my other brother blog from another mothers blog...blog.

lookinme.blogspot.com

this is my other, older, first blog. god i hate the word "blog". but maybe some of the older posts in it will be worth your time. thank you for reading this.

here's time toward bright

you'll be laughing at the sun
one morning when train whistles
blow the moon down behind
the mountains shivering over
there

your horoscope says you've got it
made today, hooray! well, i've got
other news, your shoes
untied, and your watch quit telling
time

everyone you see is a potential
ghost, you'll see, sometimes buried
in books, or walking beside you
hands held way up-
ward

leaves all over one day blow
sofa colors whirl and through you
walk collapse in the grass, ghostlike
go into work, blushing, eyes
bright

Pyrrhic victory

there it is. pyrrhic victory. to have fought well and won, yet to have lost more than was worth your efforts.
:is a victory with devastating cost to the victor. The phrase is an allusion to King Pyrrhus of Epirus, whose army suffered irreplaceable casualties in defeating the Romans at Heraclea in 280 BC and Asculum in 279 BC during the Pyrrhic War. (Dictionary.com)

yay!

new words

oh, to be a poet again
write what the heart remembers

after seven years somehow
returned to me out of time
you're so different, no longer mine
yet there's still an unhealed sore
in the layer of my heart
where you inhabited that great
cluttered room

and i feel entitled to posses
you there again, but i'm not
maybe we were wrong
these last seven years, wrong
to have departed, but we weren't
and that's how the heart mis-
remembers

over and over convincing me
that i guess, yeah, i do
feel actually and i can no longer
deny my lost loves' lasting
impact


oh, to be a poet of forgetfulness again. if you do something well, do it so that it inspires you by your success at it, enables you to continue. i think that's what my friends have done that i wasn't sure about how to do. so many things got in the way. maybe this is how i can remove those obstacles. maybe.

locality of digression

locality of digression
8.7.08

the day passes away beneath us
hands malfunction slower circles
of mimic, was all we were
ever in this for was to show one
another what we are incapable of

love, we, lovely depart along
separate courses bound in
the night for other destinations
taste you on my teeth, mouth
aches with syllables spoken

ashen. sight out of crystal lifting
i know my future yet it, somehow,
doesn’t know me squeezes scent
doses out trajectory vector after
vector. rain, song, sun

live your way into your answers
your questions are pointless
otherwise, augment your life
with unknown languages prayers
to unnamed deities. let them
decide

decide hollow speech follows us

some things friends go
burdening beyond our
pinpluck horizons
events which will decide
us

a whisperwish shallow
water dream awake into
our naked bodies pressed
between pages hollow of
us

furnish night with scenery
bright as overpass rain
flickers in our voices find
some fragile line to speak in
us

where we go in sleep
determines our horoscope
offerings of potpourri
wings which can only follow
us

tim

friend i will be
with you there
so soon

new york!
a money/dirty
place i'll make

your friends
love me, you
love me

step up to
you, replace you
in the streets

i want to
hold you
tonight, you?

moderate deafining alliances

been days baby
uneven days
since we watched
grass grow picked
ourselves up out of
it. our bellies grow

friend on our fleeting
bodies, a place we call
home knee deep in
the blood of us. i miss
our kisses, our pain

the dishonor of suicide
escapes my midnights
but i weep to call you
to me instead, daffodil
whiskey wishes on dandelion
tufts you taught me

so much. who i thought i was
girl kiss him silent
tonight. then, in the morning
forget your regrets as
i do.

untitled

geese, gluttonous
for warmth go
flying, honk over-
head rewind
winter

malheureux

sick in a strange land
where flags don't flap
though there's cold wind
at the windows
and my fever is slight
enough to chill me to
sleep

warm empty bed at home
where i wish
that even a stranger
sexy, would come lay
tonight while i'm away

her

the moments between
when you are dressed
and undressed before
me collide, pink, lace

skinperfect, you glide
bite your bottom
lip, beckon and bring
me tingly to your

hip-cups 'valleys'
ignite tongue to
your thighs vistas
your eyes miles

away, love your
eyes molten inside
spine curved in
the cups of my hands

territory i enter
and leave, mapbook
in hand charts
your topography

rise and fall of your
chest as you sleep
my fingertips miss
you, my dreams are

suchdeep pools you
fall into

milkyway (?)

how many consecutive heart-
beats lead to a full life peppered
with all failures, wisdom

what triad of experience lets
us see inside-out the whole
pinpointillstic life diagram

latent layers of dreams
in us collide with timewords
new worlds born in us

let loose what you love
and its wings being light
might return you tidelike

dash. dot. dash. DASH!

cheers!
here's to losing hope:
we'll probably never
be together...fuck time!

