this late month
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@ nite it rains leaves
constant crackle of
some thing break / break
trees dead broken lees
drop to the ground / in silent resignation
back to organtia / house of rot
earth waits / cold / always cold
like me
funny how things slip away / thoughts
memories dull / old pain
& i remember
folding in to you / taste of your sweat
sweet salt on my tongue
some thing about the smell of you
you know it was the first autumn i didn't die from the dark ness
some thing about your crazee mind
it's cold on this side of the sun
hands freeze / slow death to the hand
signs.
life normalizes / becomes what it was before
count count counting
time / so sure i've been here before
@ this late month /
winter is a lonely place
& the eyes begin to draw / chest tight
stabbed / too much tension /
& i wonder / was it wrong to love you
obsessed / died from it
& i think / of the field of crosses
thick green grass / pressed against your chest
my back / voice in my ear
but it passes / gone from this mind / a final
grasp at spring summer / oh it moves so fast &
where did it go / / that feeling \ \ never to be
contained again /
i wish ed a million other dreams for you
/ they fell in broken fragments
meant nothing /
thick drops of blood fall
fills the toilet bowl with carmine circles
stain
soul journey in a woman's body
what is this blood that falls from me
all words look awkward
death becomes ulimate pain release
body's train wreak i give you my hands
trashpo
Registered User
(11/14/04 1:10 pm)
Reply Re: this late month
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the beginning of this
lament
is very evocative
the story is sad, longing still
the blood bleeds a lot.
but then , it's a late month.
i lke the combo at the end .
Brooks Hoffman
Registered User
(11/14/04 9:36 pm)
Reply Re: I like this
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"death becomes ultimate pain release
body's train wreak i give you my hands"
There is a famous Urdu sher by Mirza Ghalib:
ASHRAT-E-KATRA HAI, DARYA MEIN FANA HO JAANA
DARD KA HAD SE GUZARNA, HAI DAVA HO JAANA
The happiness of the drop is to die in the river;
When pain exceeds the limits; the pain itself becomes medicine.
Brooks
capriccio dei juniperi
ankush
(11/15/04 3:11 am)
Reply Re: I like this
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
i like how your writing builds emotion. even in your plays, there are characters, and they are obviously doing stuff, saying stuff, but the way i read it is that all that builds this tension in the room it is almost palpable. i really dig that. very evocative. in a powerful quietly urgent sort of way, somehow the word rampant comes to mind. i dig that.
ms finch
Registered User
(11/22/04 4:50 am)
Reply | Edit
let me roll it - (heart)
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3 things i wrote down
respect is not an
option
you either give or you
take
i wish - an open ended
phrase - i wish
didn't make a poem
words refuse to fall /
only an image of eyes
blue eyes / intense / as
what is this longing?
distance makes her wonder about
blue white capping water
dark blue / deep / mystery
cold the water is cold
to day she puts on a red hat
to wear around the house
layers & scarves /
she thinks ' my husband hates me
no - he's un happy - '
& she looks at her hands
sore hands / pain shifts to the knee
side of the leg / numbness of the heart
mind /
it's okay / if one memory / say perhaps
of a kiss or a touch / makes you happy / well then -
no - she dies from longing / heart simply stops
all the other pain creeps up / dumbs down dull
does this end
they talk about death
you talk about death
i talk about death
dying is for the brave / the holy
i am not prepared to take that step @ this time
hold on / hold on to which is greater
so she does
fortitude / build a wall / defend the pain
read these words
read these words
over & you you read my words & remember
that maybe just maybe
i love you after all / mean words / callous come
back /
after all a dream is just that /
a dream is just / only
she can't remember the words
seems there was an image / a few lines to a poem
kisses / a million miles of / hold me
tongue darts from the side of the mouth
& yet truth seeps in late night twists & turns
shallow sleep
dark mare / right dreams of
white dress moves in the wind / buttons to the bottom / row of eyelet / stitch of time / give you this white veil /
this is the white dress of mary / this is the mother, the father / the holy host / virgin ghost / this cross i lay myself upon
epic story / intensity of lost spirits
when a body dies / it searches for
what? what? what am i searching for?
