There's no secret handshake. There's an IQ prerequisite. But there's no secret handshake.

So it's come to my attention that I've been disowned. I didn't know people did that, it's so 1540's, but what do I know? Apparently it's retro. Maybe all the kids are doing it now days. Maybe we should turn it into some cool new slang so we can add it to the growing list in the Urban Dictionary. We'll start using it at parties.

Words are inadequate.

There are no words to describe where my heart is right now. Well I suppose that's not entirely correct since I'm writing words right now. Let's just say there aren't words to succinctly describe where my heart is. I think mainly sad for all involved. Sad for any hurt that I've caused and for all the hurts I can't stop. Sad when a relationship is broken and people are hurt. Sadder that it has been broken for a really long time and I just never bothered to fix it, because I didn't want to end up on the receiving end of what seems to be some sort of steroid rage situation. That seems like a really harsh punishment, simply for someone having a difference of opinion. I'm sad that you've been sad and angry for a really long time, since I don't suppose your actions are that of a happy person. But I think really my heart is split. It's not broken, it's all in tact and in good working order, but it's really confused. I think the way that you’re doing what you’re doing is wrong. And I don’t support the choices that you’re making right now or the chaos you're creating. I won't be buying you a present to feel better about you and make me like you again. I'm trying really really hard to love you. I know you don't think of it that way and I haven't necessarily executed it correctly. I understand that you don't likely care about any of what I'm writing or how I feel. Trust me I know. You've made it perfectly clear.

Kiss and Tell 2010

With the end of the year rapidly approaching it seems that a count down of sorts is appropriate so I'll give it a whirl.

It happened one night - I'd met you at a dive bar, we had a beer and some awkward conversation. The kissing was decent, but you got handsy waayyy too fast, then only called me because you wanted a piece of ass.

Million Dollar Baby - I'd given you my phone number when I very first moved to PDX and didn't know a soul. We didn't really have any chemistry, but for some reason we ended up making out sometime in January (blame it on turning 30, yikes) But you were a decent kisser and such a gentleman.

Peter Pan - Fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me.....We made etc.. and you are not a good kisser. Your age really showed in that you might still think you're in a highschool make out session.

Sportsfan - You were the best kisser probably for the first half of the year. we had a good date, then a few days later watched a movie at your house, you were really nice and snuggley and turned out to be a good kisser. You paid attention to details and you didn't drool all over my face. 2 thumbs up.

Clean Slate

The summer of fun is officially over. At least parts of it were fun. Apparently and in hindsight, I was a magnet to every dysfunctional man in Portland. Don't pretend like you're not jealous. Remember when your mother told you men only want 1 thing? I was unaware of how truthful that statement was and how boldly men pursue it. Men think with their penis, big surprise, and really I'm ok with that, because ya know play with the hand you were dealt. So there were more or less 5 men over the summer that I had some sort of interaction with on varying levels that I won't get into, blah blah blah. So in any order I want here we go.


White rapper part deuce - I have no one to blame but myself. 25 year old men, generally never fail to act like 25 year old men, no matter how much they want to save the world. What they really mean, is that they want to look like they're doing good things in order to promote their music career. Sadly he is a really really awful kisser and sadly I learned this 2x. Fool me once shame on you fool me twice shame on me.

Beer Buddy - The beer buddy actually isn't a bad guy at all. 1 date which was awkward but not bad, he never really pursued anything other then that, but I was really bored one night and went to his house to watch a movie, he likely felt more used then I did. But I feel like he hasn't really handled it maturely since then, which is so sad for him. The total stone wall is so disrespectful and really what made this interaction go from pleasant little interlude to a bummer.

HMS Vancouver- Nothing good came out of this. Well ok, I did get kissed for 20 minutes by a very drunk canadian and he was a really good kisser, but he got very upset when he couldn't come home with me. This also happened to be an interaction with the married ex, who apparently doesn't care so much about the wedding vows he made. Dodged a bullet there.

