Impromtu Poem Or Two

This is going to be a day for The Cure. First song of the day, "Friday I'm In Love".

I finally got a little bit of sleep the last two days. I smoked pot yesterday to keep migraine away and I was practically useless. I think I smoked a tiny bit more than usual. But guess what?!

This is the FIRST time I have NOT had a pre-period migraine. The very first. I tried to increase my intake just slightly this month, to see if I could keep the first one away. I was able to keep the second round at bay because I'd have the first one and then remember to take inhales to avoid the next. Otherwise, I wouldn't touch the stuff.

I just barely had a twinge of a headache a day ago but it didn't even turn into a tension headache. And no, it's not that I need pot to "calm down" or for anxiety or anything. I really have migraines, which were diagnosed over 10 years ago, before I ever had any remote issues with anxiety. They're true migraines.

I didn't have to work yesterday, so it was okay to smoke more.

I don't know if I'm even really having periods, but I had just a tiny bit of blood on a tissue (scant) and stomach cramps and backache like I should start. But nothing. I'm sort of wondering if this is the end of it. I wanted more children, I thought. I wanted that option and I wanted my son to have playmate and brother or sister or both. I don't think this is possible anymore. I guess I should sign up for the study at NIH that this scientist wants me to be a part of. Maybe they can figure something out.

I'm hearing "Close To Me" now and smiled at the part in the video where he picks at a comb. It reminded me of something last night, when I was smoking with a friend who got the guitar out and we tried singing/playing some stuff. I was experimenting with different things on his coffee table, for background sound. House keys, empty beer bottles, scissors (which were kind of cool) and then, the best find of the night--a wine opener! By holding it and shaking it forward and pulling back, so that the prongs hit the stem of the opener, you get this nice clank. It reminded me of someone hammering on railroad ties so I started singing, and he started playing, "I've Been Working On the Railroad." We tried a disastrous version of "Chain Gang" and he wasn't into "Chain, chain, chain." We also sang some Bob Dylan.

I really like this one: "Just Like Heaven". This one bears several repeats.

My best friend in high school was into, and would only play, The Cure, Depeche Mode, and New Wave-punk stuff. It reminds me of her.

I may try to freewrite, sans marijuana, and then write TTSOMLs.

Listened to "Personal Jesus" by Depeche and then the word estuary came to mind so I looked up a band by that name. It was death metal so I didn't last long. The guitar playing was pretty good, but ick. I decided I'm moving on to Beyonce's "Soldier".

Hmmm. I should say something about what I wrote about the Jewel "rip off". What I said is true. It could be some crazy coincidence, but the lyrics and words are almost identical, and the melody as well. I have a tape somewhere, just like I had clips of me and my son, so you know I'm not lying. I am not making it up.

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In the garden one block from the park
cats climb the trees, chasing squirrels
In the garden
cats prefer to where a man was shot
Last night, in the garden
it sounded like a Greek Wedding
cantina clatter, tiki lights, and this morning
abandoned chairs and a brightly striped cloth
draped across a table.
I thought they were speaking a version of French at first
this one said Spanish
the tablecloth looks Spanish
this one i wanted
wanted to take in the crowd
in the dark but if someone was looking closely
could have made out shadows
someone could have been feeding me tamales but
nothing, free to speak, sing, breathe
needed nothing to drink, fountain flowing,
my cup was full, mind clear and too soon only made me
notice how long the tiki lights burn
how long the lights were on and off and
flickering across the room
after this one had left
the garden, with cats crawling the trees like
jaguars, pretending to be the big cats,
my own personal zoo.
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This one i speak of, the one in my ear,
is a close relative of the moon.
The shadows cast are by this kind of light
understated, waxing waning warming cold as hell is confused
by how that one ever
got away
how did he get away?
by the light of the moon, and no one knew his
close connection
this one i speak of never speaks to me
is only an image and a dream and something
i imagine
to fill up my time and my pages with
poetry
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i am delusional.
i would make a terrible wife, diplomat, mother,
lawyer, queen, and friend.
i am good for nothing but art
and this is why artists starve to death
not for lack of bread
but air
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