can't seem to find it / this thing
i've lost / misplaced /
when i misplace my self / i'm fucked
you need to find your self / love your self
no / i hate this body / this is not mine
instead i give you *my self*
i can't tell you how i feel
my heart is like a wheel
let me roll it
let me roll it to you
p mccartney
ms finch
Registered User
(11/22/04 5:01 am)
Reply | Edit
divining divinity defined - never
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& so sparkle of sunshine leaves
for a cover a snow / flat grey lite
where has this day gone / so dark now
for a moment sun smashes through the clouds
divine diamonds sprinkle across mountains
iced with early winter
but only for a moment / grey mist
snow laden / heavy sky sets in again
sun falls behind the tree line
how long until the dark days move toward next year
through the window / a painting
cedars dressed in hunter green / this is forest
wild cherry sheds it's last yellow leaves
so bright against sky
pale est blue / & periwinkle peaks
the significance of winter /
the load too heavy
my divinity elusive
Edited by: ms finch at: 11/22/04 5:02 am
jitney2
Registered User
(11/22/04 8:02 am)
Reply Re: let me roll it - (heart)
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hate to put a damper on your enthusiasm, kush, but he aint that good, all full of adjectives and huge emotions, typical teenage angst, but he aint that bad, either, i guess, and we all have to get it out of our system sometime, so i'd like to see some more of his stuff later ... like in about five years. and i really don't think your comments were appropriate within a thread about ms finch's poem. j
Edited by: jitney2 at: 11/22/04 8:03 am
ms finch
Registered User
(11/23/04 3:32 am)
Reply | Edit
just don't care any more
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my thots / are fuzzy @ best
drunk.
scotch & red wine
this isn't a poem - *a small disclaimer
tongue burnt bitter
lungs / stain
but the booze / some how the booze kills the pain
may be i should be an alcoholic / /
naw just a thot
check the doors
turn on the light / check the thermometer
on the back porch / 0 - it's zero C -
walk across the family room / lock the doors
my boots heavy across the oak floor
see - when i get up in the morning i get dressed
shoes & all / always / have to have / shoes on my feet
this morning i put on my boots / lace up with a zipper on
the side / not knee high / across the calves
/
i have decided / there will be no more talk of war
my husband says / the war is justified / that's just
the way it is / / i argue / / i am wrong
i have decided / i will not feel the pain any more
there is nothing i can do / hate is too deep
snow frosts the front lawn / edges of the stairs
along the drive way / sparkle / diamonds
hate this winter / / i have decided
i will only think of you / remember
standing in the shadows / smoking cigarettes
you are my passive verb / tense with
why do the words escape / this head is too heavy
fingers frozen / a series of incomplete thots
i hard lee remember my own children /
this mind is obsessed
whitetree
Registered User
(11/23/04 11:10 am)
Reply
Re: just don't care any more
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
still reading you
love the added movement
http://www.lulu.com/content/49078
capriccio dei juniperi
ankush
(11/23/04 11:18 am)
Reply Re: just don't care any more
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wee, all this stuff is really yummy! me jealous, get a job woman!!
ms finch
Registered User
(11/27/04 3:29 am)
Reply | Edit
two november nites - pianissimo - in o's
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edit.
end of november shows up
cold blue bitter
& it falls / worried
dry snow / a million million flakes
of frozen time /
this earth never stops spinning
stop / stopped - stepped down –
i wish to dis em bark now / this ride's too fast for me
street light wears a white orange
halo / eyes burn a glow ------ is this a sign? †
every thing holy crosses
along the centre of my gravity
the bit between ribs & hips
wear this cold autumn sash low
to cover the scars / / words burn holes
in my - in my - in my . . . i for get now
talk about perpetual motion
& honest tea / shot of scotch
to loosen the sole /
found on the bottom
of a broken shoe / /
/ stik.stik.stik
how the lino floor sounds in the kitchen /
*daisies in my eyes
yellow centres / white petals
i'm blinded by flowers *
just a moment while i turn my back
rip me to pieces / you can
turn the piano book upside down
& follow notes a cross (holy trinity)
the page / clef be comes treble clef
strange lee / notation be comes
a beautiful †
sound - yes / skips in to my nose / down the back of my throat /
not to be / to be / salt / but i do not / care /
b flat is the note of my soul
Edited by: ms finch at: 11/29/04 12:11 am
tearful dishwasher
Registered User
(11/29/04 12:20 am)
Reply Re: this late month
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Whoo-hoooo!
