Charisma Killer and the Tower

Tower is the worst card you can get.
In the moment of truth there is no truth.

Blinking falsehood ass crack pinky
Down the stairs tumbling slinky

Up your cares and rage all fours
Echoing toward corridors

Hippocrates is on his knees
and marshmallows spawn jealousies

I think I may I think I might
Sing a dismal song tonight

Underbelly lurched and cowed
One minute hungry
The next is proud.

Staying thin and staying fit,
upon the alter I will sit

Repeat, take turns, and crouch and arch
In the end, they always part.

It turns the middle paranoid
A crest from full to empty void

Meniscus round, massive heaved
Seeds naught planted, simply bleed

A car a crash a girl regrets
She knows the truth but oft' forgets

I am kicking you off the band wagon.

I am sure there are a lot of bleeding hearts out there right now for Michael. I have searched a bit on the Internet for news stories. I found articles about people holding vigils for him.
I could not help but remember when Jerry Garcia died and people were making a show of their mourning. I saw my best friend walking home from school, and I shouted out the car window to her that her 'hero' had died... and she shouted back, " I DON'T CARE " in a rageful voice usually reserved for family disputes. Taken aback, I quickly figured out why she must be reacting like this. She had been at school all day surrounded by hippies making a 'show' of how their lives would change because their idol was gone.

This little snippet could quickly turn academic, but I will get to my point.

What I mean to say, is THIS is different.

Everyone loved Michael.

The articles I found were about vigils being held and had pictures of people holding signs that 'the media' perhaps killed him through all the controversy. ( His broken heart was the cause and it created a chain reaction. ) He was our hero when we were kids.
I have always held the belief that he was innocent of the crimes of which he was accused.
And that's it, period.
I can tell you what I think of accusers--- they are guilty. Shaming and guilty and money hungry.

Now he is free from it all. Whatever he believed will come to fruition for him in the afterlife.
I cannot say how remarkable his life accomplishments were.

If miracles happen, and I believe they do... perhaps Michael's death will be a monument in our hearts to art, and a remembrance that the whole world can be affected by one person's dedication to their craft.

( photo: myself wearing my most prized possession from age 5 )

Ben Gay Summer Pain Relief Non-greasy Cream

I came home from work and immediately fell into bed.
I threw myself onto the sheets and blankets. Too dirty for the bed. Get out.

In the car, I was daydreaming of how this moment might work.
A little obsessed,
my knees jerked around,
left knee hitting the driver side door impatiently.
Would I strip the bed, put on clean sheets, then shower and get in?
Would I just sleep dirty?
Would I sleep dirty in dirty sheets?

And why do people in gold Camry slow down for the yellows?
And why do ford mini-vans drive thirty-five when the speed limit is fifty?
Don't they know I am going to pass out if I can't get some wind blowing in these windows?

What actually happened, I showered, and got in the bed wet.
I fell asleep immediately and for an hour.


I woke up and ate a sandwich.
I went to buy cigarettes and it was so nice out and I was wearing my favorite Puma shirt, so I stayed out and drove toward the sunset.
I landed at my friends house.
I announced myself, "There is a girl on you porch!"

No one came to the door, but the house was open.
I sat and watched the lightening bugs.
His son came to the door finally because they were out in the back yard.
We went to the park. I went in the front door and out the back door.
We figured out how to spell, "biodegradable" for the doggie bag dispenser at the neighborhood co-op.
We talked philosophy and played with consonance and also synonyms, and swung on the swings.
We 'wondered' if good old Dad was going to put a dictionary in a zip lock baggie for the neighbors to use just in case they didn't know the meaning of a certain word.
And perhaps, there would be a thesaurus needed as well, hanging by a string.

The end of the evening smells like Ben Gay.
I applied it to my sore shoulder and back, a top a sun burn.
"pain relief non-greasy cream" actually causes pain at first.
I listen to the rolling stones because I am old.

Train Crash Day

The train crash today was quite scary.
A few weeks ago, wrote a letter to my old boss at the engineering firm about the
shoddy maintenance at the D.C. subway,
I hate to be right about this one.
I really really do, and now people are dead.

