Poetry.
Poetry.
Poe tree.
Poet Tree.
Let the feelings blow through my leaves.
Sounding rustles as our breath heaves
Weightless thoughts
Sinking into 1000 pounds of withheld tears.
Let the branches embrace the air,
the sky, the souls the green and the blues.
Emptiness becomes nothing
Sewed into universe's blanket
Let the roots tap into the struggle
Glinting unwavering eyes
Searing through lies
Smoothing greed's ugly wrinkle
a shackle on our ankle
Let me be that tree.
Let me beat in that tree.
Let me be, to beat in the rhythm that be, but a tree.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Tired of being afraid
I'm tired of being afraid of things that don't even exist. if only i could control my imaginations, and wear possibility colored shoes and fearless shaped socks, i could dance the beauty that is now, and not lie pathetically on the sofa of fear of unknowns. here's a short story of what i mean.
Last night an ant came into my ear.
She asked "May i enter your ear?"
I said "I guess..."
I could not deny entry as i'm not adverse to sharing. if i have space that will fulfill your needs then please occupy, encamp and unload your burden. My humble frame is but a brick to sculpt pills that heal.
The ant waltzed his way forward, time moving in thirds, until she reached four stumps. She rested her bag of sadness on the first stump. She placed a loaf of bread on the second. Then she carefully brushed the pink surface of the third stump with one of her feet while using another to wipe away the pungent yet strangely agreeable ear wax with ant sized tissue. She pulled a dandelion pillow out of her bag, fluffed it rhythmically and then tossed it upon the fourth stump. Then she lay her arm on top of her pillow and then she crowned the pillow with her head.
That night was already a weird night, the kind where the silence of the night collides with the city's snores, creating a feathery current that tickles your core. In that uneasy sleep, I woke up to the hushed vibrations the ant's snoring caused. Her inaudible voice sending sounds to my brain directly. It yanked me in and out of sleep until the morning came and i found bits and pieces of the forgotten night memories lodged into my finger's prints. Her carcass but a crude reminder of my uncertainty in myself.
That morning my semi-psychic friend told me to worry about a girl named Amber, her dream foretelling of an unfortunate outcome.
I don't really understand what's going on. And i feel like i'm uneasily balancing on two swively chairs while my hand frisks a cabinet my eyes cannot reach, feeling out for something lacking, but unsure of its texture as it runs amuck while my feet tremble to stay afloat.
Last night an ant came into my ear.
She asked "May i enter your ear?"
I said "I guess..."
I could not deny entry as i'm not adverse to sharing. if i have space that will fulfill your needs then please occupy, encamp and unload your burden. My humble frame is but a brick to sculpt pills that heal.
The ant waltzed his way forward, time moving in thirds, until she reached four stumps. She rested her bag of sadness on the first stump. She placed a loaf of bread on the second. Then she carefully brushed the pink surface of the third stump with one of her feet while using another to wipe away the pungent yet strangely agreeable ear wax with ant sized tissue. She pulled a dandelion pillow out of her bag, fluffed it rhythmically and then tossed it upon the fourth stump. Then she lay her arm on top of her pillow and then she crowned the pillow with her head.
That night was already a weird night, the kind where the silence of the night collides with the city's snores, creating a feathery current that tickles your core. In that uneasy sleep, I woke up to the hushed vibrations the ant's snoring caused. Her inaudible voice sending sounds to my brain directly. It yanked me in and out of sleep until the morning came and i found bits and pieces of the forgotten night memories lodged into my finger's prints. Her carcass but a crude reminder of my uncertainty in myself.
That morning my semi-psychic friend told me to worry about a girl named Amber, her dream foretelling of an unfortunate outcome.
I don't really understand what's going on. And i feel like i'm uneasily balancing on two swively chairs while my hand frisks a cabinet my eyes cannot reach, feeling out for something lacking, but unsure of its texture as it runs amuck while my feet tremble to stay afloat.
Blog Blast
right when you thought it was over! it's the sunday blog blast you all~
i've been at a lost as of what to write about for a while. but when i allow myself to bathe in that which keeps me smiling ideas start flowing. i think i've been trying re-figure out who i am and i've kind of been at a loss. but i think i'll stop looking and start being.
i've been at a lost as of what to write about for a while. but when i allow myself to bathe in that which keeps me smiling ideas start flowing. i think i've been trying re-figure out who i am and i've kind of been at a loss. but i think i'll stop looking and start being.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Los Angeleeeeeeessss
I'm here. I'm back. I'm happy and i think i might have received the most awesome hug of my life yesterday.
not that i wasn't happy before. i'm-a-always going to be happy, and even if sometimes i ain't, i'm gonna grab my leaf blower and blow that un-happiness away to my neighbor's lawn as if it was the autumn leaves that blanket the earth like a seasonal task. un-happiness, NIMBY is all i got to say to you.
but yeeees! i'm excited. i know inside them next six months different ian's are lurking and smirking waiting for the current ian to come upon them, interact, fight, love and transcend. as an organizer in training at the LCSC/BRU i think for the first time in my life i will be challenged to the point of doubting myself. i'll probably meet parts of myself that i don't want to see and don't want to be seen. i'll find buttons i never pushed and if i had known about them i would have been pushing it like the tempo on a sultry dance floor.
i think i still don't understand the full extent of what LA means for me and what it can and will mean to me. but i do know that i love the people here. just the hugs i've received from people are enough to make me know that i embrace this place, and this place has embraced me in it's own raw way. this place has mad love to offer and all i want to do is soak it all in, left and right, until i become all soggy and bloated. but really, it's all good cause i'll just lay in the LA sun until i'm all fresh and spongy again to start it all over. love is what moves me and all i want to do is wake up with love in my eyes, receive all the love that people whisper to each other like weak signals of an overloaded wireless thingamjig.
so if you see me better watch out cause i'm gonna go all blue tooth on ya love.
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