"but time always fucks
you." true. but can't i wish
otherwise, i might have to
wait for heartbreak

so, connections don't have to,
can't, last over distance?
maybe i shouldn't have thrown
that penny into that pool

should have known i'd
find it wet in my pocket
later. cheers! to putting
the fun back in futility!

the tricky past

smoking martinis

living slowly into sleep

this day a notending

everbatllement reading le fue

i fall asleep over and

over here waiting for planes

so many to take me ocean-

ward. over board walk the plank-

ton, yes, silly. i'm seeing your face

improvised in my curtains,

the small sliver of moon

that i nearly pointed out to

a boy waiting for the bus,

as i wait for your lips

lipelula.

NYT sunday crossword puzzle

the whole mythology of
the whole universe
transposed over

a dirty old man's advice
of how to get in
a girls panties: black

berry brandy and
black cherry coke...
2

poor old woman

the sun is dying!
our octogenarian earth, parched
cries out for allegiance

echelon feeders in the wide
ocean, flurry fish
grow sparse like landscape

tiny histories morse in
our minds blips, arias
telephone manifestos...

saints to save us
wake to the patron of
flying creatures

the sky is falling(?)!!
a spy satellite you can
hear on reentry

a makeup

3.7.04
i never know
how the. the i gets
in the way
of the you.

do you?
see the relay
the devotional.
listens.

belief. the things
you see.
before you come
stars. lightening.
to me

looking down
behind me
i. below fear.
trust me

i don't like this poem, sorry.

hello world, had something
to say to you last night,
forgot, but what's with all
the telegrams?

try not to remember this,
as tough as it may be, last
nights dream was still
a dream

which drops off now in today
drops me from high off
into laughter and joy

sun inside

my little room, whitening
here in the morning sun
without us

your bodyghost in time
goes through my heart
without words for us
without inscape
apperception

love, where in me
have you burrowed
in what array will i
find your siren song

my little room warming
like a cat in a sun
fragment inside me

a song for tim tolka

some cant help but keep
those they love
furthest from them
but there is a beach
in this world where
a boy cries alone

wishing for a her, sometime
they were and reminisces
like a bomb far off, memory
begets sadness like the bible
begets begets, like breath
begets life begets love
begets heartbreak

on a beach, tim, your heart
is an open joybringing believer
and you are its only victim

so shine, then be smiling
there in the world which
cuts us into shapes we
no longer recognize, sunlight
the whole of you littered
with foolish awarenesses

shed past shadows like old
bread given to birds on
a pier, be woken by your wounds
bonds, be catching the next
train to another language to
hope to get it right

your life is a book i'd love
to read, your song: a ballad
i wish i could sing, this mess
of us: our strobelight lives:
acid to the honorable mind
of our creator!

free letter from ago

i just found this gem waiting in my computer. i wrote it on 6.24.03. i guess it was some sort of letter. i like it. some of it i don't, but wow, what was i on back then? :)

I think my mind is dripping, sickening me. It is June and warm outside but the dark air keeps swirling out bits of white that I double-take at: SNOW?! and beyond this city, you’re out there smiling right now I’m sure. people sometimes move like taxis, like racoons along sidewalks, I spy them from my car slipping out of sight, cottonwood fluff.
The way the dreary angels form tonight’s sky might be the pattern of arrangement I’m organizing you into. down the kernels, and then corridors, my language is diseasing me, disrupting my other breath. this pattern is unsettable, unstable, I can’t seem to stack you no matter what city you’re in, though I miss you. sharks are not clingy or unpalatable. dipped in butter and cooled on paper towels, I can’t fry you any longer, I can’t fry me-patrol my shores: borders.
I can’t remember one absolute number. I can play anything using the infinite scale. I knew your doorstep like Jamaica. I could walk in whenever, often you were there, sometimes not. I’ve heard that things end beyond letters: writing them, making up alphabets with them. alpha-bets alpha-bets. I’m never gonna see you again. I’ve quit seeing solely beyond my own illusions. I’m slipping away, my tide is out out out.
I found some pictures today of the mountain I used to work on wishing for love. I’ve loved twice since then. I want to knock on your door again for the first time and do it again and again because back then I was writing. My phone rings all the time now with your voice and I’ve learned tons about astrology and friendship. I capitalize my I’s now. i hate it.
I had a dream of a ghost. I keep seeing the little black boy from my dream. everyone’s faces look like him. but I never saw his face, he was walking away from me. I want to talk about it, like how we talked immediately about your dream of the love poem from me tacked on the wall in some hallway with your name written on it in red. If I say “long sentence”. what do you think first. This is just a gauge of health.
Some graves can be slept in all night like the tower of technology that I plow down in my mind with every keystroke. All I have to do is throw out my wrist and steal quotes off urinal walls. Call me again. I’ll try to write you some more prose littered-trashed with pronouns. try to believe.
Love, me.

