images

yellow orange cat in young arms
her hair blowing back
there is one of me holding a tabby too
daddy said i looked like Alfred E. Neuman
it's true, in that photo, i look like him
with a very thick blunt fringe of bangs
and freckles and the same silly smile
cat's jumping out of someone's arms
after the fish in the frying pan

basketball and baskets of christmas ham
walking through snow in small boots
westminster chapel for a prayer on knees
it began snowing lucky pennies that day
in the spring they were copper flowers on trees
summertime brought barrels of copper fruit
fall was the only time coins were replaced by leaves

(really like bruce springsteen's "atlantic city"...very cool song. makes me think.)
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bijou bleu
loose sapphires on the velvet
teardrop shaped and an eyepiece for viewing
africa doesn't have sapphires do they?
i thought diamonds, but where do sapphires come from?
one book for gemenology and the other for genealogy
it's dark in the private museum
forgot what time it was
curtains all around and sunlight just outside
absolute black room with a white light for
finding flaws and assessing the worth
a butterfly broach, a birthing of friendship
seeing the same two hands from distant lands
past times, and looking on those two
were skies of grey, skies of blue
le bouchon, le boucheron, je adore
clarity of vision for the future
mirror on a stand, white roses in a vase
outside the world was moving, flashing ass
"lightening crashes", by live running through my mind
i wasn't there but the woman is still alive
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how to make a cake that doesn't sink in the middle
slouch on the side, or burn at the bottom
how to carefully cover all the layers so no knows
what kind of thing it is you've tried to patch with frosting
i don't believe the cake feels any pain
then again, who knows. here's to champagne
here's to a masquerade, and here's to uma thurman breaking out
of an unmarked grave
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he won't pick the feathers off of the bird
just out in the tall grass for the hunt
popping out with a clutch of white and yellow daisies
i see my son in this hand
playing peek-a-boo with me around the corner and running
with delight, laughter after him like the cat, and
we caught up. brought him high and around above our heads

someone believes everything i say
another doesn't believe very much
one thinks they can manufacture this to mean one thing
or make it fit what they see and what is "safest"
for everybody.

i will not be pushed, pulled, pressured and forced
to anything great. my greatest thing will come from me
hailing back like a boomerang to those who mistrust
or misjudge me. a trap has springs and i use these for
making my trampoline. i am never cornerned, never surrendured,
blowing out with backfire.

no one is trying to "help me" more than themselves
or more than they are trying to save their reputations or those of friends
picking my battles is supposed to mean i pick the one
that has nothing to do with the greater picture
overarching conspiracy between law enforcement and people who didn't
want to be sued by me.

promising, promising, and hoping i will find something
if i am squeezed.

you just don't fucking squeeze me. you don't even try, because when you do,
you will find martyrs who were once willing to die just to die, are willing to die for me. funny how the light is streaming through the window and onto the bed in stripes while i've been made to see stars, falsely.

for everything there is a season, and there is nothing i need that i don't have already, except money. this is the only thing that i have had used against me and the only reason i have ever been on unequal footing. i have confidence, and my confidence is in me.

Not you, or you, or you, when you show me nothing after empty promises of liberty--my faith and hope is in me. I did what i needed to do, and there are others who see it. no one thinks there is anything "wrong" with me except those who want something to be.

plucking the feather off of the wing myself,
i put the feather in my cap
and sue whom i need to sue whether it be the catholic church
or yankee doodle dandy.
my daisies are before me, in a field of flowers
i have no need for a vase
anymore than i need a carrying case for my brain.
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i wrote the above images, most of them until the one about the tide, thinking about my friend who used to be married to some guy from england and she told me he forced her to clean all day when she was already clean or whatever. she had to hide everything, even her food, because he didn't want her to gain weight. it was a weird situation. not something i can relate to at all, as a. is totally different. but i wrote some of the above images thinking about her and what she expressed to me and she was working at a bakery at that time, in eugene, oregon. anyway, now she's a flamenco dancer. lol. but she came to mind today. as for the last poem, that was written from the perspective of my catholic friend who was assaulted and took a case to court and i believe they won, but she told me she and her sisters were abused. anyway
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butterflies and hurricane's by "muse" is very good but it's a frightening song too, no? i'm glad this one wasn't playing when i woke up this morning, from that dream. i really like "do you remember the first time?" by pulp. every me and every you by placebo.****************going to get the phone/something alone. diamond hoo ha man by supergrass. i like death cab for cutie "follow you into the dark." really good writing. "transformers" more than meets the eye?? wow. and today i saw a VW bug that was yellow just like one an old friend of mine used to drive a long time ago. I like "again and again" by keane.