G-Force - So I'm thinking this guy must be the biggest liar ever. Pakistani Greg, who said he was leaving the country after our first date? Then proceeds to email saying we need more skin to skin contact. What a jerk.....so annoying.


So it's time to start over with a clean slate. I was hoping to go to Canada this weekend have a lot of fun then come back ready have gotten the party girl mode all out of my system. Instead I got to spend 3.5 hours in the E.R. and the E.M.T's weren't even cute.

Where to go from here? Well I don't know. Time to plan a bigger, better vacation? More adventures to follow.

To thine own self be true

Accept everything about yourself--I mean everything, You are you and that is the beginning and the end--no apologies, no regrets.--Clark Moustakas.

I know for a fact that i'm driven by results, i also feel that i'm more or less good at being myself, however, sometimes the 2 statements conflict. When after 30 years of being myself, i feel like the results are less then adequate, what do you do with that information? i am not happy right now. i'm blue. i try to rally, walk it off, whatever but i am unhappy. I'm flat. dead pan. I don't know what to do about it. I think i need to talk to someone, i got the number for seeing a therapist today from my HMO. I keep waiting for it to get better, to buck up what have you, but that ain't happening baby, and i don't want to base my personal happiness on other people like, dislike or attention the lavish on me. i won't have it. I want to be true to myself, and i think that when i am, then i can't question my actions, because i undeniably am who i am and it feels right. anything else feels out of step. But what do i do after being myself for so many years and feeling unsuccessful in my romantic relationships and even with some friendships? who changes? it often seems to blow up in my face when i treat people (especially male people_) the way i want to be treated. There is no conclusion to this ramble, haha ok there is likely never a conclusion to most of my rambling. But i'm stumped, i'm sad, i'm flat (not chested,just flat affect) and it feels foreign, wrong, lame etc... feeling true to myself seems right, but if this is where it lands me, how right can it be?

The infinite sadness

So i've been waking up early, before my alarm. What's that about? Sometimes I wake up and the day stretches out ahead of me and it kind of lands with a disheartening thud. Nothing new, no adventures, just a lot of nothing. Some of those days I wake up and tell God i' m miserable, lonely, pissed off, need attention etc... it's not news to him. Other days i wake up and i'm able to pour my heart out in a different way, it's like how i present my thoughts are different. the angst is different. maybe i need vitamin d. maybe i need an adventure. maybe i need a baby or some other creature to love. ok well not a baby. though recently i've decided babies probably aren't as bad if they look like people you're already fond of. so if i'm fond of you i love your baby. i may even consider eventually, possibly, in the futurue perhaps acquiring one for my own household. I don't know. Thinking about it, makes me need to have a little panic attack, but i'm sure that's normal. right? I just think something's gotta give. Not with babies, but in general. i'm tired, and i'm never tired. but i'm kind of tired of this. it's like some cruel form of adult puberty that never ends. And pretty much i'm over it.

So much for the after glow

When the music fades and i'm stopped, sometimes I don't know what to do. I like the signifigance of going. I feel insignifigant, now that i'm home. I love my life, where i'm at right now, living where i'm living, but at this very moment, i feel sad and inconsequential. I think it's like that when i'm not investing in people. I'm ok being alone, but sometimes i don't know the purpose. i think i was made to love people. Emotion is so wicked some time, so betraying. it takes away your ability to put on a facade. i'm content. i'm happy, but right now i want to cry and i have not one damn good reason why. Even as i'm writing this, it feels finished, but unfinished, like something is clawing at me, I can't write it out, but it's just below the surface. My pen won't appease the angst today.

All things gonna come back around

I love Johnny and the moon. This week started off pretty shitty, i got really mad at a piece of wood sunday morning and painted it angry. it felt good. but now it looks disjointed and when it stops raining i'm going to give it another go. who knows what kind of beasts will be unleashed. oy vey. writing this feels disjointed. usually this is more of a vent for me, like where i write things down to figure them out, but instead this is more like memorializing a feeling. All that is to say, i never doubt that i'm loved, but it's always nice to be reminded, in subtle and not so subtle ways. whether it's someone empathizing with me over my huge life questions, talking to my best friend from jr.high or reconnecting with a person i simply adore and just hearing about his life, the good, bad whatever. last week i read a quote that said, we are part of everyone we have met. i love that idea, and i've seen it evident in my life this week. it was really cool, to see it played out. To know that what's real is real and sustainable.