Your voice is all fucked up and wonderful. Raw and vivid
and uncompromising.
Cool beans.
Yrs-
Scott
Djuana99
Registered User
(12/1/04 11:59 am)
Reply There are these bits in here
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
that stick to me, sculpting my hearing, my feeling -
things like
& i think / of the field of crosses
thick green grass / pressed against your chest
my back / voice in my ear
This sort of patch - & such patches occurr throughout the work - ache the voice, internal voice like a slope of the outer - ache the voice & voices awake. The pieces haunt - there's ominous, adjusting power in that...
Thanks finchy
Dj
Djuana99
Registered User
(12/1/04 12:00 pm)
Reply There are these bits in here
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
that stick to me, sculpting my hearing, my feeling -
things like
& i think / of the field of crosses
thick green grass / pressed against your chest
my back / voice in my ear
This sort of patch - & such patches occurr throughout the work - ache the voice, internal voice like a slope of the outer - ache the voice & voices awake. The pieces haunt - there's ominous, adjusting power in that...
Thanks finchy
Dj
ms finch
Registered User
(12/20/04 5:56 am)
Reply | Edit
help less to stop
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
& so 2 am arrives again
this is the official roll ing
to the other side of the clock
if i know you / you will be up now
searching for light in the early morning
it will be hours before any light bursts through
the cloud cover
i wonder what the ocean looks like
on this december morning / i'm sure the wind
blows in a mighty tide / oh those waves
crashing
because that's what waves do on the mighty atlantic
black black water / cold / ice filled
ocean of death
think of me when you brush your teeth
think of me when you finger my locket of hair
you are an eternity of shadows & ghosts
cutting in to the corners of my eyes
you are the salt on my lip
pearls in my hair
but i did not ask to be possessed by your god of
too many esses - - i did not ask to be mary
head begins to cross again †
i did not ask to be saved
i did not ask for resurrection
on my chin a red nebulous growth
another zit
middle age acne / / call it stress
call it chronic pms / / i hate my face
as my age bursts for ward
revealing in lines & pocks / how harsh this journey
how little i've care for
this temple / oh my body / dwelling of my soul
8 inch rule on all mirrors / any closer & i could be there
for hours / trying to resurrect a few black heads / some dry skin
clock tics 221 am - that is late / it is early
this time next week our xmas party will be rocking
i hope i make it through the celebrations
with out a headache or stomach problems
or the sharp stabbing chest pains i carry
around with me so often
i realize i live in this internal world
always looking out / but now being in
it's all in my head
obsessive compulsive
i grow jealous of jack & jenni
i bemoan to her on the phone
the other night 0 i wish i had a poet
who loved me / who wrote poems for me
told the world i was the lite of his life
no / / the man i love / / the man who gives me all this
i can't even let him read my poetry
i'm most afraid of what he will say / / can't take the critism
_+ i think there is so much raw me in my words / he would leave
how can i tell him of other love
how can i tell him to be kinder
savour these moments / / i walk around with a lone
sad tired face / brow furreled - as if i'm trying to think
it's a joke really / i reall y think i bring him down cause
i'm so sad and broken and tired and low functioning
so we smoke a lot of dope all day every day
so we only sleep to gether a few hours a night
upstairs those baby's roll & breath and bang bang the walls
this knees and heads 0 it must be heads / /
the crash of a bottle dropping to the floor
all this is old news/ all this is just every day
every night all this is what talks me aways from all this
which i can not get done / i can bearly read the words any more
my hands slow lee for get the keystokes
fabulouse is how i wish to be
but my hair is too long and scruffy
lotso knotso - - it's long and beautfil
red - but it must go sometime it must
part from me
enough about hair
enough about me
you - its' you i want to talk about
if you would only hold my hands & let me whisper
i'm dying / may be you would soften
may be you could remembe that some where some time
there was lust , excitement . you stripping off my clothes
now i can bearly touch you / i am afraid of the pain
of your entry in to my body - now you see
this night has gone too long
& i've said nothing even redeminglee poetic
these days i feel more like a women who's body is failing
the pain becomes to much / / but i can't quite cry about it yet
i carry a worry / / the what ifs / / & i love to see my children grow up
i love to run away to the arms of the my lover / who only drink & curse me
and made me cry / & yet that is not enough / /
there is a death to be explored main lee mind
it ends on a strangulation
i know the beginning & some of the middle
fear/excitment
i don't know the terror yet
the horror of letting go with no struggle
but i know he would never do that / kill me /
for i have children small chilren / / & if he killed me
then he would have to kill other s
one always leads to another one
& then i would have a psychomaniac on my blood
i pray he kills no one
promise me i say on our last drive in to town
promise me you won't kill any one / because every
one has a right to be here - every one is a mother daughter
sister - - he just laughed me - - pinches my cheek & says
oh you are so sweet
i pray (whatever a prayer is to me)_ he prays to the right god - the one
who tells him it is a sin to kill for pleasure
/but it is / it is / it is the only crime he dreams of
what is this obsession i bleed nightly
jenninot
Registered User
(12/21/04 12:01 am)
Reply Re: this late month
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†
†
†
†
†
†
†
†
†
†
luv that
big hugs
luv,
jenni
kitsch
Jenni Russell's Blog
Edited by: jenninot at: 12/21/04 12:01 am
noverili
Registered User
(12/21/04 12:50 am)
Reply
Re: help less to stop
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it reads much much better to me when you use "i" instead of "she".
