Wednesday, May 31, 2017

he who is unable to live in society, or has no need because he is sufficient for himself, must be either a beast or a god.

aristotle, 
poetics. 
what i'm trying to say is i think your present discomfort may be self-induced. you simply cannot eat foreign objects. you know what i mean?

you get what i'm saying? why do you have that glazed expression? are you daydreaming again?

i know, i know. people always say it's for your own good when it's for their own good. but this really is. for your own good, i mean. 

i feel like you're really listening to me. like, i'm really getting through to you. so why do i have the sense it's going in one ear and out the other?
penny hunting jumping spiders.

spiders are so fun.

i just adore a penthouse view (with jumping spiders).

omg, they're just too cute.

omg, i just love my life.

p.s. i could be totally despondent and next moment just be watching the cats so earnest and cute palyful and i'm charmed by life again. thanks, you cats.


 
it's like if
the connection was severed,
when i was born
not only the umbilicus, 
but everything that went before
the umbilicus, 
a great fullness,
a blank,
a constellation of erasures,
scintillas,
 
 
floating in space. spaceplustime, 
not eternity, dogged
time, 
counting toward the next birth, my death, 
my birth plus weak will, and dogtime, drifted,
mundane, aerial,
or is that too pretentious.
i was talking to kelly and mister climbed up on her tractor to be with her.  
she felt his fur and remarked how soft and clean.  
my hair is gone right now, she said. 
i didn't mention this diary i do.  
i will when i see her again.  i feel a little shy 
about telling her story but i believe we have to 
trust ourselves and our intuition, like kids and dogs.  
and intuitively i know that telling our story is healing, 
as dogs and kids are healing. 
i have stage four breast cancer, type HER.  
i wanted to retire, in four more years.  
i said, that's not long, but she's not going there now, for now, for now 
she is here, and she will see, it seemed a short while before, now four 
years may seem a short lifetime.

kelly, you always smiled with us, we smiled at a distance, you made us smile, 
and we felt close, the smiles bridges.  
me and mister are glad you are here, 
keeping the parkland beautiful and smiling.  
we send you our abiding love.
goomorning r love, i be back soon.
oh my head. 
somewhere.
to lay my head.
where will my head go.
what will my head be.
what will i do.
when my head is dead.


i remember the joke stone
on the front yard 
with my gone space monkey fen
read i'll be back
and if i had a stone
that's what i'd like
my stone to say
oh, my head stone 
how many people have you almost known you wish you had known feel you have known might have known with a glance you will never know how i wish i had known her.
wait for me please i know you need to stay tuned to other things.
when you change and the changed you changes yet
you are still you
this mystery abides
what a life i lead
will i always be awkward and naive 
is there a beyond
beyond this life?

Tuesday, May 30, 2017

yeah. it feels like nothing can be done so why try. because we are here. should we just lay down and die. 
i got excited if a little skeptically when kumar said something was happening here, smart people of conscience were arriving, looking for a place to meet and bring the convened light on. my skeptic thought, on to what? loaves and fishes, another new utopia to perish in the wasteland? but no, i would have suspended my disbelief, but then he disappeared, and was put out of his apartment, and will not answer his device, and not that i held out my hope to be dashed, i did that so many times, it's in the abstract now, it really is now all passing show. we are the witnesses with bleary eyes of extinction.
it's scary
i feel this fraught feeling
is only me
sorrow turns bitter
i'm so nervous i can't pee
the numbers drop
like stars and the sky 
seals and moans
in my imagination
the little light
is orphaned 
again

                                          i am the king of the inland sea of make believe.
 oh god, i'm tired, and my heart, is broken.
it's so hard, to feel so, all alone, and so far,
so far away from home, and you, my ma.

 oh god, i'm so lost, 
and out here in darkness,
and i want to see the light of love,
for making, for me my life,
and you, my ma.


girls,
my ma.



