You, you, you.
Are you falling into me?
Like I fell into you?
And wishing you were mine.
Fighting and lighting.
Lifting and sifting.
Falling and calling.
Texting and sexting.
Find me, please.
On my floor.
Skin and bones.
From what you made of me.
Bleeding from the gums.
Vomiting all I can't eat.
Capriciously being the Capricorn that doesn't make sense.
Astrologically confused.
Since I was supposed to be a Sagittarius anyhow.
Married to a Scorpio.
Loving a Virgo.
Daughter of Leo and Libra.
Dreaming of a Capricorn.
With cusp children to confuse me even more.
I've got a bullheaded twin.
And a sunny thinker.
As if their circumstances weren't enough to make them seem strange.
To all but me.
To you.
When you see them.
Sun and moon.
Dark and light.
Tan and bright.
Strong and weak.
But beautiful, both.
When you see them.
You know.
You.
Know.
It's that time of year.
Again, it has reared its head.
But insomnia has come back early this year.
And the sadness.
The sad disease.
It is taking over.
My bones.
Will not stay.
Not for you.
Or you.
Or you.
Or you.
Just you.
And you.
You.
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Life's Left - 10thDoM RoM An Extraordinary Discomfort
You.
You.
You.
It wasn't that long ago that life left me where I stand.
In the shadows of your words.
And worlds.
Where wishes live less freely than the airplanes they're made on.
But the spice and space were founded in those times.
When you were but nice.
The few and far.
Between me and you.
The passion between me and you.
Leads to an equal and opposite reaction.
Extraordinary in its discomforting gaze.
As I was frayed, torn and tattered, and ripped.
Into shreds I found myself worn, wan for your threads.
You.
Your threads.
Your bed.
Your moves.
Your strong stance.
Your dark empty glance.
Wondering where you are in there.
Wandering around in there.
Pleading as I stood on your stairs.
You just stare.
Uncomfortably numb.
It’s amazing how extraordinarily discomforting those eyes have become.
As you raise your gaze.
And ask me rhetorical questions.
Which I answer.
Because I don’t know questions are rhetorical.
But they are to you.
And you.
And you.
And everyone else it seems.
Except me.
Just you.
You.
And I left you where my life left.
On the stairs.
In that strangely clean apartment.
On the Main Street in our town.
Where I slid to the side.
And I was hit blind.
But it was better that way.
Losing a life in a few minutes.
Losing a friend.
Losing you.
Because you can’t see anything but yourself.
When you look in the mirror.
Just you.
You.
And you.
You.
You.
You.
You.
You.
You.
You.
It wasn't that long ago that life left me where I stand.
In the shadows of your words.
And worlds.
Where wishes live less freely than the airplanes they're made on.
But the spice and space were founded in those times.
When you were but nice.
The few and far.
Between me and you.
The passion between me and you.
Leads to an equal and opposite reaction.
Extraordinary in its discomforting gaze.
As I was frayed, torn and tattered, and ripped.
Into shreds I found myself worn, wan for your threads.
You.
Your threads.
Your bed.
Your moves.
Your strong stance.
Your dark empty glance.
Wondering where you are in there.
Wandering around in there.
Pleading as I stood on your stairs.
You just stare.
Uncomfortably numb.
It’s amazing how extraordinarily discomforting those eyes have become.
As you raise your gaze.
And ask me rhetorical questions.
Which I answer.
Because I don’t know questions are rhetorical.
But they are to you.
And you.
And you.
And everyone else it seems.
Except me.
Just you.
You.
And I left you where my life left.
On the stairs.
In that strangely clean apartment.
On the Main Street in our town.
Where I slid to the side.
And I was hit blind.
But it was better that way.
Losing a life in a few minutes.
Losing a friend.
Losing you.
Because you can’t see anything but yourself.
When you look in the mirror.
Just you.
You.
And you.
You.
You.
You.
You.
You.
UAE - 10thDom RoM Fariq's Final Fantasia
You.
You.
You.
You.
You.
And you'd have me climb, climb, climb.
All the mountains you'd push me to fall.
Fall.
Fall.
Isn't it funny, that final failing?
For all the fluctuating, vacillating, obliterating you're phoning them in.
Was it fun, finding that fountain of earth.
Funneling from the ground.
Reaching the sky, not really.
From a peak in your final frontier?
Fly down Fujairah.