cold out. :self illo motto w/ k.k.

snowed all night
the streets slick, trees
heavy with it, eyelids
too but up to coffee
permeating my tiny
room, scent-silence

the pitfalls of the future
just a quirky forever
pull at present, frost
at the panes, smoke
at the flues

mars dances this month
with the grapefruit moon,
dangles its red right there
colored salt so you can
see it in yr eggs

wanna go to england
italy euro currency
language mosaic
cobblestone alleys too
narrow for sunlight

tonight...holy fuck

my eyes look green tonight
got grabbed by the neck by a cop
some drunk chick said i look like a super model
past-due stamp on my wrist like i have a real job

it was foggy earlier, made me think my vision was off
the sky played crazy tricks on my brown eyes
i keep thinking about a plane ride, what i will write then
i was some kind of pseudo hero in the bar tonight

this is saturday. this is the first moment of the rest of your life
boy. okay. well, i'm a hundred dollars poorer and i am in love
maybe with an apparition, but i think
not.

enjoys solitude

believe
your soul
exists

everything happens
has for
a reason that
things mean
something

then there is
no betrayal no
allegiance no
need for that
which is not
You

book list # 1: jan. 2008

i decided to post a list of books that i really like. so every month i will post a list. i will arrange them by country (for the most part), and post one book for each country i choose. the countries may vary, but i hope you read some of these and let me know what you thought of them. thanks, -t.

UK: Written on the Body, Jeanette Winterson

Japan: A Personal Matter, Kenzaburo Oe

US: Gravity's Rainbow,Thomas Pynchon (not as much a recommendation as a dare :)

Germany: The Glass Bead Game, Hermann Hesse

Russia: We, Yevgeny Zamyatin

France: Literature and Existentialism, Sartre

Argentina: Ficciones, Jorge Luis Borges

Czech: Immortality, Milan Kundera

Italy: If on a Winter's Night a Traveler, Italo Calvino

Ireland: Dubliners, James Joyce

i hope you enjoy these if you read any of them. i consider some of them quite indispensable. others, merely impossible.

a prayer

make a list...ten things you want to be or do before you die. treat it like you just found out you have cancer. make a list of the ten most important things to you. 10.

1. love. every aspect of love in all it's heart rending, confusion causing, god in my chest, love! everything about it. i want love. love that is without object, yet embodied. love that lasts and that i'll never take for granted.

2. wisdom. i want to know the difference between what i think i know and what actually is in the heart of what i call god. i want my decisions to have the weight of my past lives years in them. wisdom, the ability to distinguish the truth of this moment from the "truth" in my head or the "facts" at hand.

3. humility. i want to know how little i know without being discouraged by it. i want to look in the mirror and be at ease with my flaws. slip out from under my vanity. humility, to realize how very little i matter if i only matter to me.

4. enlightenment. yes, a big one. no, not impossible. i already am, so says buddha. but...my eyes open so slowly to this fact that i wonder and wonder. i bet if i didn't wonder i would see through seeing and touch the heart of existence. may this be for all of us.

5. travel. to see this perfect, and sometimes terribly marred, earth. to breathe it in and breathe out my love (as a friend wrote in a poem). to pick up the pints and ploughs of the reaches of this planet. ah, to inhale the scents of lands i've never seen. to carry home in my pocket, and my heart on my sleeve. this must happen.