All my good intentions are lost in my desire to get to the point. When I act out how i feel in the moment, it seems so justified, but the repercussion of loosing someone important to you, and having them cut you out of their life completely, makes me wonder if maybe it wasn't worth it to stand up for what i wanted. I'm sad. Though it's a little bit of a relief to have tears and not have them caused by some carnal mistake i made to raise my self esteem. Life hurts right now. I'm so confused about faith and sex, and love and God, just like a counting crows song or something. I don't know what to do, or how to fix it, maybe i just let it be. Maybe if people need their space i just let them move out of the country because that will make them feel the best. I realize that everything isn't about me and i'm really really ok with that. in fact if fewer things would be about me, that would be swell. or maybe i'm the cause of all that is wrong? Am i the face of poor choices? I could be. I want people to be who they are, go through what they need to go through, and have faith that believes that they'll come out of it with the set of experiences that they're supposed to and have their character molded appropriately. For a really really really long time, i spent my life telling people why they were wrong and what they needed to do different. that didn't make me feel like a very good person. Plus who am I to give advice? I'm questioning the foundation of the world and my role in it. I hate it when people hurt, but honestly i hate it when i hurt even more, because I can't shut it off. And for the fucking life of me i've been trying to give it over, and give it up and it won't seem to go. Just fucking go already. I'm so very exhausted of this struggle, the emotional upheaval, the hope, the crushing disappointment when i screw things up, the hurt, the expectation. i'm so very tired of all of it. I'm tired of wanting things to be different and then everything staying the same. Maybe i'm supposed to give up? for the life of me i would if i could. Supposed to stop wanting and desiring things? cause i'm buddah? i just know it hurts, and i need it fixed and that i don't want to lose anymore friends, but maybe that's just part of why everything is screwed up to begin with.

Life or something like it.

Sometimes I’m brilliant. I feel like Jack Kerouac, imparting wisdom to the masses. To those that recognize that everything I say is genius. Every word that drops from my lips is significant and changed your life. And then I shoot blanks and quote Bill Cosby. And no one laughs. But really, I am the incarnation of radical. When my neurons fire, please interrupt me. Science is an aphrodisiac . Damn chemistry is sexy. Molecules are tricky little bastards, but, I don’t care. My spidey sense is tingling and I am uninhibited. Don’t hate the player, hate the game. Life is a stage and we are a sum of its parts. Moving independently in unison to the song stuck in our head.

Heart Song

Insignificant repentance has sentenced me to an ecclesiastical existence. This vast immortality morality is killin me. Try to find middle ground between here and there and every where I can see your underwear. I’m just Holdin on to the end of this rope, hopin’ to be stoked for eternity and be all the me that I can in between the dogma and the liturgy. Faithin it or fakin it, not sure if I am makin it. Not Livin it or lovin it instead I feel like shovin it.

Wrongitude.

Conserve water: shower together. But not in front of me. I don't think that's too much to ask, i've always been opposed to voyeurism. That's a whole different kind of naked. It just reminds me of things i'd rather forget and that i change my tune as soon as i find a new beat. But the beat goes on, and on and on, sometimes it gets stuck in my head, to the point of insanity. You can dance if you want to, you can leave your friends behind. There's comfort in the safety dance, unless of course you feel like you want to bust a move, then it's a little bit of a drag. The beat goes on. Does that make me a hypocrite? I hope not. I think that means i'm still figuring it out and can't find my way out of a paper bag, none the less how to curb impulse control and poor decision making. That'd be the day. I need to be vindicated, syndicated or have my wisdom jotted down in 45 languages. I just want guess right more often.

2 points for honesty?

