Physics

poets and profits
mad men and kings
speak truth from their wisdom
of little known things
from pages to pulpits
on corners of streets
portraiting to others
the things that they see

my friend we have risen
and now is the time
the poetry's rich
and the madness divine
we'll move the world forward
an inch at a time
change is as easy
as changing your mind

when feet walk on ground
that is soiled with blood
a moment to reflect upon
the people we have loved
we're fighting every battle
never knowing what it's for
taking from an others flesh
the holy sacrament of war

Parking lots house oil spills
that drain into the sea
and no one wants to feel the weight
of their responsibility
all our heads are spinning
like the earth around it's axis
and all our drinking water
has become radioactive....
and blood it stains the hands
of the ones who remain passive
it's time for equal opposites
to rise to the reaction

disposable heart

I know someday you'll realize
just what you threw away
the passion that I loved you with
will be expressed some other way
and you'll wake to find
that you miss the time
you spent inside my heart
'cause when you were here
you were governed by fear
and now our time is spent apart

garbage

A year ago, two friends of mine went to India to film a documentary about eco-travel, and the people of Ladakh called "Living Ladakh." Their lifestyle is one of profound simplicity and compassion. One of the most impressive things is that until westerners made Ladakh a destination, the people who live there had no concept of "garbage." Everything they use in their daily lives is made from the resources provided by the world around them, and when items have outlived their usefulness, they are transformed again to serve other purposes.

Yesterday I went to the drug-store and bought some acid-reducers for my sour stomach. The pills came inside a bottle which came inside a small box which was neatly secured inside another box that was big enough to have fit two bottles. When I finally got to the bottle itself, it was stuffed half full of cotton because the actual capacity of the bottle was nearly 4x the size it needed to be to hold the amount of medicine contained within it. I threw the excess packaging in the recycle bin and tried not to think about it.

But I can't help thinking about it. There is something so pure and beautiful about living a life free of wastefulness, and yet as an american consumer, I have found it is nearly impossible. In fact our lives are wasteful from their very beginings. We wear disposable diapers, and disposable bibs and drink from disposable bottles. Every birthday and Christmas, our relatives shower us with plastic toys (likely made by other children in sweatshops) incased in protective plastic bubbles and cardboard boxes and wrapped with decorative paper. As children, we pout when our mothers tell us to take out the garbage, but we don't often consider that it is possible to live a life that is free of garbage.

Yes, it is possible. However, unlike the people of Ladakh who sheer the yak when they need wool, and dig in the ground when they need clay, and use the broken pieces of things to make art, we here in the west have no relationship with the materials we use. We do not think about the tree that died to make the cardboard box, or the laborer who picked the cotton, or the wars being fought to get the petrolium to make the plastic bubble. We don't think about the energy that fueled the factory that made the packaging, or the garbage man who will carry it away to sit in a hole in the ground.

In fact, in this disposable culture, we don't just treat objects like trash. The people who make and distribute and sell the products are treated as expendable human capital. Even the people who consume the products are often disregarded. Manufacturers seem to have no qualms at all about poisoning the people they serve with preservatives and pesticides and toxins. They do what they can to keep the prices up so that only the elite can afford to pay, and when folks get together to call them out for all their exploitations, they say they are unpatriotic. Perhaps they are, but it's difficult to have pride in a country whose war veterans stand on street corners begging for change.

And what about love. How does one approach the sacred act of loving another in a disposable culture. Well, It seems these days, people throw vows around like paper air-planes, and forget them when they become inconvienient. Even the purest of sentiments are often met with brutal distrust. Families split like dry wood at the first sign of difficulty, and children are tossed out to fend for themselves before they know how.

Someone once called me white trash, and I thought.... You know, they're right. I am trash. I have been used up, thrown out, trampled on and disregarded more times than I would like to count. But now.... now I think about the people of Ladakh. In their culture, what would otherwise become garbage is seen for it's beauty and inherant value and transformed into art. I may be broken, but I'm not trash. From now on I will visualize the shattered fragments of the person that I was reforming into the beautiful mosaic of the person I am becoming and remember... nothing is disposable.

choices....

The other night I stayed at work late to help a group of Somoan Christians schedule the classes they needed to take to spread the word of god by way of public access television. They were greatful to me for staying, and said to me: "may god bless you with many children."
"Please take that back." I said. I was given a very peculiar look, so I decided to clarify..."I don't want children." The man who had offered the blessing looked at me like I was the devil and, disgusted, said "that's a horrible thing to say."

