cleaning

I am drowning in notebooks, blank pages to fill; I’m thirsting for ideas, I’m parched.

I’ve been cleaning my room some (a noteworthy occasion) and in going through a box from this year found some fragments in a notebook. Since I haven’t written anything of note lately, here are some:

yes, I’ll write about you
if you let me hold your watch
to feel the cool textured metal
against my skin
and yes, I’ll let you see
if you tell me what you’re thinking
when you sit with that look on your face
so yes
I’ll write about you
if you let me borrow your pen
and yes, I’ll read it to you
if you let me peek in your head
and yes, I’ll write about you
if you let me see you
—
That one’s about a friend who’s always seemed kinda enigmatic. He’s a little quiet sometimes. Fun fact: he was sitting next to me in tutorial when I wrote that. Don’t think he noticed.
—
hey
would you let me
remember why
I felt that way?
it’d be hard
just to remember
so don’t worry that I’ll start feeling
again
—
No clue who that one’s about actually, besides presumably an ex, or at least ex-crush.
—
remember what the stars were like that night as seen through the steam rising up from the roofless shower post-beach as the water lent warmth to a chilled body… remember the feel of a hot shower no roof in the cold rain so the drops mixed and the towel was damp before it dried a single inch of skin…
—
That one is actually just about showering in the outdoor shower at my grandparents’ house on Cape Cod. No symbolism. Just showers.

Oh, also, I passed my road test! Hooray.

written on… the 15th?

See this post.
Was too lazy to type it up until now.

—

In which I attempt poetry:
this will be found: end your worries!
can we do that, really?
one ticket – no refunds
that’s no guarantee
but what a statement
end your worries
is it an order? a promise? merely a suggestion?
and which worries? all of them?
what about the ones I’m yet to have?
(keep this coupon)
ladies and gentlemen, lend me your ears!
this fine man exhorts us all to END OUR WORRIES!
yes, you heard it right here
end your worries (no refunds)

—

Not sure about it, really. I like parts, but I’m undecided about how well it all works, or if it’s really finished.

unplug

Today, I actually wrote a whole bunch. The trick was to unplug, apparently. I closed my laptop, sat at my typewriter, listened to some Eluvium, and WROTE. So good. Will edit the stuff and get at least some of it up here at some point.

I don’t know how intentional it is on their part, but I’m still hanging.

Ow.

so I found this on my computer. I still feel it.

from Oct. 13 journal:

and better than wine
if love has a hangover, that’s ages away
I’ve been collecting perfect moments each day

make sure you know
no matter how this will grow

sober, in the sunlight

I fell
who can I tell?
tell the world
tell them all
yes, I did fall

and do I care?
and really
it’s not where
you’re from
that matters so much
as where you’re going

don’t give a fuck
how you grew up

something set this
it’s too perfect for chance
it’s a story to tell

I’m in love
I’m love
you’re love
my love
oh
love

poetry fragments

one day we say
one day we’ll do it all
whatever it is
I’ll swim naked at night
I’ll see Venice
I’ll get published
one day I’ll write that book

one day we say
one day we’ll do anything at all
anything
I’ll get rid of those dead flowers
I’ll wash the dishes
I’ll feel like getting up in the morning
one day I’ll remember to call

—

hey, remember me?
I’m you, you know, from before
hey, remember how you used to feel?
I feel it now
hey, feel it again
listen to this, see
the music takes you back
it always does, doesn’t it?
I knew it would
hey, remember you’re not me anymore
don’t get lost in that feeling
you can stop feeling it now
hello?
you coming back?
step back out of that feeling
are you listening to me anymore?
hello?

—

your brain should be a buzzing symphony
or so I’m told
what is the appeal of raw garlic?
it makes me less hungry
and these boots make me feel like a rockstar, but
what does that signify?
plus all those drunken phone calls and texts
what did they ever accomplish?
nothing
nothing at all

—

All need more work, I think.
Thoughts?

two fragments

to remember us like this, and this, and this, and this
our bodies like continents
peninsulas extending
bending
as our plate tectonics lead to continental collision
and our geography undergoes revision
after revision
after revision
converging, and what is emerging?

—–

he tells her stop feeling old
there are still things you haven’t yet done
you never walked barefoot in the cold rain
you never wove on a loom
you never ate quinoa
she tells him stop feeling young
there are so many things you have done

—-

Neither feels done.

carbon

translucent, thin
the paper actress considered the paper theatre
the paper theatre considered the paper actress
the paper theatre created the paper actress
the rice paper butcher paper wax paper world
the carbon paper
the carbon copy people
she, the actress, was not carbon paper, carbon copy
created by the theatre and created just once
the paper actress
no ballerina, she
no spangle, no tin soldier to love
she considered the theatre alone
she considered her carbon copy script
performed carbon copy plays for the carbon copy people
scripts as substantial as tissue paper
wanted to scream sandpaper feel tar paper solid
from the depths of her origami soul
of folded tracing paper
intricate, transparent
she felt the wrapping paper change of a prettier outside
and stepped onstage again

—–

Not sure whether I like the ending, or the title… May need work.

playing games

one, two, three, Miss Mary Mack
we were all just as good as each other
on the playground
so when now you speak snakesspiderswasps i think
you’re all just as bad as each other
(and maybe i am too?)
from my point of view the yousnakegirls all look the same
even though you’re all so different (and amazing)
i can love you when you’re not hissstingbiting
i can love you when you’re not enemies
i can love you when you can love
(but i can’t hate you even when you hate)
three, two, one
we’re still just as good as each other
(right?)

—–

This may need/get some revision at some point.

Quelquefois

I want things to be different.
If I could make one wish
I’d return to that dream
fantasy of me and you.
The one reality bent around
until you bent it back.

I hate it when you’ve turned your back.
When it’s been so long, and it shouldn’t feel different
anymore. When it’s “see you around,”
and all I can do is wish.
When it’s so long since I’ve touched you.
I just get lost in a dream.

I wonder do you miss that dream?
Do you want to have it back?
And how are you,
anyway? You’re different.
I wonder do you wish
The way I do? Well, I’ve wished enough to go around.

What goes around comes around
and life is a crazy dream.
Blow out your birthday candles, make a wish.
Could all the pink yellow blue candles get us back
to where we were? It’s different now
maybe. Not sure about you.

When I see you
wherever, just around
you don’t seem that different.
Just less busy, which lets me dream
of your saying you want me back.
Not a guess, just a wish.

An eyelash has fallen, make a wish.
I’ve used so many on you
but I wouldn’t take any back.
Maybe they’ll come back around,
anyway. I can still dream
of things being different.

I only wish when you’re not around.
Like the other night, you were in my dream.
I’d take you back, even if it’s different.

acute

bones bones skin bones skin
stretch it taut
skin tight bones sharp
angles are better than curves
?
angles, planes
lines of spine and ribs and hips
angles are better than curves she says
emptiness is better than curves
emptiness is better
she is
shrinking into
angles planes
emptiness
bones
bones ache, bones shake
awake?
dreaming a skeleton
angles
tight taut
stretch pull
empty
she says
better than curves
it’s hard
it’s sharp
it’s aching (and it’s taking too much)
she said empty.
she said bones.
she shrank
she became angles
angles and planes, curves turning to lines
empty bones
scream?
she said watch me.
watch her dwindle
aching shaking always cold
shiver sliver
angles are better than curves?
she said yes.
she said.
emptiness became everything became angles became planes
shaking into tears
she said that was right.
aching for angles
stretch it taut
over the emptiness
she said.

—

I promise more action once the show I’m working on is over.