The hardest part about dishonest is the dis. Why would someone set out to lie to me? it makes me really think about the things i say and the reasons i've shaded the truth. i can embellish A LOT. I think generally most people know that I'm doing that, but when I think of times i've actually lied to people, either because i didn't want a negative reaction, i thought they'd be hurt, etc... whatever the reason, is it just seems so insulting. do those people really want to be protected? when i've been hurt and lied to, what is it i really think? Wow this deception is so much easier to handle then the truth? i'm so glad someone lied to me. Now i'm an awful liar, and it is my intention to just be honest with people, mainly because i'm not good at lying and forget that i have, but really you get the idea.

I think personally I just end up feeling stupid for believing lies, and not seeing them coming. So how do i stop feeling stupid?

Spongey

The world is ending again.The love is lost, the powers that be, were and now they're over it. Love is lost, but it covers a multitude of indiscretions. At least it used to. Back in the bad old days. This constant push pull is exhausting and costing me my sanity. I hate it when you wallow in the drama. Your fingers are pruney, that means it's time to get out. My moral compass no longer points north it just spins erratically in circles, trying to find direction.

You call that love? fuck. how can you be my very foundation on how to love people and treat them like this! this is rough for me on so many levels. is it really worth the effort? this constant push pull and i'm 200 miles away and still get pulled in. I guess when i ask how you are, i don't really want to know the answer.

I've died a lot of times.

I've died 1000 times. I was reading in James this morning and it was so powerful. it talked about death and i've died so many times. sometimes i read the bible and it seems ridiculous and sometimes i read and it doesn't cause any feeling at all. but then i read it and it becomes clear and i try to figure out what does this mean? i hate waking up hurting. feeling the sting of old wounds. what's that about anyway? Sometimes i feel hopless sometimes i feel faithless.


i know that God is real, intuitively i feel it. if i trust my intuition for so many other things, then i have to trust my intuition about God.

If God were my boyfriend

So what do you do when God doesn't make sense? I trust that he's given me a brain,logic and intuition for a reason. So what do i do when those tools fail me? The very things i trust to guide me through every day life. Where do I turn when i'm left feeling duped and stupid? Surely there was a sign my intuition missed, right? surely i should have seen a hint of this right? so what do i do with that? where do you go from there? certainly God doesn't answer to me, but i'd love nothing more then answers because the questions are overwhelming and no climax seems to be in sight. it's hard to feel stupid. hard to admit that you're doubting a faith that your life has been based on. so what's harder? feeling stupid for not seeing that someone was going to lie to me? having my intuition be be wrong? or knowing that in theory God is faithful, but finding it hard to keep believing that as well? where does my intuition lay on that one? do i feel stupid believing the loving kind words of God even though i keep getting bumped and bruised along the way? if God were my boyfriend i'd probably dump him or we'd be on a break till he could treat me right.

All that you can't leave behind.

Your mouth is not mine, but you never hold back. punish me with flirting and sweet words that should never be said, they're unfair and unkind under the circumstances. asshole. i play by the rules, but you can't be bothered with the state of my heart or the salt of my tears? enlisted and twisted you snuffed out the flame. selfish intentions masquerading as bitter sweet memories of days gone by. i'm tipsy and remember late night whispers, that I'VE TRIED TO FORGET, but you insist on reminding me of. Your voice kissing my ear, slurring and lilting, breaking promises, promsing pipe dreams and crushing my heart all over again. Fuck You! There's no one to blame but yourself. I didn't vow. I didn't pledge, I didn't call. I've been done with you in spades and for days. Now here I sit and once again your fickle refrain has left me at sea. But it's you who's missing out. I find my feet just fine, leap past your lies and soar to where the streets have no names and the possibilities are endless. But you sir, are welcome to stay in your house of broken promises and watch me as I walk away. please enjoy the view.

i left my heart in san fransisco

I feel stifled. I hate it here, but it holds my heart. this is where i learned to love, but then i became alive. It's bitter sweet, longing for the love, yet loving where i'm living, it's so unfair. you're too far away, my heart beats and grows and bursts when i see you. but it's stifiling and aimless. no direction, we all float on. And when i leave i can't breath for the way my heart is pounding in my throat and clogging my airways. but for the very life of me I can't go back. i was dying inside now i am alive. and I don't know how to do it another way! you're the dust on my feet and it chokes me. and it's on purpose, the distanced the miles, the space. I need it like I need to see you, like the way that you being here makes me alive and makes me want to live. and I miss you. and i'm annoyed that i'm so adored, that I don't want to leave, and could never really stay.

