The Lord of the Flies, how the boys couldn’t survive on the fruit. In the summertime I reverted to vegetarianism, the body reacting calmly to the garnet strawberries, peridot pea gems picked fresh and eaten, still in their pods by the wandering hungry gardener. Maybe I just had too much time on my hands, to grow fruit this well, but maybe it was just my calling. Looking now inside the misty lots I saw other people’s handy work, shined up and marketed to me, gleaming. “Sitting in an English garden, waiting for the sun.”, checking out I watched other people with beer and meat cookies…..
To be continued when I wake up....
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Under the Sea
"I am making a return to Forks In Her Hair!"
The title has a meaning, unlike some of my post titles, the title of my blog actually has a meaning.
It is actually a bit of Disney. But, the real story of the Little Mermaid is much different than any sugared up animated VHS version you have at home.
...I was had a Little Mermaid alarm clock. It played "Under the Sea" every morning. I hated it, and clocks....and time.
But the idea of being to naive that you comb your hair with a fork is wonderful. Also the idea of having a tail. That would be cool. And meeting a woman named Ursala. And having rock hard abs from dolphin strokes.
"Under the sea
Under the sea
Darling it's better
Down where it's wetter
Take it from me
Up on the shore they work all day
Out in the sun they slave away
While we devotin'
Full time to floatin'
Under the sea"
if you engage the eye, the mind will follow
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
goodbye
Salutations, to a swing set slam
spring hit hard on the southern land
revolving door of a seasonal sprawl
robins are singing, can you hear their call?
there are pink flamingos rising upon the shelves
of the inner city stores and into the mell
that is backyard bedazzled
in pink plastic summer frazzle
the sunshine is humming
its throwing, its running
its coming out tomorrow,
winter is sorrow
you can't have spring come now
but its not far away, rousing
and shaking itself
causing all the men in snow to melt
the wind is shouting
evergreens scowling
their foliage replaced by sweet green buds
and you jump and its thudding
decorations across people's yards
swimming in mud, in March
spring hit hard on the southern land
revolving door of a seasonal sprawl
robins are singing, can you hear their call?
there are pink flamingos rising upon the shelves
of the inner city stores and into the mell
that is backyard bedazzled
in pink plastic summer frazzle
the sunshine is humming
its throwing, its running
its coming out tomorrow,
winter is sorrow
you can't have spring come now
but its not far away, rousing
and shaking itself
causing all the men in snow to melt
the wind is shouting
evergreens scowling
their foliage replaced by sweet green buds
and you jump and its thudding
decorations across people's yards
swimming in mud, in March
Monday, February 22, 2010
White knuckles...Maybe it isn't so bad?
The word of the day is fallacious.
I must go and say that I had the best bagel today.
It had:
cream cheese
cranberry sauce
turkey
lettuce
and swiss cheese
...ok so it was a bagel sandwich, but it was monstrously good.
"She's my best friend's girl"
When I used to attend church regularly and I took piano lessons in the sanctuary of the Presbyterian church there once was a time when I walked in and heard angels. The music crawled into my spine and I ran back out into the Fellowship hall. My piano asked if I had heard it to when she saw my face. My piano teacher was half deaf.
Turns out someone had turned a recording of a childrens choir to one of the lowest settings on the speaker and it had been playing a loop half the afternoon 'til I had arrived after school and finally suckered up enough courage to turn it off. When the music stopped the light stopped filtering through the stained glass and the white speckles of dust that flaoted in the shafts of light.
Maybe that is how I understand the making of music.
My constant rotational playlist that I will not include on my blog because I am uppity about those sort of things include:
Under Pressure- Queen
Kenya Dig It- Ruby Suns
The Air Near My Fingers- The White Stripes
Golden Years- David Bowie
You Make My Dreams- Hall & Oates
Ringa Ringa- A. R. Rahman
These Arms of Mine- Otis Redding
Leapord Skin Pill Box Hat- Beck
My Best Friends Girl- Weezer
Love today- Mika
Daft Punk vs. Gorillaz- 19-2000 Funk
Scottish Pop- Spearmint
Hang the DJ- The Smiths
White Knuckles- OK Go
3rd planet- Modest Mouse
Origin of Love- Hedwig and the Angry Inch
Play It Cool- Super Furry Animals
I must go and say that I had the best bagel today.
It had:
cream cheese
cranberry sauce
turkey
lettuce
and swiss cheese
...ok so it was a bagel sandwich, but it was monstrously good.
"She's my best friend's girl"
When I used to attend church regularly and I took piano lessons in the sanctuary of the Presbyterian church there once was a time when I walked in and heard angels. The music crawled into my spine and I ran back out into the Fellowship hall. My piano asked if I had heard it to when she saw my face. My piano teacher was half deaf.