A year ago, I was staring down the barrel of the whole marriage and kids thing. I thought about my goals, my personality, my desires, my ethics.... and I made a choice. This is not what I want to do with my life. Since then I have heard time and time again that the timing just wasn't right... that if I met the right person I'd change my mind. I have one friend who just refuses to accept this choice, waving me off every time I try to tell her I'm serious. When I went to her second baby shower a couple weeks ago, I realized that she will never respect my choice, and unfortunately, that leaves us with little to relate to one another about.

Commenting on how well I take care of my dog, my apartment manager tells me: "you'll make a great mother some day." Again I said "no thanks" and was met with the ol' "that will change" response. Yes I recognize that as I approach my thirties, my body will increasingly send maternal messages to my brain. I see this as nothing more than chemical propaganda. Isn't our ability to over-ride our instincts with logical thought processes the thing that distinguishes us from other animals? I mean.... if I listened to my hormones every time they told me to do something, I'd fuck every hot guy I ever met, and rip into every unfortunate soul who irritated me when I was PMSing. It's not like I am exempt from maternal feelings. I have just found that the best way for me to vent my need for taking care of something is to be a good pet-owner, and a nurturing friend to the ones I love.

So if I were to listen to others, I might come to believe that I am a horribly selfish person with no ability to discern for myself what I want out of my existance. Nobody seems to recognize the selfishness that goes into the decision of bringing new consumers into an overpopulated world for the sake of seeing their genetics all mixed together with their partners when there are millions of unwanted children in need of loving families. Am I selfish because I want to use the life I was given to realize the extent of MY human potential instead of hanging all my hopes and dreams on some smaller version of myself? Yes, I know what it is to love somebody, and the desire to use that love to create something that comes from both of us. Still, when I look at the man I love I don't dream of what our children would look like. Instead, I dream of the music and art we could create together, and look to the inspiration we give one another as the product of our love.

At this time, three of my closest friends are pregnant.
I'm not only expected to respect their choices, but honor them and shower them with gifts and offerings of support. Of course I respect and support them, but I'm tired of feeling like it's asking too much to have that same respect and support in return. I don't want to discount the societal contribution made by good parenting, but I don't think that people should be honored simply because they have done what anybody can do. Almost anybody can have a child. It's not a big accomplishment people. I could go out tonight and get knocked up and eight months from now have a big party so that all my friends can buy me stuff. I'm not saying it's easy... but neither is facing the responsibility I have to be true to myself despite the fact that most of society still seems to feel that a womans life is worthless if she hasn't given birth.

To those who have made the choice to have children of their own:
I respect your decision, and hope that you will aspire to be the best possible parents you can be. But please, respect my choice to live my life as an independant child-free woman, and recognize that my artistic creations are just as presious to me as your little bundles of joy are to you. I needed to write this because I'm tired of sitting by passively as others disregard the contribution I have to make to the world simply because I have refused to adhere to this particular expectation. I hope you are not all pissed off at me now, but if you are, you need to recognize that that too is your choice.

you know who you are....

I’m not your Jesus Christ
I’m not your sanctuary
I’m not your little vice
I’m not the girl you’ll marry
I’m just passing you by
on my way to the world
don’t think of me and cry
I’m not that kind of girl

I don’t need your respect
I’ve got my own going
I’ve nothing to protect
I don’t need anything
and when you walk away
just know I’m not watching
there’s nothing left to say
no need for talking to you

I’m not your little girl
I’m not your fantasy
you called me out tonight
just to be seen with me
I’m walking down the line
that separates you from me
you tell me every time
I seem so out of reach

these are the days

these are the days
when I stare at the ground
my head feeling heavy
I wonder around
the town that he left
to find something else
the things that I’m feeling
I never have felt
so I sit where I’m standing
to take it all in
pulled down by the earth’s
gravitational spin
and time’s running out
but it’s all that there is
filling in spaces
that used to be his

The Parade

mourning
grieving
laughing
leaving
crying
waiting
loving
hating
thinking
feeling
wounded
healing
caged
freed
want
need
silence
noise
sorrows
joys
shallow
deep
awake
asleep
jaded
frayed
broken
made
lost
found
free
bound
poor
wealthy
sick
healthy
tension
breath
life
death

aint that just the way it goes.....

The totality of my phisiological and emotional experience over the past week of my life has left my energy depleted and my mind reeling. The ugliest parts of my nature have been exposed for all to see, and the beautiful parts of myself have grown weary of believing in unlikely fantasies. I've realized that my existence in this world is the product of good intentions, followed by exhaustion and lack of follow-through. But the past is behind me, and the future is uncertain. Here and now, I must take a vow to never let myself down just because others have.