Were you there, Jabal Fariq?
Fuck fantastic fantasy fairies for fun, and profit.
Theirs, the profit.
Were you there, Jabal Fariq?
Finding friendly females feigning for funds for a fuck?
And you were willing.
Because, we've already found.
It's all about you.
You.
You.
You.
You.
Find yourself flailing, now do you?
Find yourself failing, now you do.
Flat out for you.
It's all about you.
And you.
And you.
And you.
And you.
And the five others you found from the fuck friend channels.
Because, for the final frame, it's forever for you.
You.
You.
You.
You.
You.
You.
And you'd have me climb, climb, climb.
All the mountains you'd push me to fall.
Fall.
Fall.
Isn't it funny, that final failing?
For all the fluctuating, vacillating, obliterating you're phoning them in.
Was it fun, finding that fountain of earth.
Funneling from the ground.
Reaching the sky, not really.
From a peak in your final frontier?
Fly down Fujairah.
Were you there, Jabal Fariq?
Fuck fantastic fantasy fairies for fun, and profit.
Theirs, the profit.
Were you there, Jabal Fariq?
Finding friendly females feigning for funds for a fuck?
And you were willing.
Because, we've already found.
It's all about you.
You.
You.
You.
You.
Find yourself flailing, now do you?
Find yourself failing, now you do.
Flat out for you.
It's all about you.
And you.
And you.
And you.
And you.
And the five others you found from the fuck friend channels.
Because, for the final frame, it's forever for you.
You.
You.
Long Ago - 10thDoM RoM A Legacy of Smoke and Shadow
It wasn't that long ago that I saw your face for the first time.
At least, not that long in the history of man.
And it wasn't that long ago that I wished that your eyes would see my face too.
But then I'd look away.
Pretend I didn't see you seeing me.
I would undo that first kiss, that first lisp, that first...
Well, everything.
I wished for you on stars and clouds and airplanes at night.
Because I didn't know better.
You were shadows.
I was smoky.
You said so.
And I heard you.
I was for play.
Foreplay.
Falling apart at my seams, so it seems.
And you were so good with needle and thread.
Weaving in and out of my life and even me.
At will.
Your will.
Not mine.
Don't you remember the first last time?
The first completion.
The last time.
With her listening from above and us listening from the next room.
That's our legacy.
There's always a first last time.
For you to sing that first last line.
That I never want to hear.
You're a tune I can't leave.
Stuck on repeat.
You.
Repeat.
You.
You.
You.
You.
You.
You.
You.
You.
Me.
You.
You.
You.
You.
You.
You.
You.
It's all about you, isn't it darling?
At least, not that long in the history of man.
And it wasn't that long ago that I wished that your eyes would see my face too.
But then I'd look away.
Pretend I didn't see you seeing me.
I would undo that first kiss, that first lisp, that first...
Well, everything.
I wished for you on stars and clouds and airplanes at night.
Because I didn't know better.
You were shadows.
I was smoky.
You said so.
And I heard you.
I was for play.
Foreplay.
Falling apart at my seams, so it seems.
And you were so good with needle and thread.
Weaving in and out of my life and even me.
At will.
Your will.
Not mine.
Don't you remember the first last time?
The first completion.
The last time.
With her listening from above and us listening from the next room.
That's our legacy.
There's always a first last time.
For you to sing that first last line.
That I never want to hear.
You're a tune I can't leave.
Stuck on repeat.
You.
Repeat.
You.
You.
You.
You.
You.
You.
You.
You.
Me.
You.
You.
You.
You.
You.
You.
You.
It's all about you, isn't it darling?
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Night Swim - 10thDoM Beneath the Pools of Another Moon
It's a new year, and Jelly is back and... Well, probably not better than ever but not too much worse for the wear.
