images

touchdown. hike that one up
annie's got her gun
had her fun, showing down as you get
played left, right, front and back
skipping in knee socks
planning attack
the best houses are folding
the best houses are folding
some falling in love
watching leaves levitate from rough bark
sailing over the walled gardens into another backyard
mixing with the best and worst
try to draw the line now
try to take sides now
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a cottonball
why can't you throw things away
must you keep your cleaning collection
cluttered about the kitchen sink?
why are you leaving ear swabs on
the bathroom counter with the trash can
so close.
no, make-up and perfume bottles are decorative
cottonballs and ear swabs belong
in jars, drawers, or garbage cans
what plan do you have for this?
i've no bunny suit which needs a tail
what does a man need cottonballs for anyway?
let me see your nails.
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i had the strangest dream i lived
by the water visiting friends all day long
until one by one we escaped through a
hole in the gate
to the estate sale which was really
just a yardsale
i was eyeing an old mechanical typewriter
and my interest drove another woman
to look over my shoulder and pant
in desperation, hoping i would ignore
the antique, and onto the desk for
an office cadre for organizing things
with boxes for pens and pads and keeping
all of my things for writing
i decided it was one thing i needed
for whatever reason i looked at
candles and flipped through a child's
soft fabric book, which was a kind of card
for mother for easter or some holiday
and then i saw a menorah and i was
going to buy this and as i looked at the
candle placings i woke up, forgot the dream
for a week and then had it come back to me in
pieces, like a patchwork quilt, or unwanted items
for sale at a yardsale

(this is obviously not a poem but it's a reflection on a dream i had)
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i want to have my cake and eat it too
and what is wrong with that?
whoever has a cake
with no intention of eating it?
i want to have my cake,
eat my cake,
and lick the knife too.
ice cream on the side please
but not touching the cake
or it will be soggy.
i will have my cake, eat my cake,
lick the knife, ice cream on the side!
*******************************************************

fingernails from both hands
pressed in the middle of her breastbone
scratching apart, across the chest
lines in a japanese garden of sand
feathers of a wren
**************************************
for everything there is a season
a wedding, a funeral, a time to laugh,
a time to cry, a time to laugh & cry at the same time
combining the seasons, winter and spring
throwing rice into the sky
birds crying on the walkway
feeling for a pearl
touching a matchbox car
in the dirt in the garden
green and unbroken
the great-great-great-granddaughter
of the dove from my mourning
in the small hands of a boy
*****************************************
malaise of a schitzophrenic

where was he? when i needed him.
everyone was at war then
i couldn't wait and said yes to
one who stepped in

where was he? the one i married
peace and prosperity bored him
he couldn't stay and said no
to evenings in

where was i? the one i trusted
to make good decisions for the both of me
biting nails when bells were ringing
at church and at the house

i would say it is better to be single
all the days of your life
for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer
'til death do us part.

(note: no the author is not schitzo, but it makes
for a better poem here)
*****************************************************
(not image but dream recollection)

my dream last night was that we found a very large apartment in a house and then another large area was discovered for someone else to rent and then i was suddenly at
some kind of boot camp carnival where everyone went from one activity to the other--
at one post we were in go-cart type cars, in another we took turns in the hot tub, and then everyone was tired going from one activity to the next and finally it was everyone to sleep in a huge tent. It was like one huge camp with a lot of physical activity.
*******************

this is all horrible. i feel like all my creative energy has been completely sapped. it's like i cannot write anymore and i have no idea why. i have never hit this long of a writer's block where everything coming out is mundane and not interesting at all.

i'm not drinking, i'm not taking anything different--just advil. even under a lot of stress i'm always able to write and think of crazy things and see, in the minds eye, interesting pictures or have thoughts which are imaginative. i feel absolutely sapped and blah. there's no known reason for it either.
********************************

alvaro wants to go back to wenatchee by tuesday and marry there, or in spokane, but i think it might be better to just marry here because i want an independent psych eval here first and i want to appeal stuff that needs to be appealed.

i don't regret anything i've said and i know what i think, about love and yet i have no idea what to believe. i have felt very inspired and happy by some things i think i've discovered, but i am honestly very confused about the best course of action right now. i'm very practical and mind-over-matter, but i am romantic and sentimental too. i think i'm burnt out. i think i must be, with being pregnant in pain, and then losing some people dear to me, then the whole miscarriage and assault was just another thing. 2 month fucking long miscarriage. or longer! and then making wild last minute plans with my fiance and meeting tons of people and going out when i have all these things to do and trying to figure out where to fly to, and when, and how and exactly the best way to save money and fight the state violations. and in the meantime i've lost all this time for filing things i wanted to file and haven't received any evidence i needed and i DO believe the clerk mailed me the CDs from court but where did they go??? it's odd, that i've not received ANY of my mail in the last many months.