(much of it, the tone poem we seem born into, is born into us, by popular song, by songs
we heard when we were pained and growing, and the song told us the phrase that lingers, your heart is breaking, when it isn't, it's just feeling, sorrowing, the hard breaks, how it seems, they want to break you, and you listen to the songs, over and over, in your mind, you break your own, you break it down, and keep coming on, and it keeps on coming, coming on, the breaking inevitable, endless, your music, like waves). 



 
we make.
clouds 
follow us.

we make clouds,
follow us. 

we make clouds follow us.
i see the colors, but this darkness abides in me. so, i might feel
a dark abode. 
i was talking today with sweep-a-leg johnny
by the model yacht pond,
the dogs cruising like boats with eyes
behind us.
we talked as we do
about integration
and how to live with terror and money 
and can socialism abide
in the capital heartland,
and of course it still can, i say johnny-
it's up to you and me,
not theory.
it happened before us
and for us it's happening now.
we just 
have to live it
and abide this darkness
without.  
what if the tenor
is heartbreak. 
what if the ghosts
of love
are infinite
and waiting
in mines
for our feet 
to fall.
what mines
may catch us
hapless
diarists
of the fall.  
what is abiding
spirit
what is spirit
abiding 
          feels like i been down this road before. can there be any comfort there, señor?
last night. i got up, wrote down. so tired i can't sleep, can't read. thinking i don't want to darken anybody else's life. may be necessarily alone.
it's funny to think of mr. memory as a dog.  
and why, when gradually the dog occupies 
more and more of me? yes, funny and true, 
ultimately i may be fully occupied by mr. memory, 
swimming in my brief time, blissful, 
in a vast intimate lake, 
the memory of every human dissolved.

Monday, May 29, 2017

i think it may be best not to have any expectations, though that may be impossible, to let the other one be, with all their faults, and strengths. live with them like we must. like we live with ourselves.
a pair of you



me and crosby. 

we have not seen this boy since forever it seems last summer and now it feels like real summer though my body's like a just woke hibernating hairless bear. i had to ask his dad's name to introduce r. though i know him so well just from this place in summer moments. he's a sweet man, a manly but soft man, a builder of luxury homes in a dead market with kids in med school, one done, disillusioned by now. crosby's neurotic, he says. if they leave him he starts in eating his own leg. ay, me. maybe i shouldn't be saying all this stuff. 
oh, well as they say, he has good intentions,that's what they all say, 
and  we're all rather sweet and neurotic i guess, so coming to this stone water circle helps assuage our worried gnashing minds. 
so if you know marco tell him you saw this as i forgot to but maybe he has esp.
 
mister memory 
remembers
as water
remembers
mister
and 
the art of memory
is in play 
bicycle. 
memory.
a dream of a ride 
in waves.
when the roar of the drive was silenced,
was it yesterday? already 
memorial.
sculpted.
pads and barnacles
and feathery handed feet.
notions,
circling. 

last night i dreamed
my new hand-me-down bike
was waiting 
by the door 
on mister's porch,
and i live hopefully
loving my hopeful old bike 
even more
faithful.   


my favored ones favor each and every one together.
and it is heartbreaking to know deep down,
it is a sham, that humans have failed,
a deep down shame that 
humanism has failed humans.
it's not that we keep getting fooled it's that
we keep trying
to fool ourselves.
with hope,
with fondest hope,
hopefully. 
some time ago 
god willing 
was replaced
by hopefully.

in the absence of 
god we have absence
hopefully.

now and 
again
we find us 
ourselves 
hopefully addicted
to a progression
of absence.

hopefully cuz
we're not so sure. 





the future is blank. we can write anything 
   we want.
why put up with evil imbeciles, why
adapt to them, if we can do
away with them all together?
two birds starting with the letter k.
hey copp! i just dreamed a fantastic bird 
that danced and lit up in all different glowing and pulsing colors 
for my camera!

hmm... people's dreams are so interesting
aren't they?  
oh, you know, birds, they're ok, 
you know. 
it's birders i really like.
in certain cases, real deprivation occurs while a parent is alive. 
the permanent deprivation conferred by death 
may seem then a liberation: it is
the late-arriving explanation 
or justification for absence.

by extension, in providing a cause 
for what has long been lacked, it releases 
the child from a sense of culpability.
finally, the outside matches the inside. 

signals that the truth is not to be
demanded, nor established deceits 
queried, give rise to feelings
of extreme precariousness or danger.

cataclysmic disappearance has been replaced 
by perpetual absence, 
an even replaced by a mood.
loss is the routine condition now.


louise glück,
estrangement.