Turns out someone had turned a recording of a childrens choir to one of the lowest settings on the speaker and it had been playing a loop half the afternoon 'til I had arrived after school and finally suckered up enough courage to turn it off. When the music stopped the light stopped filtering through the stained glass and the white speckles of dust that flaoted in the shafts of light.
Maybe that is how I understand the making of music.
My constant rotational playlist that I will not include on my blog because I am uppity about those sort of things include:
Under Pressure- Queen
Kenya Dig It- Ruby Suns
The Air Near My Fingers- The White Stripes
Golden Years- David Bowie
You Make My Dreams- Hall & Oates
Ringa Ringa- A. R. Rahman
These Arms of Mine- Otis Redding
Leapord Skin Pill Box Hat- Beck
My Best Friends Girl- Weezer
Love today- Mika
Daft Punk vs. Gorillaz- 19-2000 Funk
Scottish Pop- Spearmint
Hang the DJ- The Smiths
White Knuckles- OK Go
3rd planet- Modest Mouse
Origin of Love- Hedwig and the Angry Inch
Play It Cool- Super Furry Animals
Sunday, February 21, 2010
A Guided Dream
a society of trees
collecting air with me
and I was there
sitting in their patched-in sunlight
some were breathing at the same pace
and you could see it in their sweep of leaves
and some were sinking far beneath me
taking a drink
I tapped in. The wires were the roots and this was the heart. There were veins and pulses. That jarring awakening of another deeper life farther beyond yours, the hair on the back of your neck standing up. There was the white stain of a headlight sun on the backs of my eye lids. It stretched from a circle into a white flat boundless field in front of me and I stepped in. It felt right.
I was there, in the mind's eye of another. But I wasn't, just coursing in through the gentle waves of being. Both sets of eyes closed. I was standing in the blank whiteness of it all, the air was still and the sky was falling around me in a stark dome.
There was an image flashed onto the top of the dome and the sky grew dark around me.
I laid down so that I could look better at the screen.
When I opened my eyes I was looking up and the film was done.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I want to be able to walk myself into my own dreams
but if I spend all this time in my own subconscious
how will I make it in my real life
there is an itchiness in hypnosis
and my head hurts when I close my eyes
I enter a blankness if I am moving
if I spend my meditating in this way
can I see things clearer
I find the subtleties in things much clearer
if I can look through them with someone else
I don't want to spend all my time sleeping.
collecting air with me
and I was there
sitting in their patched-in sunlight
some were breathing at the same pace
and you could see it in their sweep of leaves
and some were sinking far beneath me
taking a drink
I tapped in. The wires were the roots and this was the heart. There were veins and pulses. That jarring awakening of another deeper life farther beyond yours, the hair on the back of your neck standing up. There was the white stain of a headlight sun on the backs of my eye lids. It stretched from a circle into a white flat boundless field in front of me and I stepped in. It felt right.
I was there, in the mind's eye of another. But I wasn't, just coursing in through the gentle waves of being. Both sets of eyes closed. I was standing in the blank whiteness of it all, the air was still and the sky was falling around me in a stark dome.
There was an image flashed onto the top of the dome and the sky grew dark around me.
I laid down so that I could look better at the screen.
When I opened my eyes I was looking up and the film was done.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I want to be able to walk myself into my own dreams
but if I spend all this time in my own subconscious
how will I make it in my real life
there is an itchiness in hypnosis
and my head hurts when I close my eyes
I enter a blankness if I am moving
if I spend my meditating in this way
can I see things clearer
I find the subtleties in things much clearer
if I can look through them with someone else
I don't want to spend all my time sleeping.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
List #3
10 reasons why my dog is the most amazing dog, and trumps your dog:
1. She is pretty, she has a pretty name, and the softest coat of luscious lovely blonde dog hair that is velveteen and soft a wuvable
2. Not only does she appreciate the little things, like having people scratch her ass, but she also eats icicles! ICICLES! She eats them with me, she is cool...
3. She is a magic circus dog who catches marshmallows when you throw them to her. Buhaaa.
4. Because she is magic, she can also talk, unlike human babies, making her more important than offspring!
5. She is humongous, she is as tall as my hip and weighs almost 90 lbs. And she is only 2.
6. Not only is she is a man magnet, she is also an attention whore.
7. She allows the kittehs to sleep with her.
8. She is the best puddle jumping companion.
9. When I'm sick, she sneaks (which is hard for a girl her size) andcurls up chipmunk style with me.
10. She has mastered the "come and get me" look. Especially when she is carrying something dead. Mmmmm.
1. She is pretty, she has a pretty name, and the softest coat of luscious lovely blonde dog hair that is velveteen and soft a wuvable
2. Not only does she appreciate the little things, like having people scratch her ass, but she also eats icicles! ICICLES! She eats them with me, she is cool...