When I get home there will be 16 paws pacing....waiting for me to serve them. There will be silence. There will be no sound of keys in the door. There will be no touch... no conversation... no companion. There is just me, my animals, and my story.
I'm not certain I'm ready for this.

With the new moon, everything I've held onto for the last year of my life disappeared. It is now my turn to fill the emptiness in my own heart with the raw materials of my human potential, and recognize that when things come to an end, they make room for new things to begin. But don't let all this positive thinking fool you. I'm at work past my shift because I don't want to go home. I'm contemplating going out to get drunk. I'm just not ready to face the silence yet.

I miss you blue.

what happens....

I'm sorry that yours was the van
that finished the life of a dying man
I'm sorry that the road you were on
was in my native land
and I wish that I could set you free
of all your painful memories
but I really don't believe that I can

all that I can do
is to be a friend to you
all that I can say is that I care
and if you need some kindness
to help you make it through
I hope you'll always know that I'll be there

when the ones who brought you to this world
treat you like a weed that just won't die
despite all the poison that they feed
and the way that they can break you till you cry
when love is always an apology
you can't help just believing it's a lie
but loving them is not like loving me
I see in you the love you try to hide

all that I ask is for you to know
that all that it can be is what it is
what happens in this life
and all the crosses that we bear
we simply can't forget till we forgive

I know you've thought before
that a woman was the key
to making you become a better man
but you and I both know
that that woman isn't me
you must do it with your own two weary hands
you don't need anyone just to validate yourself
but you don't have to make that sacrifice
let tenderness be the hand that will
release your burdened heart from its device

and all that I feared
before you were here
are all the things I conquer every day
you gave me my strength
just by showing your own
knowing that there was no other way.

a moment that no longer exists

we stood in the tree
where lovers rendezvous
the rain fell through the darkness
as I sang my heart to you
and you held me to your body
and peacefully we knew
that this would be the moment
when one heart was made from two
then came the time for letting go
we quietly withdrew
and walked out of the forest
to begin our lives anew

Relief

driving fast in the suicide lane
nothing really matters
when you're trying to kill the pain
it swells up in my belly
and wreaks havoc on my brain
and the smiles that are expected
must be given with a strain

here I am a woman
whose body's growing numb
and pain pills are the soldiers
that make the enemy succumb
and mercy is a beggar
with noting left to give
I try not to begrudge this life
that hurts so much to live

as everything grows quiet now
think I might just melt
relief contrasts so sharply
with the worst pain I have ever felt
and sleep will soon envelope me
and I almost want to pray
that dreams who come to visit me
will have nice things to say

visions

I'd like to run away with you
I'd take you by the hand
our only destination
where the heavens meet the land
and we'd let the winds take us to
wherever we belong
and listen to our whims as we
have listened to the gypsies song
and when the road is getting hard
and when the nights are cold
we'll have the warmth of our two hearts
and one anothers bodies to hold
and we'll finally find forgiveness
and turn it on ourselves
because the anger we direct inside
hurts worse than anybody else
so I'll let you see my vision
because I want you to be there
so I can look into your eyes
and run my fingers through your hair
in tall grass the sun will kiss our skin
and at last we will forget to care
with no reason to know the time
'cause we don't need to be nowhere
and here my journey's just begining
so please don't let yours end
there's nothing I'd like more than to
see the world with my favorite friend

peeling

this separation feels like peeling
as you pull yourself away
and for all the time that I've spent healing
emptiness still found a way
and now my mind is reeling
and I'm trying to make my way
and everything is closing in
as I wake to greet the day

I dreamed I had a ball of light
that I was meant to give you
the moment you slipped off into the night
I wasn't sure I'd live through
so I sat upon the desert floor
and I cupped it in my hands
and as the glow slowly died
I just tucked it inside
and surrendered to the darkness
that had blanketed the land

and I wish that you could help me see
because I still don't understand
why I can't be the woman who
can soften the heart of this hardened man
so I'll be a friend of silence
until I hear your voice again
because all the pain of loving you
is worth it in the end

listen

listening to the sound
of the rain outside my window
up all night again
head awake upon my pillow
and paper light falls softly
to illuminate the night
and I wish that I could find a way
to make all that is wrong go right

and the wind it seems important
if you listen to the trees
it drives the rain down to their roots
and winds its way through new spring leaves
and it whispers like a secret
things that every body knows
that the bounty of the havest
depends upon the seeds one sews

and the right thing is subjective
it can not be written out
it's all based on ones perspective
our own hopes and fears and doubts
but when no one seems to listen
it doesn't mean you have to shout
just let your strength be letting go
of things you'll learn to live without.

