Month: June 2012

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I Love
when we’re talking
and I can see the Soul in your eyes
when reality fades out
and your face is sharper in focus
than daily living
when we’re together in love, understanding and compassion
Sympathy

I’ve lost my trust in my lust
so suspect any of my joy in the grotesque

I want only people that encourage me to
be more present
blossoming into further dimensions

/

I listened to a band called "Starfucker" preform the Cindy Lauper anthem "Girls just want to have Fun"
and at the third verse
I wondered if Muslim women ever sat alone in their rooms singing it to themselves
misremembered as:
"some religions
take a beautiful girl
and hide her away
from the rest of the world

I want to be the one
who walks in the sun
And, Girls
they wanna have fun
Girls just want to have fun."

you know
in Melancholy Ballad style

I only remembered the line about the Sun
before seeing it live tonight
and thought it to myself today
as I dodged out of the shadows
to be warm
and feel glorious

the weight of Saturn
can make the fluffiest idea
immensely dense

that happens all the time here

.iP

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just one more thing to do
before I..

.. I’m almost ready to start.

Just One More Thing To Do.
I’ve got to. . .

I’m almost ready to..

just a few more minutes
a few more things to do
then I’ll

I’ve got to do this
first
then I’ll. . .

I’m almost ready to

ready to start

I’m Ready To Start!

wait!
just one more thing. . .

/

it’s easier
you know
to be positive in the face of someone who is dying and complaining about life

much easier
sharp contrast
obvious example
of un enjoyable living

it’s simple
sometimes he’s the critical one
negative, always No and Can’t Be Done

but when he’s not
that’s what I’m doing
apparently
or how taken
and when I hear myself
it sounds like it

but I don’t know

what I want
what to do
what’s going on
how to do it
how to start

easier
I don’t know

but it’s nice
just to be loved
just to be close
just to watch the sunset
the rest of my desires are echoes of habits

"let’s go together!
let’s do it together!
together!"

.iP

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"like that time I was in a car with Dave and we ended up in Canada. . . " – overheard from passerby

four bands played
we
stayed
outside in the
little strip of grass
under a tree
yoga
massage stepping on each other
knees

Truffles

bending over backwards
with the tree
and on each other

watching the sun
set against the stars
and each other

of Montreal
were fucking beautiful
as they do
we danced
and were generally mirthful

yay, thanks for a good day

/

general
good weather
in my head

strangely threw my back out
(never done that before… now i know what everyone means when they say that)

set an alarm this morning
yeah, woke up when it was still morning
easily sleep deprived
but onward!
cleaning house
doing laundry

is that how i did it?

i was shrunk
and the conclusion of today is
my idea of my life is becoming closer to the actuality of my life
and, boy-o-boy-o am i learning to be vulnerable.

slow
change
,
kid
.

revsiting everone’s favourite magical herb today
i can’t say it’s a bad thing
but will i tomorrow
if i don’t have another?

but i know me: i will.
(i’ve got work to do)

glad to run into P.Christ
who i’d not seen in a very long time
we exchanged our troubles
like trading cards
showing our
"well, my life is like your life: this is how mine has been suffering. this is how mine. just like that!"
eating pizza
ice cream

my body agreed

and Jorge
well
i had a genuinely good time with him
good show, chap

good.

the ride home i felt a bit mischievous
but only after i felt a fool

(Drunk!Girls! had to pee… i offered them the water mudra… they did not deign to notice my existence. stupid boy was pretending his android had an app that played sound effects like running water.. so i turned on my "white noise" app on my iphone to the "running water sound" — i felt like an antagonistic little kid / brother .. so stopped)

got home
went out to the sidewalk
the last two spaces had trees planted in them today

yes
a good day to do things
so i went out there and sewed my seeds
the one that came in the mail
Obedient Dragon Heads
and
Love In A Mist
and some others

fingers in the dirt
sprinkling water

perhaps too late in the season

where is the moon today?