3. She is a magic circus dog who catches marshmallows when you throw them to her. Buhaaa.
4. Because she is magic, she can also talk, unlike human babies, making her more important than offspring!
5. She is humongous, she is as tall as my hip and weighs almost 90 lbs. And she is only 2.
6. Not only is she is a man magnet, she is also an attention whore.
7. She allows the kittehs to sleep with her.
8. She is the best puddle jumping companion.
9. When I'm sick, she sneaks (which is hard for a girl her size) andcurls up chipmunk style with me.
10. She has mastered the "come and get me" look. Especially when she is carrying something dead. Mmmmm.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
wind chimings
Breeze by Apollo Sunshine
Theres a silent hill, laid in with subtle dew and straight green stems of grass cropped close to the the hill's scalp. If you look below these beams of green there is a fishnet stocking woven with silver beads and the gunmetal gray of the Earth below.
Upon the ground I set some of the most prized possesions in my house. There the crystal bowl from my grandmother's house that has sat on my piano until it collected an inch of dust. There is a black bear skull. Set along side there is a quilt that was made for me with my name. There is my coffee table book about hummingbirds and the pink pearl necklace I made for myself when I was thirteen. An ancient guitar and a newly tuned piano, sinking somewhat into the fresh Earth. A tiny carved quartz figurine of a donkey that my mom gave to me. Theres a shotgun, my collection of seashells, the pencil drawing that my great grandmother drew. There is an ivory elephant, a bike, a copy of Watchmen.
There's all these things.
I build a house, I call up the plot of Earth along the side of the hill and it builds me a dome encompassed in the thawing green lace of grass. Roses grow and twine the walls in delicate spare vines and wide flowers. The trees make me whicker furniture and cedar boughs create curtains. The wind blows through and settles the slate floor.
Now with a home, I could run around free to the drop of the hills and the billowing sky.
Join me.
Theres a silent hill, laid in with subtle dew and straight green stems of grass cropped close to the the hill's scalp. If you look below these beams of green there is a fishnet stocking woven with silver beads and the gunmetal gray of the Earth below.
Upon the ground I set some of the most prized possesions in my house. There the crystal bowl from my grandmother's house that has sat on my piano until it collected an inch of dust. There is a black bear skull. Set along side there is a quilt that was made for me with my name. There is my coffee table book about hummingbirds and the pink pearl necklace I made for myself when I was thirteen. An ancient guitar and a newly tuned piano, sinking somewhat into the fresh Earth. A tiny carved quartz figurine of a donkey that my mom gave to me. Theres a shotgun, my collection of seashells, the pencil drawing that my great grandmother drew. There is an ivory elephant, a bike, a copy of Watchmen.
There's all these things.
I build a house, I call up the plot of Earth along the side of the hill and it builds me a dome encompassed in the thawing green lace of grass. Roses grow and twine the walls in delicate spare vines and wide flowers. The trees make me whicker furniture and cedar boughs create curtains. The wind blows through and settles the slate floor.
Now with a home, I could run around free to the drop of the hills and the billowing sky.
Join me.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Honey
"I don't care for fancy things, or to take part in the freshest waves."
Along the banks of the river lie
a boy and girl side by side
they watch the lost seagulls fly
inside the rolling pearly sky
along the floodplains the cars drive
in and out of their line of sight
the grass sweeps above them, high
his face is cosmic, blithe
a peaceful place, with the waters high
a boy and girl there do lie
Dear Valentines Day,
I loved that you visited, can you come back soon?
Over the summer I went to Nature Camp as I planned to from the December of last year. It's a tradition that I broke once, but I was so glad to be back that I realized how important it was to go. This summer I didn't expect anything to happen, sure class, bees, rock slides and whirlpools, yes. Boys, no. I got in the first day and signed up for a hike after I unpacked. It was Table Rock. Me, Larry, Madison and Anthony were all in the back. The whole group stayed together the rest of camp. I stayed with Anthony.
Into the second week there was a massive rain shower that lasted half the day. In the mountains the climate is almost a jungle, the rainstorms feel like they will drench you past the protective layer of your skin and if you stand under the roofs at camp it is easy to receive a free, if chilly shower. After one of these torrential downpours the sky finally broke into pink right after dinner. I immediately hauled Anthony to the Office to hunt down counselors for a hike.I had a feeling that there were still low hanging clouds that would drift into the valley. We endured the schleming jokes as they signed us up for the hike. Our hike was small, but we still traveled to First Lookout with the smell of ozone permeating the air like the evening chill that drifts in the mountains.
At the summit we stood and looked out onto one of the most achingly beautiful sunsets I have ever seen. Hand in hand we sat at the bottom ledge feasting upon sherbet skies. If there is a God I feel like that sunset would have been his ultimate work. In front of us McClung mountain rolled up and stretched its ridge along. Sweeping along the valley from the left were slow rolling soft ice gray clouds that drifted slowly out into the warmer air of the lowlands were the rays were pulled into bands, hitting the clouds and erupting into a shiny blaze of pastel pinks, salmons, orange rind, low slung lavender and pearly peach. I can only compare the colors to the mass of Oriental Lilies that grow along our garden and how their colors differ but all grow from a radial point. There is nothing to actually compare it to. That sunset is one of the only sunsets that I can remember distinct aspects of. And I have seen sixteen years of sunsets.