grey goose for you and i will have this beer for now
lucid now, elucidate for me what it means
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green crocodile or alligator skin bag
she looks so lovely hailing a taxi
walking away in her boots
mama mia mi amore esta mine ahora, muchas gracias
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i love you, i do

i know how the sound is changed
i still recognized and thought it was such a good friend to do that for him
but the cadence cannot be mimicked there was a bird that may have flown away
if there is a way under the willow tree, where the canopy will hide me
i'll wait. i'll go, if there is such a place.
clicking out tone down an octave and something else other
voice on synchronizer and i began to get hungry again
ate my hamburger sitting there
heard a crack on the waterfall when it had to be said
river. heard someone crying but maybe not for me?
the river rather? so many bees by my brain, that hornest's nest.
diving right into the hornets nest
you want to be stung and i will slap your backside happily
if you slap mine. i will go in if you step out first.
into the winter wonderland
i'll say...extra ordinary thing by an aqualung
this thing, and you. more than you know,
special. and to me, though i hate you so. i need you to never
ever ever forget me. want to see you.
i would almost convert to anything for you
as i'm suing you at the same time
i'm a libra and i take the scales of balance
very,
VERY,
seriously
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someone told me to perhaps call the red cross,
yesterday, to have a psych evaluation done independently
i said, "do they DO that?" i had never heard of such a thing


(ocean colour scene's "profit in peace" is beautiful, gorgeous and made me start to cry). editor's "every little piece of your life" played right after i saw a flash of a picture of myself of all things, and i sort of didn't want to see it. like "you're beautiful" by james blunt. brings back a lot of memories, but sad ending.

anyway, i think i'll write the image i saw of myself. i was actually all on my own but i was on a stage or in front of a lot of people and it wasn't singing. or acting or anything, i don't think. i myself talking to people from all over the world. anyway, it wasn't a glamorous thing at all. it was about peace and was inspiring for everyone and the taliban and mexican and other war sides, even irish, were listening to me. I have no idea really, i just saw myself there for one moment and then it was gone, and i didn't hear anything i said but anyway, it was strange. and then i just started to cry and couldn't stop crying. i don't know what it is, but there is still something ahead for me and i don't know why me but i saw it and felt it. i have absolutely zero idea though, what it was for more specifically. and then, of all things, I saw a bunch of people cheering for me. like, seriously cheering. maybe not for me but what i'd said? i have no idea. probably had too much beer. hahaha.

but the only way anyone would listen to me about that, would be if i forgave everyone for everything they've done, and some horrid things have been done. and the thing is, i was the forgive and forget TYPE until i got sick of it and honed my thinker side and realized justice is just as important, or more important, for keeping rule and order esp. when people are taking advantage and bullying and actually going after you and your son and your reputation as well. and people from different countries have legitimate complaints against other people from other countries, but it's the same struggle of knowing when it's important to fight, because it's necessary for peace, or to let it go knowing THEY know and that a lot of people know what an enormous sacrifice it is and knowing they know the magnitude of harm and damages done. i understand the complexities. even if my own family doesn't know and most people cannot even comprehend that's it's possible what has been done to me and my son, at every level i've discussed.