i think i'm going on a limb. i really think, for the first time in my life, i actually think i'm "burnt out"! i am full of energy almost all the time, in good and bad times, and i can always laugh about things or write creatively and i'm just...not even tired. i feel washed out, not in the metaphorical sense though what other sense is there to that phrase. burnt out and washed out together present a confusing portrait. okay, burnt out and then washed out by a hose. i have so many things to think about i can't think straight anymore and it's not anxiety. it's just a boggled, baffling, feeling of not being able to sort things out in my head bc i've, well, i guess i should give myself a break bc i've been through a lot lately. so it's just a major energy drain. i can write but it's on automatic and there's just not this imagination in reserve.
*************************************************

skunk. skulls. black and white.
krill on the starboard, flag on a pole
spiraling down, a man to the first floor
holding up a certificate before the audience
receiving a medal for award
stars, stars, and more stars
stars in the sky, on the floor, in the side of the ship
on the flags, on the sleeve
i saw the stars on your sleeve
a black bear in the corner
tearing down a door
like the bear in milo & otis
pawing at the bureau
orange cat peering through the cracks
it's still snowing in march
showers rain night and day down the hall
hand through the door
one dirty, dirty, cop in black with a badge
doesn't use a gun to make his deals
uses his hands
barrel chested and broad, grin on his face
always slipping through the
grinder unharmed, undiscovered
manilla envelope with papers,
hands in his pockets
going out tonight,
someone has a baton that might
break his back
you wouldn't think it, but this cop
plays piano--black and white keys
************************************************

she's sniffing you out
picking up your scent
with her arms wrapped around your waist
nose on your neck
like a cat to milk
you forgot to wipe your mustache
left something in your coat pocket

me? i'm always finding black
ponytail holders in coat pockets
every secret lover in d.c.
must have black hair
so thick the band is always
breaking
*******************************************

my fiance just came home and said he's going to wear a t-shirt to our wedding, that says "i love my husband's laptop." he says, "with an apple" on the back of it. this, after looking at me in awe, wondering why i'm not asleep and saying, "for sure, i think you are cybernetic." then i said, "do you mean cybernatic?" and he said either one. then he said, "is bill gates in seattle?" and looked at me suspiciously, like that's why i want to go to washington. then he said something about it, do i want to live in the same town as bill. his eyes were wide open when he came in. he said, "you didn't sleep?" i glared at him, as he's sauntering in, with his hair nice, and looking good, and i'm thinking where was he on a saturday night? i found out, he says at least, he went out with his cousins and henry and this woman friend of henry's natalia. then a. says to me, joking, that henry said
to a. he approached me with the keys to the car and i just took them, not looking up
as i was typing away. so a. and i started laughing. then he brought me some rum,
at 3 or 4 in the morning and started laughing bc it was straight up and i was squinting each time i tried taking a small sip, so he's laughing and asked why and i told him, "the FUMES of this stuff!" i asked him what the hell, what percentage is it? he said forty and i said it had to be eighty. i said, "este tienes muchas alcool, es MUY FUERTE." and he laughed and then made fun of the way i held it in my mouth and swished it around. he said, "con vino" and imitated me. I said, "it tastes like a mouthwash, it's all alcohol." he sat down next to me and asked if i was okay and i said, watch out for the laptop. he said, laughing, oh no, it's not you i'm afraid of sitting on and hurting, but your laptop. so i finished the rum and told him i needed "diez minutos" and he said okay and joined the party outside the room. then i burst into tears. not saying why. but i cried and i haven't let myself cry for a long time and then he comes in and i'm saying, "necessito diez minutos" and he said okay and then cracks the door and i know he's wondering why he saw tears down my cheeks and why i'm saying "privadad!" whn he knows i have a fully PUBLIC blog. i don't know. i just prefer to write without someone over my shoulder.

i just cried because i'm worried about someone i know, and i haven't heard from them in awhile and i can't stop hoping everything is okay. i finally broke down. i don't understand. i don't understand anything.
1111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111333333333333333333333333333333333333

anyway, at least he's sounding intelligent again. it was like at first he was so smart and then all of a sudden, i'm dating the twin. now the other guy is back. part of the problem is my problem bc i don't know enough spanish. really like this song by lloyd cole, "brand new friend" words and music. it pisses me off though, like the "let's be friends" thing. but of course i don't know much. maybe i don't know everything i thought i knew and maybe i am thinking someone else is reaching. if someone is new, i am amenable to new friends, but if someone is old and known to me, i still don't get it. but anyway.

i'm sick of signs and wonders. i need the real thing. what is in front of me, a phone call or something. something tangible, not messages in music and singled out songs that aren't even playing when the radio is playing a different song. waht the hell is a normal person supposed to think? i'm not totally normal but i need somethnig normal.