We sat there talking of all the coastal sunsets we had seen and how almost none of them amounted to how beautiful this one was until the sun sank halfway into the rolling Earth. It was pulsing orange now, pulling a purple blanket down across the sky but working in pinpricks of white clouds. Getting up slowly we stared at the sky until we were urged to go back. I'm so glad it was him that I shared it with.
When we arrived back in camp we tried to convey just what we had seen up at Lookout, but evening ceremony had already started and the music drowned out our descriptions. I think then we turned to each other and smiled.
"Honey you are the sea on which I float"
Along the banks of the river lie
a boy and girl side by side
they watch the lost seagulls fly
inside the rolling pearly sky
along the floodplains the cars drive
in and out of their line of sight
the grass sweeps above them, high
his face is cosmic, blithe
a peaceful place, with the waters high
a boy and girl there do lie
Dear Valentines Day,
I loved that you visited, can you come back soon?
Over the summer I went to Nature Camp as I planned to from the December of last year. It's a tradition that I broke once, but I was so glad to be back that I realized how important it was to go. This summer I didn't expect anything to happen, sure class, bees, rock slides and whirlpools, yes. Boys, no. I got in the first day and signed up for a hike after I unpacked. It was Table Rock. Me, Larry, Madison and Anthony were all in the back. The whole group stayed together the rest of camp. I stayed with Anthony.
Into the second week there was a massive rain shower that lasted half the day. In the mountains the climate is almost a jungle, the rainstorms feel like they will drench you past the protective layer of your skin and if you stand under the roofs at camp it is easy to receive a free, if chilly shower. After one of these torrential downpours the sky finally broke into pink right after dinner. I immediately hauled Anthony to the Office to hunt down counselors for a hike.I had a feeling that there were still low hanging clouds that would drift into the valley. We endured the schleming jokes as they signed us up for the hike. Our hike was small, but we still traveled to First Lookout with the smell of ozone permeating the air like the evening chill that drifts in the mountains.
At the summit we stood and looked out onto one of the most achingly beautiful sunsets I have ever seen. Hand in hand we sat at the bottom ledge feasting upon sherbet skies. If there is a God I feel like that sunset would have been his ultimate work. In front of us McClung mountain rolled up and stretched its ridge along. Sweeping along the valley from the left were slow rolling soft ice gray clouds that drifted slowly out into the warmer air of the lowlands were the rays were pulled into bands, hitting the clouds and erupting into a shiny blaze of pastel pinks, salmons, orange rind, low slung lavender and pearly peach. I can only compare the colors to the mass of Oriental Lilies that grow along our garden and how their colors differ but all grow from a radial point. There is nothing to actually compare it to. That sunset is one of the only sunsets that I can remember distinct aspects of. And I have seen sixteen years of sunsets.
We sat there talking of all the coastal sunsets we had seen and how almost none of them amounted to how beautiful this one was until the sun sank halfway into the rolling Earth. It was pulsing orange now, pulling a purple blanket down across the sky but working in pinpricks of white clouds. Getting up slowly we stared at the sky until we were urged to go back. I'm so glad it was him that I shared it with.
When we arrived back in camp we tried to convey just what we had seen up at Lookout, but evening ceremony had already started and the music drowned out our descriptions. I think then we turned to each other and smiled.
"Honey you are the sea on which I float"
List #2
List maker: February Peace Makers,
How to make peace with yourself after the snowfall..
Listomania!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NhhzV5Xv9Tw
1. Find yourself someone to snuggle with!
Do it, do it now before it is too late. You have officially two more days before infinite loneliness begins. Go grab the hobos and the single brooders in the coffee shops, I'm sure they want some love.
2. Physical Activity!
Nothing makes you more attractive than when you are all toned with lovely calves from skiing/running/sledding/jumproping schmexiness. Plus you have to go work out all that cabin fever. Find yourself a shower and a bear rug after a hard day of movement. It is good food for the soul.
3. Chai Lattes and Books, lots and lots o' Books.
I put this one in for myself. Chai chai chai chai.
4. Music!!
There is nothing more satisfying than blowing out the speakers in your car....um. HOUSE MUSIC.
Wave your arms around wildly! Do it!
5. Shaving your legs.
Again, this one was put in for my amusement.
6. Winter Olympics
Makes you feel inferior, but is so entertaining.
7. SNUGGLING
gosh.
How to make peace with yourself after the snowfall..
Listomania!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NhhzV5Xv9Tw
1. Find yourself someone to snuggle with!
Do it, do it now before it is too late. You have officially two more days before infinite loneliness begins. Go grab the hobos and the single brooders in the coffee shops, I'm sure they want some love.