all is well
but it’s 4:30 again
like last night

i’m more tired though
and will sleep again
and will wake to my alarm again

i mustn’t let myself lose the morning entire again

must keep dialing it back
dialing it back…

.iP

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I would
wish
I could be nocturnal

but I always dream of being in sync with the world

I treasure my Otherness
(ego sickness)

I read that "morning people" are more likely happier and healthier
but because of their exposure to early morning sun
or being on sync with society
is unclear

or
they maybe are Healthier and Happier
thus wake joyfully in the morning to enjoy all life has to offer

where we night creatures night be disappointed with the steadiness of the day
a bitter taste in our mouth
with all this order we do not know our place in
constant like the moon
more attracted to her fickle laws
deciding to be so bright at night
to catch everyone’s eye
though not shining
just reflecting

yes, maybe we’re reactionaries
clans of antagonists

. . . what?

I wish I could just
do whatever
sleep whenever
wake whenever
have moments of aloneness
the peace of night
when you are all sleeping

I would wish it
but it doesn’t make me happy
healthy, wealthy nor wise

it’s just a further form of self indulgence
it does not help me sing
it does not help us dance

I must find a truer wish to want upon
I roll it around on my tongue. . .

.iP

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I don’t know if I want to talk to him
I see him there
he’s obviously different
long hair
I think one leg is a prosthetic
smoking electronic cigarettes on the train!
a walking stick with branch knots apparent
all dressed in black
manicured sides of his beard
not an iPhone user
enjoying his music
making faces of presence at me
long pale fingers
black backpack with purple carabiner on it
yeah
we’re both different
but I’m not really super interested in the 100% black clothing people

there was a fat daddy beat I saw on my street yesterday
in a kilt!
grey hair
but all dressed in black
knee high leather boots

so odd that that is a turn off for me now

oh
darkness
what use are you to me with out chroma?
this is where we live
in the mix. . .

/

he’d come a burlesque show at the Delancey
I saw his mouth open
I though
"sci-fi nerd"
this is what the straight ones grow up to be
now he’s talking to the nice jewish girl sitting next to me
showing her pictures from tonight’s show
a go-go dancer
"who treats gravity like a toy"
he sounds do impressed
excessive emphasis on these words
but I can tell he used to be very fat
now he’s slimmer
but a soft pouch in the front of his black slacks
and just such Big Hands and shoulders
a large man
yes
to someone like that
a dancer
"her background was in ballet"
his knee apparatus
it would be so amazing to beep lithe and graceful

I’m a little like that
have been more so
and those that I am attracted to admire the freedom I have in my body
as I admire the gravity they have on this earth

. . . but my superficial attraction has proven to be a poor choice most times
"bad taste in men" I was accused of at age 15
and still to this day
so
enough enough enough
on I wrestle
but mostly with myself
"find something else to do
with your time
. . . oh, while you’ve still got the chance"

.iP

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the world likes to dance
she offers her hand
in the form of a fierce beautiful Scottish girl from Arizona
Let’s make Music
make fantasy
have adventures
yeah

she come around again
separating from the throng
I heard her singing
ma vie en rose
on my subway platform
many months ago
she’s beautiful
and beauty leads us on
perhaps out of perversion
though her commitment to fantasy leaves plenty of room for new kinks

there was theater
but it didn’t inspire me
the gold leaf and fantasy of the building did
the night of rain did
seeing her again in the restaurant did
playing checkers
with cocktails and chocolate did
The Drug Song For Paula
was a good beat to pull each other too

"there’s something in the air. . .
and it’s Rez by Underworld"

I had to go home, yo
it was after 2
and the rain feel sweetly
reminded by my walk with Marcel
I let it kiss all over me
walking through the A over to the 1
so I could write my way home

what else lies in store for me tonight?

rest?