"i will take care of you" by the bangles. i really like this. i think it's good i was brought a drink. i needed a drink. so i think my fiance figured this out and he just brought me something that's drinkable. it's not straight rum and has something in it. the other stuff was only a few sips. i told him, "good. maybe i'll sleep better." i cannot sleep for the life of me.

you know what is FUCKING biZARRE is the number of people i'm meeting with sectoral heterochromia all of a sudden. "toy soldiers" pisses me off right now. fuck you toy soldiers. i'll push you over with my little pinky you toy soldiers, marching over me in my sleep, like i'm that man who gets pinned down by the tiny people. what's the classic story? why isn't it coming to mind? i know beau blixseth knows because we talked about it once. darn, he's not on my instafriend instacall messenger system. i'm finding myself imaginative and hilarious once again and i think i have rum to thank for this delusion. okay boyzzzzzzzzzzz, whaddya want? a
matron to tie to the front of your ship? if you'll call her the "Cameo" i'll be your built in lounge singer. titanic hah! now we're all hearing "mental picture", and of COURSE i'm the mental patient picture. i will not be singing this one anytime soon in public. imagine the disastrous result with my enemies nodding approvingly, jabbing eachother in the sides.

i'm feeling better, tanks to rum. so...tell me...who the hell has control over lastfm. i'm thinking it's the frickin' prince of wales or something or one of those homeboys. you know what i think about will and henry? i think they did the hardest but the best thing in a way, by going military. where else are they going to feel halfway normal? i mean, they're part of a squad or team. and i know, from all the soldiers, how tight these bonds are. men who go to war together have to trust one another and they remember eachother for life. might be a little different for someone who is worried about being leaked to press or something, but still. i had sojme very nice english men say to me, don't you think they turned out well? and these were important english men and i've no idea why they thought my opinion mattered, but yes, i do think so. i have only watched one interview on youtube when they were adults, because i feel weird somehow, i don't know...watching them, like i'm peering in...it was more pronouncedk, this feeling, when i watched the footage with their mother. so darling. i adored the mother and sons footage of the speech lesson where the kids pipe up and then the footage where the whole family is having photos taken and will says "haywwwweeeee!" as charles sets harry on wills head and harry is this speed demon on the floor. i've never seen a toddler move so fast.

okay so i've had a drink, forgive me for my blabbering. maybe i'll erase tomorrow. but anyway, yeah! i do think they seem to have somehow turned out normal. i mean, considering! (i have now had my third very small gift of drink. and cps, don't you dare hold it against me! it was a gift i couldn't refuse. and, for your informationl, i've had nothing for...hmmm... a very long time. since the last colombian partyh at least!

you know, actually, some insights by me about the waleses or whatever kids, those boys, from that one piece of footage i saw, not only had a very sensitive and learned mother, who made sure they felt equal in every way, and whom she and charles loved equally, another proof of HER intelligence is right there in her own children.
clue 1. watch how henry moves as a baby, crawling. it may seem counter-intuitive, but usually the very active children are also bright intellectually. it's part of the whole developmental thing. motor skills that are advanced follow or coincide with advanced intellectual skills. but diana was too modest to ever make remarks about herself and her gifts. she knew she had a thing or two upstairs thought.

oh, and i say, evidence of diana's intelligence, because they SAY intelligence or I.Q. comes from, predominantly, la madre. seriously. scientists say this. and for credit to the father, scientists say this is derived from the father, charles.

so, clue 2. well, i only watched one family clip, because i felt like a voyeur watching more or even watching that much, but i was only able to see henry crawling so fast and then hear will and watch his sweet and responsible behavior towards his little brother in getting henry. diana knew exactly what she was doing, that wizard. she wasn't lazy in the least, when she asked will if he'd fetch his brother for her, she gave him the important position of helping not only his mother but his brother when at that very moment there was a focus on henry. she was brilliant. i do not blame others for noting what an asset she was and how wonderful she was with children. i like how the only footage i've really seen, of the boys, is this footage with them at the photo shoot and then at their joint adult address to the journalist, when henry was wearing the pink shirt (looked good) and will was ? wearing blue? i don't remember. but its very congruous. from that one small shot to the adult footage. how proud she must be. who says she can't see and doesn't know? ;)

i'm a little buzzed. ahem. not bad though, for me. i needed this. so hubby-a-be comes to bed with a flounce and flop and i still have half of my 3rd drink beside me. il am feeling a little more fluid. gracias a dios de alchoool.

hmmm, why did i start writing about will and henry? i don't know. i don't admire them from afar. i think of them, mmm...i guess like normal people whom i like for my affection of their mother and my understanding of what she was like. i never had an interest when she was alive. i had to go through my own trials and then identifhy and discover her and i think she's wonderful.

okay, i have to go...it's been treinty minutos, no diez. manana i am back. wow. i just confimred con mi fiance this is really only 40 percent. i had two drinks and i'm done i think, i will set this third drink down. hahhaaaaaaaaaaa. my finace is saying, sedcuctively, "my name is apple" "my name is viao" "my name compaq"..."sure". have to go .