My observations were not about the trains themselves, but other things.
Sometimes I take it upon myself to complain about such things to the management, and it lends to the embarrassment of my friends.

Who can find the management at a subway, though? And who listens to random women who are scared to ride escalators and ride in cars on the highway? Pah.

I just keep my mouth shut, because I could spend all day preaching.

Today at work, I told an eighteen year old that ' No one will need to worry about the economy if they are willing to work. I mean, the only people who need to be concerned are people who don't know how to work when they need to... you know, the people who live off of the system.'

He was horrified. I said, "not you."

" I am just saying this in general."

I think I am going to be a really delightful old woman one day.

Get out when it gets hot.

Oolay.
Sleep in new bed.
He is mad at me. He cried. He drove away crying and thinking that I was some type of thief or trickster. Who will be the angel of summer? If it is because the nights are short, we are finely woven into the silk scarf tying the sun to the moon that wraps around the earth.
Lapus Luzuli.
Earth rock of electric blue and flowers of orange, speak to each other about what is best.
I make tiny altars and talk to the star I saw before father's day.

Summer Solstic Solitary

Cardea
A handle on your health.

Hestia and Heartha.
Tea Goddesses in my cups.

Litha
Fire.

Imanja
Mermaid.
Yemaya
Mermaid.
Innana
Mermaid.

Hera
Zeus' big sistser holding a Pomegranate.

Gaia
The Dirt where the sun shines, for when you are depressed.
Ashera
Cats.

Danu
As snake in the water.

Ishtar
Love, War and Sex.

Vesta
Virgin.
Rhea
Uranus.

Plasma Scream and Dusty Mirrors

Yes. Holy Water, cup cake!

It is time for Overly Dramatic Day soon.

Privacy law says a conversation is private and confidential.

Unless there is an agent involved.

Recycling Florida

With love, I leave this place. I leave it. I seek home to seek freedom from curiosity, I almost say I have been a have not. Alas tonight I have everything I have ever needed. It takes courage to leave paradise in search of something deeper.
The friends who have become family are the most difficult to walk away from, rather drive away from. I leave them on good terms, something which makes me ask, "Why leave at all?"
Well, I have errands to run. I have reading and writing to do and dreams to achieve. 100% good has come from this place for me.
Lizards on the other side of the window here and more mangos than I could probably eat in a whole summer.

Arrival was hazy. It was moist and I thought everyone surely had an aura. There was no way that my eyesight could have been so destroyed at age 22. The first night there was a dry lightening storm over the ocean and I experienced my first tropical beach. I remember journaling as a hopeful teenager that some force might be able to take me somewhere warmer, where things would be better.
I got it.

I journaled for a phone number with a 9 in it.
I got it.

I journaled for a cozy place to live with low rent.
I got it.

I journaled for other things.
I got enough.

I could walk to the beach. I could have pizza on Sunday nights and see the whole 'town' gather at different intervals if I stayed long enough in my chair and listened to Germy' talk his jive talk and say the full yogi names in complete proper pronunciation.
I could walk to the coffee joint at brunch time and see the people with red bull hangovers from the night before with bed head and whatever lover they had that season...
Lovers were by the season,
and season was when the tourists came,
surely it was a coincidence because certainly there were no seasons there in Southern Florida.

Now for excerpts from back in the day:

last week at work, we had cops, clergy, and a stalker.
all unrelated.

is it normal to have car pool tunnel syndrome in all your limbs?

what about your head?
could that happen?

it hasn't happened to my head yet.

have "editor" privelages to most of my co-workers' calendars.

And it's not like I am bored... you know, I'm sort of busy...
but I couldn't help scheduling " harvest brains from the laboratory"
on my buddie's calendar.... and then I forgot about it... you know.

I hope I get in trouble for it... would be the funniest story EVER.

MY LOVE FOR YOU IS A FACT.

Jenny Say What?

Jenna Say Kwaa.

Talib Kwali?

Koala? Lee?

All of these things are worth mentioning. You know, sometimes, there are things we wish we never brought up. Conversations better left unspoken-- cliche', I cannot apologize enough lately.