.iP

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"you are fearless"

I did not contradict
I do not well know my stance on that

of course I have fears
they plague me when I am alone
and have nothing to deal with

but yes
a half-life of traveling and rebelling the life I was offered
yes
fearless
in action
yes, of course

yes, something like that
not afraid of what I’ve been told to be afraid of
what I’m expected to be afraid of
so many silly things
people
situations
not worth sounding the alarms about

perhaps I am a hunter
or fancy myself one
a hunter of fear
stalking it in the world
as if an exterminator
just another agent of darkness
but never really inclined to create more fear
but to stalk it
and crush it

tiring of this
many mundane fears are ignore by me
sometimes I get bitten
mostly I brush it off

but
sitting in the dark
in central park
the wind wishing through the trees

what is that?
frog? duck? queer?
cruiser?
a police siren blip over there
a crushed stick: who goes there?
a splash in the water
badger?

my body tenses
heightens
well
yes
I’m alive
just flexing my wings

/

but
really
what did I find
wandering around in the dark?

skull faced daemon vampires?
self manifest as sucubus?
ink spot bass tantra master calling me Baby?
disappointed munchkin monster?
family of raccoons?
Cuban brujo who fed me his eggs for hours?

what did I find?
the land of faerie is Off The Map
the lights, the dark
the winding paths
the running water

the energy it takes
an open hand
Tina of gifts
given given given
habit driving me to hunger
self actualized
acrobatic, sensual warlock
servant of outcast isolated priests
wishing to free the planet from the death-grip of humanity

and though I
walk home alone
"I might walk home alone
but my faith in love is still devout"

oh, scratch my name on your arm with a fountain pen. . .

.iP

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what good are our hands on existential matters
– for the man who’s brain is everything
against a man who works with his hands

I don’t know either of us

but he loves
cares
hurts
and wants

we cannot fix other people’s lives
even those we love

but we can help by loving

there can be all manners of space and time in the equation of love
though I wouldn’t say they don’t affect it
they certainly aren’t a barrier

Actions seem to be a measure
but the currency of love is closer to presence

even through fogs of depression
or waves of introverted isolation
it is a blessing to remember moments of love
memories of being in the motions of love

being with another being
dropping guard and being divine with them
saving them with proximity of unity
or glorifying them in celebration of existence

I
am
still
tangled
in all this

but I appreciate it

though not always present to it
life
gratitude
beauty
I notice the dancing of living with you
I wish I were more of a weaver
yet

I keep reaching
stretching my fingers towards
opening my mouth
licking my lips
inhaling, as if to. . .

I will
I will
ik wil. . .

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storytelling
tedious or enlightening
powerful
mesmerizing

I believe the world is made of stories
elementals forever divideable
every origin
can have a prequel
the magic of imagination
tracing back infinitely

wishing to be created of love
outlining the fears in the darkness
reenforcing neurosis
creating beauty
teaching
banal entertainment
divine entertainment
catching up the mind
the soul
carrying the Life along

words
these
digital bits
DNA
atoms
sub atomic
strings
chi

to harness the tongue

. . . I do not want to be
drunk on power
corrupted

I do not trust my purity of heart

the more I learn of my humanity

I do not trust us

yet I desire this strength
and have
countless times
shirked it
hidden
collapsed into weakness

I’m fairly certain
in this life
I need someone to hold me hand
to manifest as my whole self
lover
partner
collaborator
family

to give birth
to be reborn
to be Alive

Love
in actuality
all surrounding
in action

.iP

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I was often amazed
as a kid
to see how thoroughly adults misunderstood the young
I kept it up through my twenties
and after I turned thirty
I was able to look back at the kids and smile with sympathy
how much they misunderstood life
their fiery passions and desperate yearnings
ah, the peace of maturity. . .

but wait! there’s more!

I’m still amazed
and see it happening to myself
I’m sure
each moment
I may forget why kids are as they are
even should I take a younger lover
I know how that goes
to marvel at how they burn
"whilst [i] can only wonder why"
but somewhat content to at least warm myself by their fire. . .

compassion is always an option, though
and can save us from humiliating each other

I always yearn to be in both worlds fully
and often end up lost in limbo
looking at them from a distance
(or, luckily, lost in one. . . but without, then, any perspective. . .
who needs perspective when one is in love?
maybe perspective has always been more important to me and is my undoing. . .
("in haunted attics"!)
)

maybe I have never yet felt a part of my generation (but isn’t my generation defined by not feeling a part of itself?)
or a family. . .
nationality, race, creed. . .
so I may never side specifically against any new movement I encounter
any more than I have all others

yet I do wish to understand

and with perspective I can
yes
it is in interaction where I am most foolish
. . . thus, also, most sublime