silver shine across lithe long parts
lines of luminescence linger and then fall,
but the eyes stay where the paths traced
down the gentle sways and curves
cool air smiles upon her limbs
and the favorite parts of men, obviously so,
a vision in the night, art meets reality
so easily, the eyes must stay
alabaster skin beneath ebony hair
hazel eyes aglow, reflecting your own face
gaze seized and then caught, a smirk
crawls across lightly pinked lips
fine fingers flicker cerulean strands
toes curl and massage the grit of tiny sands
sweet laughter saunters in, killing silence
and drums beat heavily inside this night
silver shine across lithe long parts
lines of luminescence linger and then fall,
but the eyes stay where the paths traced
down the gentle sways and curves
cool air smiles upon her limbs
and the favorite parts of men, obviously so,
a vision in the night, art meets reality
so easily, the eyes must stay
alabaster skin beneath ebony hair
hazel eyes aglow, reflecting your own face
gaze seized and then caught, a smirk
crawls across lightly pinked lips
fine fingers flicker cerulean strands
toes curl and massage the grit of tiny sands
sweet laughter saunters in, killing silence
and drums beat heavily inside this night
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Where's Jelly? - 10thDoM Deathbed Revenge
I'm not much for writing these days. It has been an interesting summer. Fall is now here, and I warily look forward to a more productive existence.
My body has pretty much rejected me at this point. Two things happened this summer: First, a diagnosis of Ehlers-Danlos, a genetic collagen defect that affects my ligaments and make them hyperextensive and come with lots of other fun things... Like... Easy and frequent bruising, extreme nearsightedness, strange body relative measurements (I have a wingspan of 5'10" but I am just 5'7"), the lovely early onset of normal degenerative conditions like osteoarthritis and periodontitis, chronic fatigue, GI problems (more on that in a bit), and my personal favorite, the ability to subluxate and/or dislocate certain joints easily or even at will (see left hip and left wrist!)
On the plus side, this is the answer to many, many unanswered medical questions throughout my life. Like - why do I have such low blood pressure and such a high heart rate? And why can't I see?!? And why are my kneecaps moving to the sides of my knees? And why can I jump rope through my arms? And why, oh, why was pregnancy so unbelievably painful? More importantly, why did I do it twice?!? That's the masochism, a completely unrelated condition and a blog for another day.
Probably the most interesting thing about the condition is that I've always had to have a second dose of local anesthetics and I've always been able to count down far more than I was told on general anesthetics. Nearly all painkillers are completely useless to me, and morphine, intravenous morphine has no more effect on me than saline solution.
Which leads us to the GI problems, aka the second thing that happened (because there were only two!), and where I've been all summer. On Mother's Day, I woke up with the most horrid vertigo. I thought I had some sort of hangover. I don't really get hangovers though - a little upset tummy but never a headache or the like. I'm no lightweight, but I attributed it to breaking my cardinal rule of drinking: Don't mix alcohols. And I'd imbibed on a couple of glasses of wine fairly early in the evening and then a couple of shots of good ol' Jack Daniels straight from the bottle later. Waking up with vertigo was just proof that my rule, which had never before been tested, was right on target.
That vertigo lasted a week. Shortly thereafter, I was getting sick every time I ate. I gained 20 pounds, had a voracious appetite, horrid acid reflux, intense bloating and pain, felt like I had the flu, had achy femurs, ZERO energy, was dehydrated, nauseated, and my ankles were swelling. And no, I was not pregnant! If I had a nickel for every time someone asked me that, I would have a LOT of nickels! Anyhow after having ultrasounds on my gallbladder to check for gallstones, pelvis to check for cysts and cancer, and an upper GI endoscopy to check for Celiac sprue, all of which came back relatively clear, it was determined that I have IBS (yes, I know, lovely) and some sort of wheat/gluten allergy or intolerance.
If I had known all I had to do was not eat gluten! Argh! I had multiple times that my boss wanted to send me home from work because, despite the weight gain and the fact that it was summer, I looked gaunt and pale. And there were times my friends wanted to call an ambulance because I looked so disgustingly horrid. No, life this summer was not fun, folks!
So, in case you were wondering, that's where I have been. I also now have a happier yet much busier life. Playing euphonium in a brass band and a wind ensemble, singing in choir, riding bikes and training to ride across Iowa next summer, teaching lots, taxiing kids, hanging out with great friends, and embarking on a new incarnation of an old relationship. Despite the sickness, I had a much happier summer than I have in years. I have a difficult time writing in my happier times. The muse just seems to hibernate. The goal, then, would be to try to write while I'm happy and see what comes out.
Anyhow, despite the revenge that my deathbed is attempting to exact on me far too early in life, I'm intermittently back and happier for it.