Earlier, I spoke with a friend about this:

Should. The word 'Should' is abusive to the self.
I put my self on the shelf like a Russian Doll full of stories.

I run accross the room like, perhaps the sister character in Pet Cemetary who has spinal menangitis, and I knock the doll off the shelf.
And let me tell you, it is not like Humpty Dumpty or any fairy tale where there is an army to put anyone back together.
There is no shatter because the nesting dolls are made of lambskin. It just thuds and rolls under the sofa, I guess.
When I am mad, I just want to shatter glass, but I never do. I just end up burning things.
Things never completely fall apart, but there are a lot of 'shoulds.'

I stare at the computer like it is a broken and burnt crack pipe, open and shining.
I cry.

I try to look at the bright side. What I want to be when I grow up is a joy.
I never want to be a burden. I leave, I keep you at a distance. I only demand things from people who can't give anything because that is just what the training manual said to do.

I got here and had to adapt to the aliens everywhere.

If you tell me I am pretty, I try to show you the ugly side to see if you really meant it. I don't need liars around, or people who hurt me and then ask me to be 'nice.' This is alien language.

See what I mean?

Leave It to the Professionals

Display name.
Sun wash. Battle Rocket, backward cigarette faux paus.

Coffee morning dread.

That is my mini-poem of words that just pop out.
I don't ever mean to write anything.

It's not a choice, more like a compulsion to write.
Sorry to innocent bystanders of my art,
we all know those things we don't know why we read or look... but we do
and then it becomes a 'sucker of time,' something that sucks the time out of our life and then
we are just alone again with the computer and insomnia

saying, 'if only I went to bed at 8 pm when I was tired, I wouldn't be here... again.'

Pah.

I have miniature animal figurines with large eyes, like owls and tiny cats. I talk to them and act like they have feelings.

I am more alone than I have ever been.
There is no one I want to be near.

Full of hate and bitterness----- just for today

that is why I cannot wait to sleep.
I never thought of killing someone until this year,
I remember laughing in the theatre during Natural Born Killers when no one else was laughing,
when the earless guy pops a mouthful of ecstasy ...

everyone else seemed to be uptight ...
and I thought,

I have imagined things like this...

the dream I had when I was primal
living in the tropical forrest and I had a spear,
and I was all muscle,

I had to kill in that dream.
I did it with my hands and the spear,
but I had muscles that were lean and I could climb the walls
kind of like spiderman, but better.

Demolition Onomott Animal Consonance

Cinnamon Sugar
Robbery Heart Dodger
Swindle Massacre and Vibration Death Bone

Asylum for asphyxiation humiliation migration
Baltimore Tunnel
Is faster

Melatonin migraine fostered by neck ache a.k.a. 'pain in the neck'
originated in Washington d.c.
Bizzy Belladonna Bees sting left brain tingle (stroke) onomatopoeia

Wit for tasteless non sensical jokery and trickery
mastermind lobotomy.

Less than lists.
Pits of list.
Cupid crisp celery soaking to stiff,
Hip hop spliff.

Making tracks on bumpy roads and pot holes as smoke comes out,
touring the town,
ruined in rain.

We stood, we stood up and conquered,
and nothing gets better with age.

Soggy, foggy bottom, wilted and limp.
Tower of finance crumbles in demolition and ramen noodles.

Filet Mignon: The Place Where Money Falls From the Sky

'Over Ability'

Note:
If it is not in your bank account, you CAN'T HAVE IT.

Credit Cards+You=Bad

I coined the phrase 'WORD HOP'

I did this a few months ago.

Take note.

Watch it blow up internationally.

I am on the scene again schooling the new schoolers.

Junk Yard Browsing

I sang the Sanford and Son theme song
As I skipped my way through the junk yard with my bag of tools.

no one laughed except for me

I had a fantasy that someone left money in one of the glove compartments of the cars
and for one minute I looked over the expanse of cars
in the Sahara desert with the hot sun burning the back of my neck ( hmmmm... )
and realized I better get what I need and move on before the culture got to be

too much for me.

I did not belong there.