Come on people now, smile on your brother, everybody get together, try to love one another right now.

Life is about loving people and free coffee from gas stations.
People love free stuff, but we don't like things that are worthless. It should cost something, but it doesn't is drastically different than it isn't worth anything. There is no free lunch. Everything has a price. You can choose whatever you want.


Vices are just like gremlins.
Even with good intentions
they turn into something willful and destructive.
Just because life's a bitch,
doesn't mean we have to stop living it.
Accept where you are at or die trying.
There are lots of ways to die,
And there are lots of kinds of death.

What will I do once I find the meaning of life?
Do I get a prize?
Is there something tangible?
The joy of achieving?
Even if I found it 10 other people would think they could do it better.
Let em try.

The Sky is falling.

Another day, another dollar, another death threat.
I’m exhausted from pondering, love, God and a good sex life.
Why my day goes to shit when I have a bad hair day.
Am I really that vain? Yep. Really I am.
Sorry world peace, my hair is more important.
World peace is such a bitch. I hate it when my shit isn’t as
Important as the local headlines.
Is it so wrong to want to bring peace to my world?
Doesn’t it all start with me?
An army of 1.
I wage war against myself
And there is no body to maintain the peace keeping efforts.
We’re a land of beatniks, free love and self actuliaztion.
That’s what got us into this trouble to begin with.
Love the one your with, until you realize they don’t love you back.
I didn’t see that one coming. Again.
I hate it when attraction outweighs good intentions
It would be nice if synergy was real.
And everyone would work together for one cause.
Like keeping me from dating another musician?
But no. My angst takes back burner to
Dirty water, AIDS and assholes.
Sorry broken hearts and hurting people of the world
Didn’t you realize I was busy over analyzing life?

I'm somewhere where I don't know where I am

i hate running. trying to figure out life, love, and sex.. i'm l0st and i don't know what to do about it. i want things different don't know how to do that.  to fake it. do i have to get it right first? i don't believe that. i don't think that's the character of God. he doesn't make me jump through hoops that's not him.  i feel so alive when i'm worshiping . i love you and i can see how you work and you love but then when i'm here and now and  miserable and doesn't make sense. it's like sometimes i see it in my life. you're not a tease but the very thing you want me to trust you for is the thing that gives me the most doubts. it pisses me off. i don't know how to deal with this. i know it's mot always sunny but i'm so tired of dealing with this i feel like i've given it up like 390 times and it still plagues me. it works for other people. why?  why can't this work for me, i don't get it? can't i be miserable with everyone else? tell me i don't know what i believe and i don't know why i believe it

Everyone has a fishing boat

Everyone in PDX has a fishing boat. and you're not cool unless you do. it's like that scene in Billy Madison where the kid pees his pants.  Peeing your pants is the coolest, you're not cool unless you pee your pants.  Nobody just is.  It's like everyone is sunbathing for skin cancer.  perverts for peace. etc.. etc... I don't think it's bad, but I do think it's interesting.  Working down town I get pan handled roughly 1 million times a day. it hurts my heart, that people are hungry and don't have enough. it's overwhelming. I always wants to do something, but honestly half the time end up feeling like I gave at the office.  Sometimes when I come home from work,  I don't want to be sad or stressed anymore, I already did that today.  It's been weighing me down a little. I have such an emotional response to this yet  not really a clear vision of what my role is in it.  I hear so many people talking about events that they're organizing, things they're doing etc... I love that my friends have a heart for people.  i'm glad they're not all bastard coated bastards with bastard filling. that would be pretty depressing. But what kind of kicks ass about this, is that I realized what my role is. So the next time you're out Hunting for Hepatitis I could be a part of that.