(i like kaiser chiefs "always happens like that". makes me feel at home with the music homies. i know how it happens and love to hear others talk about it. like watching that hans and gretel piano, guitar, and voice harmonies. like the killers so much "when you were young". i like "feel" by robbie williams)
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i have worried and thought, for some time,
that someone i know is diagnosed to die
it's not someone's relative, although that may
be true as well, there is someone i know
directly, who has known for at least a year or
more, that they are diagnosed with something
which would typically mean death
i've heard songs about death lately, but still
i have thought this, before i heard any music
about it. and i wrote an image, and wrote
"you are not going to die"
for some reason, that person has not informed
me or most everyone else either, about this.
i need to touch that person.

i heard this from someone in birch bay and then
in d.c. and thought it about this person in d.c.
and that's why they were living recklessly, bc
there wasn't a very good reason to preserve oneself
if one were going to "die anyway" and couldn't "feel"
because they are emotionally numb.

it makes me think about my father telling me, my
father who tends to be pragmatic and logical,
"you are going to heal people. you are going to raise people from the dead."

i remember looking at him. he didn't mean, from anger. I
said, "Huh? what do you mean?" because my Dad does NOT say things like this
and he was trying not to cry. I thought he'd read one of my journals
or something I'd written, because I had gone to to church one day and a
woman prayed for me and she said the exact same thing. This wasn't a common thing to say and it was a totally different church than the one my Dad went to. But this woman started to cry and said she saw me healing people.

Then she added, even raising people from the dead. I'm sure she meant figuratively or emotionally. And then, she had other people come over to pray for me and they said the exact same thing and started crying, and they had not heard what SHE had said, the first woman. None of these people, or my father, ever knew about the times I knew someone had been healed, but I didn't personally "heal" them. I just "knew" it was going to happen. and that was for physical stuff.

Bloc Party's "I still remember" is very good. tangent. i don't know why i was writing this last stuff in stanzas. I was probably hoping it would develop into a poem but there was no rhyme so i said, bag it.

So anyway, the women praying for me didn't know me at ALL. And they said this and I thought it was so weird I wrote it down and then I had it only at my apartment and my father wasn't there and didn't have a key or anything and later he independently said the exact same thing, out of the blue, and said he had this very strong impression from God this was true. I don't remember exactly. But there was no real basis for him to say this but he believed it and told me.

I cannot think of even ONE person who has ever been "healed" after being around me or bc of my prayers or touch or anything. I think I've saved a life or two, and know i have, and then i've known, without trying hard to get this "answer", that someone is going to be healed, 100%, and then it did happen. But that's about it. Oh, and my own arm was "healed" and I knew it would be. But that's all.
(this isn't a poem but i wrote it in stanzas for some reason).
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simple things
at the dollar store
mylar balloons for my baby
acid free means nothing for
nostrils smoking with burning pages
books of Jasper, King, Shelly, & Keats
painting of a leopard above the white couch
two women, one in scarlet and the other in white with a pink rose
several centuries past tied together with a maternal string
it's not my wall and i would like more modern art

perfect dive into a shallow side
she broke her neck, and i thought about joni mitchell
when i read her story as a young girl--how it would be
to live in a wheelchair
seeing sade freely pluck a ruby from the tree
how it must be to feel so dependent for every little thing

i saw four cars in a line with 3 women driving each one
hiding their faces, and a silver four ring car OOOO with the
driver missing. a man in the white van not far away.
"turn around!" i said and knew. explained it, in part, to
someone who is part of another game.
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thoughts about a conversation i had. someone who knows me called and he's known me for years but not quite as long as some of my other friends. thinks maybe it's not so bad if "something" is wrong with me mentally. said a "splinter". said something small. i had already said that to everyone, years ago and they wanted to deny it. I said I thought I had some PTSD from what the Abbey people and their lawyers did to me. When it looked like I might be able to use this as an action, proof of damages, suddenly everyone was arguing I was JUST FINE! They pointed to everything they could think of, to prove "just fine!"

I have been this way, and a writer, pretty much my entire life it's only that when I was younger, I consciously and purposely adhered to protocol. Then I got SICK of it and chose not to. What people don't understand, is that my decision to become an activist type was my choice, not some bizarre haywiring-gone-wrong with "stress" or whatever. I have had anxiety when anyone would and where appropriate, but nothing more.