2. Physical Activity!
Nothing makes you more attractive than when you are all toned with lovely calves from skiing/running/sledding/jumproping schmexiness. Plus you have to go work out all that cabin fever. Find yourself a shower and a bear rug after a hard day of movement. It is good food for the soul.
3. Chai Lattes and Books, lots and lots o' Books.
I put this one in for myself. Chai chai chai chai.
4. Music!!
There is nothing more satisfying than blowing out the speakers in your car....um. HOUSE MUSIC.
Wave your arms around wildly! Do it!
5. Shaving your legs.
Again, this one was put in for my amusement.
6. Winter Olympics
Makes you feel inferior, but is so entertaining.
7. SNUGGLING
gosh.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
wi$hes
Icky licky sticky
drool unglue from the pillow, cool
knee jerked my reaction to call up your name
did call, after all, it's what I want to do
all day
hear a voice lip speak a sleepy 'hey'
eventually I replied after unopening my eyes
hitting a speaker key I find an edge to the hot sheets
peeling a banana peel morning I drop off the side
speaking peaceably into the silent otherside
flicking up the on upon the white tile
the bathroom heater runs shikavroomshika
make faces in the mirror while talking with you
peeling back the lips to shove in some paste
morning routine at midday
as I stand there t-shirt and flannel
someone gently unhands my phone from the sticky cheek
you stand there doorway framed
dressed and unsuspected, unexpected
sweeped me up, hugs in all
I don't know what to say
except, "Morning made."
drool unglue from the pillow, cool
knee jerked my reaction to call up your name
did call, after all, it's what I want to do
all day
hear a voice lip speak a sleepy 'hey'
eventually I replied after unopening my eyes
hitting a speaker key I find an edge to the hot sheets
peeling a banana peel morning I drop off the side
speaking peaceably into the silent otherside
flicking up the on upon the white tile
the bathroom heater runs shikavroomshika
make faces in the mirror while talking with you
peeling back the lips to shove in some paste
morning routine at midday
as I stand there t-shirt and flannel
someone gently unhands my phone from the sticky cheek
you stand there doorway framed
dressed and unsuspected, unexpected
sweeped me up, hugs in all
I don't know what to say
except, "Morning made."
Monday, February 8, 2010
Dunnoer?
A bit of word dropping before I start working on school...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tIdIqbv7SPo
....and Bill Withers
So, it's a Monday. Everloving Monday and I am technically skipping school. It's all cool though. I'd really like to ski right now. I'd also like to sled, ice fish, and sit in a duck blind and stalk some geese with a pen and my magic notebook. It's 19 degrees outside, place of the crystal landscape. Every morning it's brighter than the last. There are huge icicles. Now I'm just stalling for time....
I'm a list maker: ODDLY COOL SONG LYRICS
"You found a sweater on the ocean floor"- Vampire Weekend
"Now they know how many holes it takes to fill the Albert Hall.
I'd love to turn you on"- The Beatles
"Oh, the shark, babe, has such teeth, dear
And it shows them pearly white"- Frank Sinatra
"With tangerine trees and marmalade skies, Somebody calls you, you answer quite slowly, A girl with kaleidoscope eyes."- The Beatles
"I'll feed you fruit that don't exist
I'll leave graffiti
Where you've never been kissed"- Beck
Protaganist pigs
holding manilla folders
full of your repetoire of X-rayed brains
they call you out on your indecent exposure
to the oppresive radiation
while you sit under lead shirts
biting your nails
listening to your heart palpatations
with stethoscope ear listeners
they give you a diagnosis
about just how weak you've become
eating mayonnaise and grilled toast
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tIdIqbv7SPo
....and Bill Withers
So, it's a Monday. Everloving Monday and I am technically skipping school. It's all cool though. I'd really like to ski right now. I'd also like to sled, ice fish, and sit in a duck blind and stalk some geese with a pen and my magic notebook. It's 19 degrees outside, place of the crystal landscape. Every morning it's brighter than the last. There are huge icicles. Now I'm just stalling for time....
I'm a list maker: ODDLY COOL SONG LYRICS
"You found a sweater on the ocean floor"- Vampire Weekend
"Now they know how many holes it takes to fill the Albert Hall.