Biology is a bitch

I’m seeping sex. Damn pheromones. Feminine wiles can take a while to catch up to you. Venus Di Milo is my hero, minus the seaweed.  She’s got it going on, since she’s got no arms And is still ok with public nudity. But that makes sense  Because there are lots of kinds of naked. This is the good kind. Where your hips sway to the staccato cadence. From step to strut. Confident and naked.

2007 Ode To Mucus - Apparently I deal with illness by writing it love poems.

In the morning before i look in the mirror
I'm waiting, wondering when you'll appear
But then it's there, the time is right
I can feel your presence before i turn on the light

I sit up in bed my breath grows shallow
Throat constricted I can hardly swallow
My lungs are tight i rasp and wheeze
But then you're there and i can barely breath

Mucus, Mucus every day
You know you take my breath away
Mucus Mucus every night
You know your timing just ain't right

Gag and cough each time I sneeze
I have fever of 100 degrees
You hold my lungs in your iron grip
My body aches from head to hip

Why oh why don't  you  back off?
Why do you have to make me cough?
With each and every  mucus bubble
My hate for you grows double

Mucus, Mucus every day
You know you take my breath away
Mucus Mucus every night
You know your timing just ain't right

I wish you'd put my mind at ease
So I will not be diseased
Now it's time you have to go
Why you stayed I'll never know

You must go and not come back
You make me feel like I'm on crack
Branch out and find somebody new
Cause I'm not the one for you.

No I'm not the one for youMucus, Mucus every day
You know you take my breath away
Mucus Mucus every night
You know your timing just ain't right

No I'm not the one for you

Argh

Asshole, oh my soul,  i'll have you know i need instant gratification.   Omniscient would be nice, but there is a cost to knowing everything.  My weekly wilted,  life's a bit tilted and I really need to pee.

The meaning of life

It would be great to write something really Kerouacesk about how we need to enjoy the journey and take life one day at a time. Make our own clothes and live off the land, enjoy just being. that sounds like a way better answer then not being tied to the end result of any given situation.  Am I truly just in this for the outcomes?  Taking the MAX? yes. Watching a movie? No. It varies. somethings are about the result some things are about the journey.  I tend to be results driven,  maybe it's just a way to justify my own actions. Who knows.  I think it feels like I should put my energy into being a better person.  This made more sense when i was riding the MAX.

Wicks and stick and sealing wax, cabbages and kings

I hurt my toe carrying down a piece of plywood, that still isn't as good at a box spring. damn it Jim. I'm a man not a machine, except that I'm a woman. hear me roar. take that tiger. I'm not used to heavy lifting. I've been spoiled. I'm not handy. Not in the least.  I do not have a mechanical mind. Maybe body mechanics. I like that.  I like knowing how your brain works and chemical reactions.  Some chemical reactions more then others. Wink wink, nudge nudge, say no more. Man I love Monty Python.  Yet I digress.  I'm too pretty to do manual labor. At least that's what I keep telling myself and I think that my mom would agree with me. So put that in your pipe and smoke it.  But not around my mom, she might just do it.  She smokes a corn cob pipe, that's how she gave up cigarettes.  How many other people can say their mom smokes a corn cob pipe? huh? huh? Bueller? Bueller? Exactly.  But as I was saying, I'm not a wilting flower, but I can't complain about the previous system of oil changes and  handiness that was allocated in my favor.  I don't want to be spoiled or dependent, that sounds pretty lame.  I'm pretty crafty.......but handy, that's a different story.

Faux

Botox, detox,cement blocks.. Everybody get up on your box and scream as loud as you can. Driving and striving to make sure you’re the only voice that’s heard. We’re all rugged individuals, trying to pay the heating bills, get up every body and be.




 I might actually seek out a beat for this one.