and this rang home:
i bemoan to her on the phone
the other night 0 i wish i had a poet
who loved me / who wrote poems for me
told the world i was the lite of his life
i remeber feeling this same thing once. But really poets are nuts, aren't they? and probably better to have a non-poet whisper sweet nothing into your ear really rather then say everything about you to the whole world, or to several on a list.
but anyway. I hope things are not as bleak as your poem portrays them, i hope you have the solace of friends and loved ones, and i hope you and your children are healthy.
all the best
n
ms finch
Registered User
(12/22/04 5:15 am)
Reply | Edit
stupid / sad / post / for a very ill friend
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i am touching the floor of insanity
& you are turning white again
face / eyes / your skin
thin white skin / you
blend in with snow banks
& i am in grief / a preconceived notion
last spot devotion
ah & these words look odd again to me
she says / no it wasn't a stroke
it's brain cancer / / he's getting confused
body an explosion of muscles gone astray
he couldn't remember what he was talking about
@ all.
& this bird thinks / / i'm the symptoms
brain refuses to remember any more
i can't remember / gaps
you are so brave my dear tam
just deny death / / you been there before
all most crossed over / / some thing held you back
i'd like to think it's because we needed to be friends
i missed all the rest of your life / /
eyes a burn / a twitch of / oh for get about your pain
turn your self inside out a again / just be
perhaps it's only tired ness
i'd say / you think you're missing a party some where
i wish i had a vood oo d all & i would hold you together
wrap a bandaid around your crown / & say / / it's gonna
be okay / just fine / just right/ right as raine
just as you will die / so will i / you will take away
my confidances whispered to you in quiet conversation
never a judgment - just you carring
oh why does i have to brain cancer dear leopold
why to forsake me this way /. / muses are n't suppose
to die.
oh what a way to end the year / ill ness / death
terminal terminalism
& yet i'd have to say
i've never felt closer to death than i do right now
some thing about getting older / body brake down
failure to for get / how organic we really are
cancer reminds me of mildew in the garden
leaf rot / / it spreads / yellows / covers the leaves
in brown / black spots / spreads like chicken pocks in a grade
one class / / that what the cancer cells do / they go travelling
hard living is just that
hard living is just that
hard living is just that
you live hard / the body prays / pays
eventually hard living will kill you
eventually hard living liquor swilling
drugs / ah the debachery / hard to give up
eventually hard living will kil you
& peanut butter honey sandwiches are good
i know i just ate one & it was very sticky
finger licking sticky
and now black beans & beef with cheese & sour cream
& salsa with a few capers for the slight lee diesle taste
naturalpath say: eat protein before bed
that will stop you from waking up
stop me from being to fuking crazy
lost lucid lee / the mouth never stops moving
nothing of interest comes out of there
just a repeat repeat / /
of - hard to control the pressure of all these keys
that makes no sense at all / one more cigarette to think
& come through
here graciously
mean while the turkey thaws in the fridge
ulitily bird / so sure there will be a wing missing
there is nothing to be transcended from this view point
i will never get there /
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