I'd love to turn you on"- The Beatles
"Oh, the shark, babe, has such teeth, dear
And it shows them pearly white"- Frank Sinatra
"With tangerine trees and marmalade skies, Somebody calls you, you answer quite slowly, A girl with kaleidoscope eyes."- The Beatles
"I'll feed you fruit that don't exist
I'll leave graffiti
Where you've never been kissed"- Beck
Protaganist pigs
holding manilla folders
full of your repetoire of X-rayed brains
they call you out on your indecent exposure
to the oppresive radiation
while you sit under lead shirts
biting your nails
listening to your heart palpatations
with stethoscope ear listeners
they give you a diagnosis
about just how weak you've become
eating mayonnaise and grilled toast
Sunday, February 7, 2010
whipers trees
solid water showers
a sweeping dusting
as I walk through many entrenched rows
of silver netted trees
a muffled sea
of powdered posts
green under their decorations
I do stir the weighted boughs
and knock off their freshly fallen burdens
softly collapsing upon the coated ground
I search, for nothing
except the utmost silence
that comes with fallen snow
a sweeping dusting
as I walk through many entrenched rows
of silver netted trees
a muffled sea
of powdered posts
green under their decorations
I do stir the weighted boughs
and knock off their freshly fallen burdens
softly collapsing upon the coated ground
I search, for nothing
except the utmost silence
that comes with fallen snow
Saturday, February 6, 2010
loudly mmmming over food/ We Want You
I'd like to believe that in college I'll have a fridge/pantry (and freezer)
and it will be full of (in this order):
blueberries
creme cheese
bluberry bagels
blueberry pancakes
gala apples
kettle cooked chips
baby carrots
black olives
greek yogurt
sweet peas
pop tarts
tangelos
gnutella
nilla wafers
ocean spray cranberries
lasagna
numi green tea
peppermint tea
limeade
and
pumpernickel bread
If you aren't passionate about what you write, why do you write? If you sit here at the blog feeding in your brain and getting no satisfaction and ranting and cursing yourself because you don't feel what you're writing is worth it, why write? If you sit here, knowing that no one cares what you've done in your day and trying to pull something extra creative and almost meaningless out of your ass, why do you write? If you have moments when you put into words something incredibly beautiful that is the epitomy of what you feel at that moment but you hit the backspace key repeatedly until it's gone, why do you write? If you find yourself trying to please others over yourself because you think they aren't interested or would be weirded out over something that is really emotional from you, why do you write? If you can't man up and put down your life story and you don't want pity, why do you write? If you don't want emotional responses from your readers, why do you write?
This isn't what I'm struggling with right now, this goes to other writers that probably have the problems I just outlined. But, you should probably read that paragraph and ask yourselves the same questions. I've already done this, multiple, many, so many times. I made a deal with myself that when I started making my writing public that I would write even the hard stuff down. The emotional stuff. I write what I think means something to myself. That doesn't make me a better writer, I'm just mediocre at best. The best thing to do in cases where its hard to put down what you feel is to just suck it up and write it. Whatever it is, even if it's your life story. There will always be readers out there somewhere. You're your own reader sometimes. Don't hate yourself for putting it all out there. Don't hate the readers. Write what you feel. Compose it. Proof read it. Pour everything out of that one thing. Shake the rag and wring it again, because if it is that important you need to get every bit out of it. Just put it in words.
and it will be full of (in this order):
blueberries
creme cheese
bluberry bagels
blueberry pancakes
gala apples
kettle cooked chips
baby carrots
black olives
greek yogurt
sweet peas
pop tarts
tangelos
gnutella
nilla wafers
ocean spray cranberries
lasagna
numi green tea
peppermint tea
limeade
and
pumpernickel bread
If you aren't passionate about what you write, why do you write? If you sit here at the blog feeding in your brain and getting no satisfaction and ranting and cursing yourself because you don't feel what you're writing is worth it, why write? If you sit here, knowing that no one cares what you've done in your day and trying to pull something extra creative and almost meaningless out of your ass, why do you write? If you have moments when you put into words something incredibly beautiful that is the epitomy of what you feel at that moment but you hit the backspace key repeatedly until it's gone, why do you write? If you find yourself trying to please others over yourself because you think they aren't interested or would be weirded out over something that is really emotional from you, why do you write? If you can't man up and put down your life story and you don't want pity, why do you write? If you don't want emotional responses from your readers, why do you write?
This isn't what I'm struggling with right now, this goes to other writers that probably have the problems I just outlined. But, you should probably read that paragraph and ask yourselves the same questions. I've already done this, multiple, many, so many times. I made a deal with myself that when I started making my writing public that I would write even the hard stuff down. The emotional stuff. I write what I think means something to myself. That doesn't make me a better writer, I'm just mediocre at best. The best thing to do in cases where its hard to put down what you feel is to just suck it up and write it. Whatever it is, even if it's your life story. There will always be readers out there somewhere. You're your own reader sometimes. Don't hate yourself for putting it all out there. Don't hate the readers. Write what you feel. Compose it. Proof read it. Pour everything out of that one thing. Shake the rag and wring it again, because if it is that important you need to get every bit out of it. Just put it in words.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Froth
The one thing I dred more than being stuck at home for weeks on end during the winter is the eventual thaw. This eventual thaw that will come may be days or weeks away, but when it comes it will be a muddy, brown and red slop for weeks. It will eventually dry out, but the landscape continues to grow grayer and browner until the spring sun comes. The spring sun is one of the most fickle times of sunlight, ever. You sit there during the weekend and look at the pearly clouds and bright blue sky on the clearest of days and watch the winds and it looks good. But looks are not reality. The reality of the looks are freezing winds that suck all of the heat out of you and rock you back as you stand outside in shorts, wondering how you were fooled. There are only two pure types of seasons. There is winter, true winter, where there is snow after snow and the days are gray and pretty, and there is summer, bright and sweating and everlasting.