Ode to Spring Fever

Roses are red
Spring is my rhyme
Good thing it’s March
Or it’d be the wrong time.
You can tell by the way
Some people get antsy
How their thoughts of “like”
Now turn to fancy.
But it’s not for naught
It’s just part of the order
Men get more chivalrous
Short skirts will get shorter
But it’s all sadly false
There’s cold to be had
Your bones will still ache
Just ask your dad.
He watches the weather
And calls to give word
It’s snowing in Alaska
Haven’t you heard?
But pay no attention
To that mere distraction
We’re talking of Spring time
Lust and attraction.
Remember back when
“They” caught your eye
You thought it was love,
But it’s really a stye.
How you long for a fix
A treatment, a cure!
Some secret weapon
To use as a lure.
Please just be patient
Don’t start your groanin
Remember how Leno
Won over Connan?
Now that’s a sad story
A very sad song
Much like your grandma
Dressed in a thong.
So back to my point
This Spring Fever pickle
Love is quite strange, threatening and fickle
So when it comes time
And you are all flustered
Just remember the seasons
And please pass the mustard.

Repression

I need a little release, but can’t seem to find the grease that will make the words flow and put digression to my repression so the roses aren’t red. That’s just a clever endeavor to put words on page, not subside the rage, that keeps me out of fine print. I don’t know where to begin. With original sin? Or just the context of this present perversion? I’ve got the words to retort, but can’t seem to pop the cork that releases my inner word smith.

Center of Attention

Do I love you? Or love what you do for me? Thanks Toyota, a metaphor for life should always be catchy, easily remembered and pulled up to quip pithy wisdom at intellectuals while you’re drinking crappy coffee from the evil empire. Autonomy is so much easier. This constant weighing of good vs evil is exhausting and over wrought. Things would be easier if I were some store bought drone, wind me up, send me out the door. Hello I’m on auto pilot. Boring. Ticky Tacky. Is autonomy really autonomious? Free will, pays the bills, but it leaves me grasping and red eyed. My brain hurts. My heart hurts and that rhymes with brawtwurst. Who couldn’t go for a sausage right now? That’ what she said. Wait. Shouldn’t this poem be about world peace? Or is it just about my world in pieces? If the world isn’t round how is it going to revolve around me? I recycle. Save the animals. The stupid squirrels are dying off. You could learn a lot from a dummy. Maybe you should just try a little harder. I’m the apple of my own eye. I’m just trying to get my stride right, fall into step, without tripping or running any stop signs. Sorry pedestrians. I’m well intentioned. I want a cause that’s not about me. I hate it that people are hungry. I’d like to teach the world to sing, but then I want to make them dinner. Only you can prevent forest fires, so I suggest you start now.

Core

I’m Cole Porter in panties. Really this should rhyme then I’d be hip and everyone would understand that I’m a bad ass and I’ll fight for my right to party. I can advocate for others with a beer in my hand it’s what I do best, despite the alcohol poisoning. I’ll do my best to commiserate, the fate of those too little too late. It was a good go, till I lose the beat, then I have to keep my social rebellion low key, and cauterize my bleeding heart, so that it doesn’t fall out. Intellect is my aphrodisiac, the clever art of seduction, serves it’s function, since brains are sexual organ. Pulsating, pounding, expounding to the brink. Ecstatic. Mentally, physically, deplete. Sometimes semen really upsets my stomach, that makes it hard to go with your gut.

Blissful Ignorance

The roses are wrecked
Your perspective is whack
Lower Middle class house wife
all prone for attack
You'll fight for oppression, injustice and pride
Your kids get free lunches, you get a free ride.
Down with the system and health care reform
People helping people? That's not the norm.
You'll take all your hand outs
It's ok for you,
Your husband has a job
You have expensive shoes.
To hell with community
The housewife will cry
I'll live in fear
The rest of you can die.
You don't see all the others
Because you're so entitled, so right
You'll keep being selfish ignoring their plight.
You cover your sins
But point fingers at theirs
American attitude:
It's not me, so who cares?