6. writing. i want to write something that i think is worthy of further inspection, publication. i want to explore my mind fully enough that my ideas are not just bursts of inspiration. to remain inspired. i think love might be holding hands with this one.

7. freedom from addiction. this seems so damn serious. and i suppose this one really is. i could be so much more. i could much more easily achieve some of these "goals" if i weren't addicted to substances. this also must happen by a strengthening of my will. and it will!

8. health. since i was quite young, i've said to myself: may i never be unable to do whatever i want to do because i just physically can't. so far, for the most part, i've been true to that dream. i know that youth doesn't last forever and i want to be healthy as i age. this is something i have confidence in, and i am proud of my health. but i must never let this fall aside.

9. to teach. i've found that i have a knack for teaching. things that i do well, i tend to be able to teach well. i want this to go further, for people to be able to learn great and interesting things from me. i want to inspire people to help each other know things.

10. peace. this world has been so violent to itself for so long. in my lifetime i would love to see a united planet. people more interested in love than in patriotism or themselves. i heard somewhere that everything we do is for love. from the cereal we buy to the jobs we work, no matter how mundane, it's all for love. if that is the case, what could possibly be worth fighting for. let's return home and see our childhoods and remember being held. let's forget what weapons are for. i want peace, inside-from my mind and my hearts rebellions; and outside-for the world not to have to bleed so much for so little.

10. just ten. make yourself a list. it's urgent. you could pass from this life at any moment. quit worrying and make a list you can believe in. then believe in it...it's you.

momentary rest

boys go arm in arm
with some girl down
the street go as the night
turns over in its restless
sleep.

young, we are subject
to masquerades of flight
but somehow lift off
the earth, become
ethereal.

find you afar and wish
as though time were real
that you were here
to kiss away
my shivers.

silver, cinematic
the night is a drunken
mans joke of drink,
a star or two nearby
blink.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

i miss you so much and it's just because of how much i know i'm gonna. but alone tonight, i don't dread, i tread sleep. my dreams of lions on a beach wrestling for...fun. i love you without wanting, to know what it means. we semi-possess each other from this distance, but we see the same world; our own. when you say that you think of me i feel the sun through my skin, my chest warms and i call out in silence for time to not exist...as i know it doesn't. please love, hold me in your heart until we can prove our ascension, ignition, and become upwards always.

a thank you, for kate k.

this is my whole heart
open, a wound in me
this is my whole heart, a universe unwinding
unfurled upon this moment
this is my whole heart, a song offered
this is my heart, the peace of being
human and bearing breath
this is my whole heart where blossoms open
and champagne galaxies are born to sparkle

this heart, your heart; how heat swells
bring us full to our tears and skin, our
lust for the unknown
this heart, who translates sense to idiom
makes us laugh and forget, makes us
remember when we are

this is my whole heart, an open wound
in me where i hold myself still and listen
to your every sigh as we dream off our days
in my heart where we are unstoppered
and overflow

Tamil style poem of Love and War

no, we will not break bread for tradition.
we will not let our bangles go limp on our wrists.
we will not cry until the battle has come to our door and then passed on, over.
no, we will not think a thought of love or death.

if god is asking for allegiance, then god has other doors to visit,
for who is really the breath of my breath[?]
who is the rhythm of my hearts blues
who brings the sun home and tucks my heat in at night

universe if you do expand, i'll feel every stretch
in my birdcage chest.

Epistle for a nametag

Dear Lint,
last night i dreamed we were driving
around central park in an old Mercedes
at midnight,
your yellow cat was curled up on your lap
and we watched the city lights blur like halos
around everything.
Ella says she saw you at the market yesterday
buying shoes. keep kicking old friend.

-Trivet

a rose is a rose is a...tangerine?

found a blue button
on the street today
reminded me of your
peacoat preserved
in memory like
pickled ginger we use
to cleanse our palates

by candlelight you
keep company until
the night drains
itself into dawn and
on this day jasmine
tea to wake us

publish your dreams
in scribbles with your
fingertips on my nape
make a palimpsest of
me like Sappho's
papyrus scrolls

found the imprint
of your head on my
empty pillow
this morning
i sighed and
placed my ear
where yours had been