How to be dramatic; a movie dialogue.
There are two dirty teenagers in a parking lot. Sitting along the bumper of a Gremlin. It is August. They just drank down three 2 liter bottles of generic Mountain Dew in 2.5 minutes. They are considering puking, but have decided against it, instead....
Stew: "Hey Flo, it's really hot outside in the parking lot."
Flo: "Yeah, it's August."
Stew: (heavy sigh flutters his trash stash) (then grabs stomach) Ouch, I'm going to need some pink before I puke on the Gremlin. (Falls to knees) Why did we drink it that fast, why'd you have to dare me!? Owwwaaaaooooo (makes a face)
Flo: "Shut it Annie, we both know that if we drank it at a reasonable pace we would have just had to buy more later. Now we'll be so sick all day. Win, win situation."
Stew: "Damn innovator."
Flo: "I just saved you some money, now get up and respect yourself before I go find you a women's speed stick."
Stew: "Be nice, my bowels are going down Niagra right now."
Flo: "Eww. How much longer do we have to stay here? I think I'm getting a bit red."
Stew: "Hehehe all that nice ginger blood. You're going to be crispy by the time we get out of here. I don't plan on leaving."
Flo: "Why did you bring me? My stomach is knifing...owwww."
Stew: "Owwwwwwwwwwwww"
Flo: "Owwwwwwwwwwww"
Stew: "Arrrrrrrrrrr"
Flo: "Harken!"
Stew: "Whaaaaat?"
Flo: "Over there by the blue Subaru!"
Stew "What is THAT!?"
Flo: " A miracle..."
~To be continued~
Stew: "Hey Flo, it's really hot outside in the parking lot."
Flo: "Yeah, it's August."
Stew: (heavy sigh flutters his trash stash) (then grabs stomach) Ouch, I'm going to need some pink before I puke on the Gremlin. (Falls to knees) Why did we drink it that fast, why'd you have to dare me!? Owwwaaaaooooo (makes a face)
Flo: "Shut it Annie, we both know that if we drank it at a reasonable pace we would have just had to buy more later. Now we'll be so sick all day. Win, win situation."
Stew: "Damn innovator."
Flo: "I just saved you some money, now get up and respect yourself before I go find you a women's speed stick."
Stew: "Be nice, my bowels are going down Niagra right now."
Flo: "Eww. How much longer do we have to stay here? I think I'm getting a bit red."
Stew: "Hehehe all that nice ginger blood. You're going to be crispy by the time we get out of here. I don't plan on leaving."
Flo: "Why did you bring me? My stomach is knifing...owwww."
Stew: "Owwwwwwwwwwwww"
Flo: "Owwwwwwwwwwww"
Stew: "Arrrrrrrrrrr"
Flo: "Harken!"
Stew: "Whaaaaat?"
Flo: "Over there by the blue Subaru!"
Stew "What is THAT!?"
Flo: " A miracle..."
~To be continued~
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
chilly
Things I think are cool
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4ltvjOj9m-c
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SHikpdf8ktM
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xd4IxRHlNVQ
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HgdPXp5phNY
http://www.nutandbee.com
http://www.6dollarshirts.com
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cLJ1vuUWprA
....just a few
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4ltvjOj9m-c
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SHikpdf8ktM
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xd4IxRHlNVQ
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HgdPXp5phNY
http://www.nutandbee.com
http://www.6dollarshirts.com
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cLJ1vuUWprA
....just a few
Monday, February 1, 2010
They tell you cowboys make good lovers
How the west was really won. This is not a tale about some weather worn man wearing plaid in the prairie wind. How he took his strong warm hands and tied up some thousand pound beast. It's not the tale of the settler's with their rifles and wagon wheels. About how they settled and killed the buffalo. It isn't the painting of a prairie sunset on canvas for the first time. It isn't the Hoover dam.
