Monday, May 09, 2005

lush / i said / mountains green up again

pins / small sharp itchy pins
all over my skin / / allergy

but to what

it seems to come @ the strangest times
mostly @ night


(it's enough to drive me crazy)


& i sit out side in the almost warm of may

the sky / clear / bright stars / a million of them

& the 7 chakra chimes ring pleasant / fill the night air

(cant stop scratching)





& so the season / long awaited / moves too fast

as i wait

for

some thing


(the skin is a terrible place to be)






& i wait

for

you

&

some thing to happen




these days the house crumbles
meals are late / laundry piles up

you see

the garden calls / & i am lost pulling grass
slicing heads off of dandelions with my shovel
hands are now / permanent dirt / /

a few new flowers to be planted / but mostly
it's gardens to be dug / grass / oh mighty grass
you spawn your root deep & long / /

you see

a weed is any thing there is too much of
& there's a lot of that going on

i pull in awe of weeds / roots designed for survival

(hands begin to itch again)


what is it?

what is this that drives / drives / drives
takes me down this / up this / oh my head
spins in circles again / / / i garden to stop
the thots / twist of belly /


& i wonder where love goes / & where's it's been
& how my body carries a sick ness of mind

(it cant be stopped)


may / / ah lush / / what is this green you parade
in front of my eyes / / a stage come to life with colour
drama / yes / every time i see you / you change / different
some how you are different / / & i couldn't stop thinking about you
the draw of your hand along my waist / /

some where / wind blew over us / pushed my back against cool grass


yes / finally it was spring again / like never
before / vague @ best / words got lost between the scent of lilacs
& lily of the valley / i could smell sweet nite air / my chest swelled

not to be for got ten / confused with a point of youth
i'm sure was near dry summer / blue of lake water // no

more like a flutter / an awakening / when i turn in side out
with each breath of air
/ & i struggle to be in this moment














& i'm learning about moss / how it creeps in when the hard
winter for gets / it gets away / & there is a carpet the tulips
have pushed through / & i for get the colours now / for the north
side always waits to bloom / & i fill a wheel barrow / & where
does one start / @ one end / work your way along / one garden bed
@ a time / / & it's good to see what pokes through the ground / still
cold with winter / but all things in the garden persist / the will
to exist / strong


flowers are faith full to season / to colour & shape
they are happy to be / not to question





& so each passing day brings a familiar friend
a puff of purple creeping phlox / the shy appearance of
lily of the valley / so small & green to start
each flower slowly turns white up the stem / i once picked
a bouquet from my father's garden & took them on a plane
to my lover 500 miles away / / /




(skin still crawls)














& the song of frogs fills my ears /
there must be a million of them on the golf course
what do they call for /

a late nite lover perhaps

& he walks through the door / drunken
straight to her arms / he walks / tells her
tells her / / what ? wtf / what does he tell her +++

i've waited all my life for you
i can't get you out of my mind
i want to make love to you



(its @ this point i gather up my lap top & go in side -
the arrival of a skunk hastened the journey)



kitchen table / for some reason / i don't want to
be in my office / perhaps it's too messy / a reminder
of too many things to be attended to / like / my life









& see / i'm seeing shadows again / grim
reminder of gideon / / / & suddenly or may be
slowly / black moon creeps up again / & the crazy
knot forms / brain blackened of reason / & a need to
escape / & see / i'm the same size as you / thin
you were thinner / & it's good too see some weight on
your bones / bonny hip bone of the girl est sort

but the shadows don't bother me too much / only
some times / they make me jump / mostly it's
tunnel vision /

a need to for get / a need to remember

the cut of your thumb against my cheek
persistance of tongue / of hands / of lust
you said / do any thing you want to me













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1 comment:

Erin said...

I find myself reading your blog from a distance Jen, like reading a book of poetry where there are no comments, just a strange seeping in of awe and admiration that starts as a warmness behind the ears and lingers in a curl of the toe, and there's never anything inside me to say back, because even though I read - I share it somehow - but it isn't FOR me, and I don't know what to say.

So I hit comment and ramble something mindless.
*hug*
~E