Monday, January 28, 2008

January 27, 2008 8:05 p.m. (on the back of a local magazine)

Well it just kinda comes down to you. What is it that you like? What is it that you will enjoy? Me? Well I find it grand to sit by the fire and write. I find it enchanting to visit a museum. I enjoy a day at the park. I love playing like a kid. I get lost in music and enjoy dancing. Playing on a slide or jumping rope make me laugh. I love driving anywhere, everywhere. I look forward to plays. I even enjoy cooking. We could take a class together. We could cook or we could paint. We could photograph all we love. We could drive into oblivion. We could sing.
I love the glowing
in the pot of
warming my toes


I slept last night with the smell still on me
I woke up this morning with the smell still saturated in my shirt
I walked back into my classroom with the smell newly embedded into the walls

It may be only my imagination, but the smell of that fireplace from last night has taken over my life. It's a yummy smell. A comfortable smell. A happy smell.

Sunday, January 27, 2008

dreams or nightmares

Last night I dreamed of twins. There is only so much I can remember. From that I shall compile a list. From that I shall speak the truth.

They were twins. I think they were both girls.
They were not mine, though I loved them and took care of them. They were beautiful.
In the dream I knew their names. In the dream I forgot their names. In the dream I last remember trying to remember their names and saying they sounded like "Laziza."
In the dream I think I was happy.
In the dream I remember some weird things. I think I was trying to run from someone, but I don't know who it was.
There was somethng weird about the house. I don't remember what. Stairs were involved; the house seems to be high up.
The dream left me feeling....not weird, not hollow, but not dreamlike happy. It was just like life on a normal day. I don't really know if it was a dream or a nightmare. I think there were things about it that seemed to make me scared, but there were things about it that made me feel somewhat happy as well, I think. I couldn't tell you what. If I did, I'd be lying and the last thing I'd want to do is lie about my dreams. Too personal.

Twins. I know I'm changing. I know. I know that desire is beginning to awaken (or reawaken?). I know it. I'm repressing, but I know it. I seem to hide it as I hide the tears I never cry or the sadness I never feel or even the happiness I never experience.

Twins. They were beautiful twins. I held them in my arms. I laughed with them. I think I cried too. But they were so like mine. And they were real.

Twins. I can't tell you their names. I can't tell you what color hair they had (light colored?) or what colored eyes (brown?) or what their names are (Azizah?). But oh, they had chubby rose-colored cheeks you can't help but pinch. They were happy babies. They were somehow my babies. They were twins.

Twins. Last night I dreamt of twins. It wasn't a nightmare. It wasn't a dream. It was twins. Twins!

Thursday, January 24, 2008

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

Reading: Abnormal behavior

The Onion

Area Eccentric Reads Entire Book

GREENWOOD,IN—"Instead of spending hours on YouTube every night, Mr. Meyer, unlike most healthy males, looks to books for gratification," said one psychologist.

If you've never read the onion, you are missing out!

Monday, January 21, 2008

worst of all are those things written,
written horribly beautifully,
that can't be spoken
for their horrific truth
would shatter the silence
that makes this so great,
so horribly, terrifically great.

worst of all are those things written,
written quite magically,
that can't be shared
for their magnificent truth
would halt the world
that makes this so hard,
so amazingly, terribly hard.

not fulfilled
not unhappy
not quite myself


not forgiven
not forgiving
not forgotten


not silent
not talking
not here


Sunday, January 20, 2008

haiku in my head

imagine your world
as a pea in a green pod
only much smaller

Thursday, January 17, 2008

delight in piano-hope in key

Monday, January 14, 2008
8:16 p.m.

Even though it may be
cold outside
and freezing inside,
I'm here.
I'm not going anywhere.
As a matter of fact
you'll be hearing
more of the now's
and the once were's
and the forevermore's.
You'll be thinking
I'm crazy and not
all there but
I am, escpecially
when the music
plays in the
I am so exhausted.

Unbelievably exhausted.

Last night I had the first truly adult conversation about literature I've had in a very long time. It was over Freud's Civilization and Its Discontents and William Golding's Lord of the Flies. It was amazing! I understood more of Freud than I thought I would. Plus I actually enjoyed reading it and thinking about his philosophy. And talking about Lord of the Flies is always fun! I have truly missed my English classes. Truly. I've missed the discussion, the philosophy, the theory. Even after teaching all day, class last night was actually rejuvenating even if it was until 10 p.m.

It was probably the reason I couldn't sleep until nearly midnight.

Too late.

Maybe that's why I'm so tired?

Happy but tired.

Monday, January 14, 2008


I dreamed of water.

I was dying of thirst.

I drank gallons upon gallons of water.

Clear, cold, delicious water.

Sunday, January 13, 2008


Don't tell anybody, or laugh at me, but

I'm wearing flip flops!

(in January!)
(and I'll do it again and again!)
(and I'm happy in them!)
(yes, my feet are cold tonight.)
(yeah, happy and cold!)
Do you think that my million and one reasons for not having kids has backfired on me?