No, the west was won with some wire. Wire stretched between two posts. Two posts in sucession over millions of miles. Now you may say, "Well the cowboys put that up, put cows on the land." and sure, they put it up. But, the wire did its own work. With barbs evenly set to tear apart equine and bovine flesh alike if they should try to escape, this wire made cowboys and their ability to ride the horse well and guide the wayward cows in obsolete. Barbed wire stretched across the land, tearing into the back of providence with strips of rusty wire wrapped in nails. Criss-crossing along wooden posts for as many miles as the one cowboy had license to own. Then more cowboys moved in, and with them, more cows. They didn't have to be nomads of the open terrain, to ride the open down to the stocks to collect their livelihood. They could grow fat, fat upon the land, and sit comfortably in their homes, hire out the work to the less fortunate who had to brave the beating wind. The cows could grow fat upon the limited annual renewal of the open grassland, carving into it with dinnerplate hooves and seven stomachs. Upon the beast the landowner grew fat and contented, hiring out the annual pilgrimage to the meat markets to the many tan faced wanderers that tacked up their painted ponies with sun cracked leather. Yes, the barbed wire stuck, wrapping itself around the breathing beast of the prairie, made it do its bidding, burdened it with the attempt to feed so many on its limited resources. A whole territory subdivided into what was theirs and what was the rest, for the many recluses of the night to try to sneak in through its steely, biting fingers and take what did not belong. To drag back to their dens and to the cubs, kits, pups, and kittens and feed their hungry, needing maws. To try to complete the natural cycle of life. But the landowners did not like that. They came with their rifles or hired out their own specialized bounty hunters to lay in wait and to annihilate the theives. Theives on a land that was claimed much longer than the human lifespan by the claws, hooves and talons that abided there ages ago. The west was won with a strand of twisted metal that beat the open land into obedience.
The west was won.
No, the west was won with some wire. Wire stretched between two posts. Two posts in sucession over millions of miles. Now you may say, "Well the cowboys put that up, put cows on the land." and sure, they put it up. But, the wire did its own work. With barbs evenly set to tear apart equine and bovine flesh alike if they should try to escape, this wire made cowboys and their ability to ride the horse well and guide the wayward cows in obsolete. Barbed wire stretched across the land, tearing into the back of providence with strips of rusty wire wrapped in nails. Criss-crossing along wooden posts for as many miles as the one cowboy had license to own. Then more cowboys moved in, and with them, more cows. They didn't have to be nomads of the open terrain, to ride the open down to the stocks to collect their livelihood. They could grow fat, fat upon the land, and sit comfortably in their homes, hire out the work to the less fortunate who had to brave the beating wind. The cows could grow fat upon the limited annual renewal of the open grassland, carving into it with dinnerplate hooves and seven stomachs. Upon the beast the landowner grew fat and contented, hiring out the annual pilgrimage to the meat markets to the many tan faced wanderers that tacked up their painted ponies with sun cracked leather. Yes, the barbed wire stuck, wrapping itself around the breathing beast of the prairie, made it do its bidding, burdened it with the attempt to feed so many on its limited resources. A whole territory subdivided into what was theirs and what was the rest, for the many recluses of the night to try to sneak in through its steely, biting fingers and take what did not belong. To drag back to their dens and to the cubs, kits, pups, and kittens and feed their hungry, needing maws. To try to complete the natural cycle of life. But the landowners did not like that. They came with their rifles or hired out their own specialized bounty hunters to lay in wait and to annihilate the theives. Theives on a land that was claimed much longer than the human lifespan by the claws, hooves and talons that abided there ages ago. The west was won with a strand of twisted metal that beat the open land into obedience.
The west was won.
Gross
Mmmm, snow day break.
There are a million things not to do on a snow day.
Like washing your hair. That may sound gross to you, but don't worry, I haven't come in contact with anyone outside my family since after it got really 'shiny'. I really hate washing my hair when I don't have to. It may be going on five days now.
I don't have to run on break which may be a good/bad thing. I have run after my dog, horse and sister though. And I tackled her. That took a fair amount of energy.
Homework...yeah, I really need to do some homework.
Things to do on break:
eat snow
watch TV til your brain hurts
watch more tv
read a lil
bury self in snow
take warm shower
garble up some dinner
watch a blood bath
play a lil scrabble
...not do homework
There are a million things not to do on a snow day.
Like washing your hair. That may sound gross to you, but don't worry, I haven't come in contact with anyone outside my family since after it got really 'shiny'. I really hate washing my hair when I don't have to. It may be going on five days now.
I don't have to run on break which may be a good/bad thing. I have run after my dog, horse and sister though. And I tackled her. That took a fair amount of energy.
Homework...yeah, I really need to do some homework.
Things to do on break:
eat snow
watch TV til your brain hurts
watch more tv
read a lil
bury self in snow
take warm shower
garble up some dinner
watch a blood bath
play a lil scrabble
...not do homework
luna, luna
Knee deep in the lacy
creamy, poured on milk wonder
of over thousands of
powdered sugar glints
I stand there hinting
up to the moon
"I'd love if you were down here"
The man catches the hint
and sends the blue light
down on me
and among the trees
And at midnight
I walk through his shadows
a colder heat
wafting from my mouth
As I walk
with
the moon
creamy, poured on milk wonder
of over thousands of
powdered sugar glints
I stand there hinting
up to the moon
"I'd love if you were down here"
The man catches the hint
and sends the blue light
down on me
and among the trees
And at midnight
I walk through his shadows
a colder heat
wafting from my mouth
As I walk
with
the moon
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