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return to the light
woke at 10:30
but I’m still up now
so I don’t imagine a huge change
just sleep deprivation in store
but the day had its beauty
slow push ups
dermatologist
digging stuff off my face
burning stuff off my feet
I winced around
looking for comics
-Can anyone recommend Alan Moore’s Promethea?
I rarely read anything anymore
but for pixels flickering across my eyes
(mostly while I’m typing. . . )

ah, I flipped through finding people in union square beautiful and repulsive
so didactic. . . no. . . diaphanous. . . no. . . dichotomistic. . . polar. . . gemini
some beautiful troll on a bike
did not appreciate my taking pictures of him
ah. . .
I met up with Koos
a little frazzled from trying to get some lenses cut for some frames I bought last autumn
we went up to times square
failed to buy tickets for a show for lack of good tickets for my discount code
ate Thai (delicious duck. noodles. green tea ice cream)
I had a cocktail
is one enough to make me nauseous when cigarettes are added?
we went back to union square to watch Moonrise Kingdom
held hands
laughed and cried and cringed and
what’s the emotion people mean when they go "squeeee!"?
we stood at the tip of the triangle where Broadway & 4th split
cars zooming around us
hailed a cab
a ride that was truly terrifying
cute seikh
but on his phone and agro
we smoked another cigaret in front of the radio city music hall
and I felt terribly nauseous
he wished I could just sleep
just rest
I. . .
I’m in a state if being disengaged from my desires
it’s keeping me out of trouble
and depression (wait. . . is that a symptom of depression? shit, yo..)
I went home
walking by more seikh can drivers
hello
I was rapt in the feeling of innocence
that movie. . .
was it false?
it certainly inspired. . .
yeah
maybe I just wanted to be innocent again
but on the train I finished watching an episode of true blood
which made me sigh
and some guy was yelling with bulging eyes
telling all the african to go back to their own fucked up countries. . .
he looked like he had a good deal of african through him
I almost threw up
heat flushed through my body
I gasped for air

when I got up to leave
I couldn’t get out fast enough
but while I waited for the door to open
I stated him in the eyes
just. . .
just so he’d know he was being heard. seen. just to let him feel it

I wished I could love and see the love in all creature
like Snow White and the bridge Troll
but. . .

I walked home
talked with T a while
face time
imagining sign language this way
snippets of the day:

what makes a person poor
is his inability to appreciate the gifts he has

I vacillate
in beauty

I tried to write
but demanded I keep myself thoroughly distracted
not a huge waste
just a constant ebb of attention
now look at it
6:23
time to switch off

.iP

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I’m out of time/sync
but I like these pictures I took in my "hallway"
I have two in my apt
but this is my cluttered and decorated one. . . so much space for more

the frizz I’ve been feeling is fading
I’ve been resting in my nest of an apt
enjoying not cleaning or washing or organizing
just stagnating and pondering
I feel a gentle shifting
and I’ll get up to walk again soon

however
Dear Mr. T has kept me social
he claimed my fifth day of birthdays
though I seem him more than anyone else
all this Theater. . .
he invited me to dinner
which was delicious
with Excellent ambiance
he took me to BAM to see Jonathan Pryce in the Pinter play "the Caretaker"
which was. . .
I’d never seen anything like it
and loved the British mess of it
the moments of mundane madness
the storytelling

and the conversations on the train afterwards

the play echoed in me
feelings when I’m lacking gratitude
which has become more precious to me the longer I live
and I am grateful for friends
as I’m grateful for feeling gratitude
a gift returned to me at the end of my last California trip
I do not yet feel I have regained my strength nor beauty
but I am also grateful for friends who hold it in their hearts

I’m blessed
and not entirely tired
on my vampire schedule
it’s time to now sleep

wake by an alarm today
stuff to do in the city
thank you city
I’ll come greet you soon

boom!

.iP