The world around me is pregnant despite my warnings.

(I wish them all the best...and my babysitting services will be discounted for friends of course :)

as if

It was as if the wind
In blowing
Had forgotten what it was like
To stay in one place

It is as if my heart
In hurting
Has forgotten what it was like
To hope in one thing

It was as if the sun
In shining
Had forgotten the joy
Of a cool night’s shower

It is as if my heart
In ignoring
Had forgotten the happiness
Of a warm friend’s embrace

Thursday, January 10, 2008

Starry eyed

Look outside:

the night sky so clear,

the stars brightly shining,
the engine softly humming,
the wind mildly chilling,

the stars immensely burning,
the world softly sleeping,
the darkness sweetly enveloping,

my head so clear.

Now look inside.

Wednesday, January 09, 2008

I have class tonight from 7:30-10:00. After teaching all day, I don't know how I'll last. BLAH!

On a brighter note, I've found a yoga class for only $45 for 15 hours! WOOHOO! Oh, and I'm thinking of taking a salsa class for a month! I don't know who the teacher is or what the class is like, so I don't know. I'd love to take it for my own personal health, but we'll see. Yoga! I call it gay all the time, but now that I can't find any good yoga classes I want to take it. Yoga! Hmm.

Tuesday, January 08, 2008

remembering monday

Monday 4:20 p.m.

Warm as it may seem
breezy as it is
bright with the sun's sweet kiss,
the water is frigid.

When I heard the weatherman announcing seventy degree weather, I changed out of my sweater: spring top, slacks, no socks, light scarf. When I saw them in shorts, flip flops, and tees, I promised myself I'd escape. And so the four o'clock hour finds me here, at the river's edge, slacks rolled up, toes dancing inthe water, pen in hand singing praise as the water lolls me to good spirits.

I think it must have been the winter that made me that way. It was the winter with its blue tint and icy chill that stole my happiness away.

I'm happiest now. What can be more serene than flip-flops and sunshine? What can be better than the water speaking her dreams to the wind upon which the birds, my hopes, and my dreams soar?

Monday, January 07, 2008

Just call me a hypocrite.

At least I can take it all back.


Today I go once again to the tunnel. Today I'll spend at least some of my daylight hours dreaming and dancing in the sunlight. Today I'll search the insides of the earth for a secret. Today I'll get lost only to be found by the rays of sweet goodness.

Dearest sun, warm my soul. Dearest sun, revive my spirit. Dearest sun, bring back my heart. Dearest sun, friends we'll be forevermore.


By the time you read this, I'll already be gone.

Sunday, January 06, 2008


never freakin' mind

flip flops in january

Sitting here with the sun on my back, in my face, at my fingertips, it is no wonder Thoreau so loved Walden Park. I too love the trees naked even on this warm January morning. I too feel the serenity of pleasant waterfalls. I too loved man but love more nature with her bewitching charms.

what i mean: what i say: what i don't want

I loved
Yet loving means leaving a hole
A mark on the wall

I loved
Yet loving meant crushing the little
Piece of me inside

I loved
Yet loving means pretending not to feel
The rising swell outside

I loved
Yet loving meant losing every bit
Of self preservation left here

I loved
Yet loving means, meant, and will always mean
Very little overall

I loved
Yet loving got me nowhere


What I meant to say was I’m sorry
I’m sorry I cared
I’m sorry I said it
I’m sorry I can’t look away
I’m sorry I tried
I’m sorry I ruined it
I’m sorry I still try
I’m sorry I can’t say I didn’t mean it
I’m sorry I can’t have it
I’m sorry I still do

What I said was nothing
I just looked that way
I just talked that way
I just pretended that way
I just moved away
I just turned away
I just danced away
I just found a way
I just forced my way
I just felt my way

What I hope for is hopeless
Hopeless in its prospect
Hopeless in its endeavor
Hopeless in its inevitable failure
Hopeless in its efforts
Hopeless in its desires
Hopeless in its effect
Hopeless in its age
Hopeless in its vivacity
Hopeless in its pathetic hope

What I dream of is empty
Dreams of nights
Dreams of apartments
Dreams of furniture
Dreams of cars
Dreams of pattering feet
Dreams of gowns
Dreams of dancing
Dreams of secrets no longer
Dreams of tomorrow

What I am is more
More than this agony
More than this question
More than this moment
More than this man
More than this time
More than these words
More than this problem
More than this end
More than this

What I mean: I love you, so what?


It all gets me no where. I don’t even know why I still write. It’s like I enjoy the writing. I enjoy the probing. It’s also a tidbit scary. I think it is more than that though. It’s as if I’m not even me. I’m not really the one experiencing it all. I’m not really the one who must go through this. I’m not really the one who feels that way. Oh no. Not me. Just my fingertips. Just print that makes me me. Just the me that appears when I write. The me that’s really you and you and you. The me that doesn’t even resemble me. The me that tries to kill it all away. The me that really hates the you that can’t love the me in love with you.