My body has pretty much rejected me at this point. Two things happened this summer: First, a diagnosis of Ehlers-Danlos, a genetic collagen defect that affects my ligaments and make them hyperextensive and come with lots of other fun things... Like... Easy and frequent bruising, extreme nearsightedness, strange body relative measurements (I have a wingspan of 5'10" but I am just 5'7"), the lovely early onset of normal degenerative conditions like osteoarthritis and periodontitis, chronic fatigue, GI problems (more on that in a bit), and my personal favorite, the ability to subluxate and/or dislocate certain joints easily or even at will (see left hip and left wrist!)
On the plus side, this is the answer to many, many unanswered medical questions throughout my life. Like - why do I have such low blood pressure and such a high heart rate? And why can't I see?!? And why are my kneecaps moving to the sides of my knees? And why can I jump rope through my arms? And why, oh, why was pregnancy so unbelievably painful? More importantly, why did I do it twice?!? That's the masochism, a completely unrelated condition and a blog for another day.
Probably the most interesting thing about the condition is that I've always had to have a second dose of local anesthetics and I've always been able to count down far more than I was told on general anesthetics. Nearly all painkillers are completely useless to me, and morphine, intravenous morphine has no more effect on me than saline solution.
Which leads us to the GI problems, aka the second thing that happened (because there were only two!), and where I've been all summer. On Mother's Day, I woke up with the most horrid vertigo. I thought I had some sort of hangover. I don't really get hangovers though - a little upset tummy but never a headache or the like. I'm no lightweight, but I attributed it to breaking my cardinal rule of drinking: Don't mix alcohols. And I'd imbibed on a couple of glasses of wine fairly early in the evening and then a couple of shots of good ol' Jack Daniels straight from the bottle later. Waking up with vertigo was just proof that my rule, which had never before been tested, was right on target.
That vertigo lasted a week. Shortly thereafter, I was getting sick every time I ate. I gained 20 pounds, had a voracious appetite, horrid acid reflux, intense bloating and pain, felt like I had the flu, had achy femurs, ZERO energy, was dehydrated, nauseated, and my ankles were swelling. And no, I was not pregnant! If I had a nickel for every time someone asked me that, I would have a LOT of nickels! Anyhow after having ultrasounds on my gallbladder to check for gallstones, pelvis to check for cysts and cancer, and an upper GI endoscopy to check for Celiac sprue, all of which came back relatively clear, it was determined that I have IBS (yes, I know, lovely) and some sort of wheat/gluten allergy or intolerance.
If I had known all I had to do was not eat gluten! Argh! I had multiple times that my boss wanted to send me home from work because, despite the weight gain and the fact that it was summer, I looked gaunt and pale. And there were times my friends wanted to call an ambulance because I looked so disgustingly horrid. No, life this summer was not fun, folks!
So, in case you were wondering, that's where I have been. I also now have a happier yet much busier life. Playing euphonium in a brass band and a wind ensemble, singing in choir, riding bikes and training to ride across Iowa next summer, teaching lots, taxiing kids, hanging out with great friends, and embarking on a new incarnation of an old relationship. Despite the sickness, I had a much happier summer than I have in years. I have a difficult time writing in my happier times. The muse just seems to hibernate. The goal, then, would be to try to write while I'm happy and see what comes out.
Anyhow, despite the revenge that my deathbed is attempting to exact on me far too early in life, I'm intermittently back and happier for it.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Chokehold - 10thDoM A Better Ending
You are my weakness, my failing wings. I fly low without you, high with, and am devastated by the space between. There are songs for us, and they are deeply disturbing. I am your tornado, and you, my volcano. The pleasure I imagine in your eyes at my pain is only paralleled by the glitter in them as you explode in me. As I wreak havoc on your life, your home, your white marbled body of stone, I spit upon the other subtle breezes you've let come wafting by. I can't imagine my life without you although I should, and I should be happy in it, but you are the intensity, the destruction, the drug I need to be able to feel... Anything. That you could be kind, I could not fathom, and that you were has taken my breath. The cruelty thereafter is just part of the process of how I process and keep you in my chaotic little categorical boxes of my mind. Believe me when I say that you are the malignant poison that I willingly love and loathe and drink from any time your cup is offered to my parched and pursed lips. I live for your nonexistent love to flow from your sad slateblue eyes and halfquirked mouth threaded into a deviant smile, through your light flutterby kisses and the choking hold of your concrete strong hands around my throat. And all I can think as the pressure on my chest causes my mind to blank and the sparkling euphoria to break through is how this way the end is so much better even if you break my heart every time I leave.
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