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

falling in love, always with "likes". a floating stone. for one second at a time we can be who we are. enjoy the same music, skin against skin, what other things beds are for. take away my words, leave me with truth after truth. we cannot be left to fend for ourselves in a world in which we both exist. but we, birdlike, blow away...return...and are fended for. and, yes, time is a circle of our own invention, but lucky for us it uplifts as it returns. words fade and we are left like prayerflags in the breeze facing ourselves/each other.

for the one i missed...

there is nothing blue
or word like worldlight
nothing big but bracken
stark on less stark
sky

"women drink from mirrors
like thirsty stags" and
their images are magazine
clippings caught in the wind
wash

my own unsightly stares
carom room to room
overwhelm themselves
become beacons

or whirl up away to
be helium filled
parasols, big skirts caught
in updrafts; gleeful my
eyes

there are two kinds of people...

now that i've found my heart
i know how to hold it out
take it back
break it
give it back
make it
taste

i've found out how we live
the necessary hypocrisy
of juxtoposing
soft soft nights
with loud solid
days

my calloused hands hold
hers, my own heart
out warm drips
gleams into
her eyes

my wine sight
peach pie worries
see bueskywhite
winter whir...

to be promised a human life

binary, a songscapade
taught me to climb trees.
my dear friend, on stage
you are a silly ghost.

hi. hi. pretty eyes. yeah.
where my youth went,
the same games that took
it...further, further!!love!!
yes and, i feel so...

right now the frame
for later eyes, without
smiles. with joy beyond
face.

loveVOLTAGE

my heart.
and reading about oil.
but i know the tears will come
soon enough, i already feel
their well, readily inside
me. i am in one place but
for tonight i'll stay with me
and pray.

oh skin tingles, this
romantic poet displaced
in a time of "crisis" internal
jump ups to not mention
instruments. i miss you
already and we mingle in
my shivery mind, wait!
love there is no difference
but potential difference
and WE are a distinct measure
of current!

falling up

"The minute i'm disappointed, i feel encouraged.
When i'm ruined, i'm healed.
When i'm quiet and solid as the ground, then i talk
the low tones of thunder for everyone."
-Rumi

my soft roar goes in then out
love, you're everywhere: in
pigeon flights, paper scraps
coffee steam, my heart
swells charged lightning
i am drunk on the night
sky, your name: a pillow of air
rushes up under my crepe
wings and i touch the face
of god.

oh yes!

bubbles electrical bills boredom
but every baby becomes a big one.

(!)!(!)!(!)!(!)!(!)!(!)!(!)!(!)!(!)!(!)!(!)!(!)

girl, nightwise, you're taking
me further into reset
your text, eyes met connect
tremble, why am i so
afraid of you. circumstance
says all this huge hearted-
"oh, my god!" whisper will
wake me, punctuate my sleep
with kisses!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!yay!!

on leaving

sometimes in the evening
things happen for no reason
and we wander, learning
how to respond, instead
end up crying dark
at the windows a spread
spot on a pillow how
to feel again

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

walking concentric circles around myself. want not to hurt people, but there's a minefield in my heart. and i see how much trouble i was as a martyr. it sucks just as much being on this side of things. and she's so quiet. doesn't cry out and bang down the door. just hangs her head and i feel both of our hearts: mine quietly stepping back into a loneliness that i sensually don't even want, her crumbling in the chest that old familiar sinking. oh, love, i wish words could ever be enough. actions make just as little sense. breathe peace. breathe.

night echoes

"wake up." whispers
it's morning and
there's a whole world
outside the windows

was last night a...?
maybe, but her lips
could i have...
dreamed such wonder

now the day haze
giving up cigarettes
for dozens of coffees
still, those lips, on mine

all day
up and down ladders
tool belts bulge,
cold air tries the door

i am hotchocolate
warm

mosaic

rataplan, tintinnabulation:

the ocean or a rain storm
mice in the walls, sweating
ozone churned above shore
warm drops on a slate roof,
a face----

----tired eyes, tousled hair
weary from a night of tossing,
inhale coffee, clutch a mug
sun dapples, ripple in the
windows----

----hear a glass fall some
where far off, tinkling
index of refraction, a prism,
la feneetre hold back gloom
make the gelid ebullient

thimblebrook

we might be
a bunch a
bundle,
a cherished thimble
hugs and sly
sidesmiles
candleglow a mock-
ingbird whistle

if the sun
is in the milk
the broomclock
is a whelk