elevated

my eyes see through key-holes
to places we've locked away
we'll throw away the key, so we
can save it for another day
and what is flowing through us
I almost wish that it could stay
but it's fleeting as the smoke
that rises up and fades away

and the beauty of this moment
doesn't live in when or then
it only reaches back to us
when we're true with ourselves again
and as the world turns round and round
I'm caught up in its spin
and I'm happy to be on this ride
telling a story that never ends

yeah the world gets caught in sorrow
it's a brutal occupation
seperating lives from their tomorrows
and we say it's in the name of their salvation
but when you look into the eyes
of the ones who tell the lies
their profit is our slow deterioration
I won't apologize
'cause it's not me whose in disguise
I'm just looking for a kind communication

and the pages keep on turning
and we're thinking as we go
speculating on the things
that nobody will ever know
and holding onto something
can be fixed by letting go
and letting others see the things
that we're afraid of letting show

I feel the deepest part of night
inside my frontal lobe
imagining myself in every
hidden corner of the globe
and I'll walk through foreign streets
like I couldn't miss a beat
untill my body tells me just to wander
because the making of my way
and the fresh start of each new day
keeps my mind fulfilled with things to ponder.

January

January stole the lives
of so many men I've loved
you're waiting for the girl who'll yank
your heart out from above
and I'm waiting in your shadow
and I'm drowning in my love
searching for the air to breathe
knowing that you're bound to leave
uncertain what to do with what I have

So what does happy mean to you?
is it something that you fear?
What would you do if you found out
that happiness awaits you here?
Would you push it away
and crawl back in the cave
hat shelters you from harm?
Do you think that I could coax you out
with my twisted kind of charm?
It's nothing if not genuine
there's no need for alarm

and baby I could hold you till
your nightmares go away
and wake to give you what you need
to make it through your day
I'm not trying to control you
I only wish to know you
and to love you in my very special way

So I'm trying to stay strong
but it's hard to play along
with games whose rules I always seem to break
so I try to hold it in
but it's giving me the spins
eyes grow dark while my body starts to shake
and it really brings no comfort
that there's others in this world
none of them will ever get
this crazy little girl
but still I walk with confidence
because I know it's true
that underneath your thickest skin
you love me as much as I love you

dried and cracked

living on land
once carved by ice
now they've covered it with concrete
and they've jacked up the price
and the earth shakes just to break it loose
volcanos erupt to blow off steam
and if our mother had a voice
she'd use it now to scream
so we'll work most our lives
to pay for a box
where we can hide from the world
behind doors with big locks
and it makes us feel safe
but there's nowhere to hide
if nature wants to take us
she'll just call upon the tide
she'll call upon the winds to blow
she'll cry out to the rain
the sun will dry our bodies out
and turn them into clay again
so we all take our pills
just to fit into
a world that we weren't made for
and all the time to live our lives
must be bought and paid for
and the words to express
the things that are wrong
are the kind you could be slayed for
so shut your mouth
and hold it in
the next work day
will soon begin
and after all, that's what you're paid for.

feelings for blue

I feel your presance when you're not around
I'm reaching into solid earth
to see what's underground
and I'm finding things that are burried there
just waiting to be found
and you know as well as I do
that hearts don't speak the language of our minds
never doing what we tell them to
causing knots to form along our spines
I've watched you from a distance
I've felt you in my being
your music lives inside my head
your body moves inside of me
and we're determined to stay free
but what does that really mean
I thank you for the things you've helped me see
and for how kind and loving you have been
and maybe there's no box to fit
whatever we have to hold
there isn't a label to place on it
that could convey what needs to be told
so lay with me
and sleep and dream
let's not think too much about
the heartache we've both seen
it's enough for me to watch you breathe
and listen to you sing
I won't ask you to change yourself
on account of me
or expect you to rearrange
the order of your dreams
with chaos on our bodies
and scorpio in our suns
what we've set in motion
crazy beautiful and fun
it's not a thing to burden hearts
or make us come undone
it's a breeze across our faces
the fresh air we've both been craving
an outlet for all the secret
passions we've been saving
and with the moans your touch creates
my voice is finally heard
you listen to my body
you listen to my words
and when your roots have been dug up
and you find yourself alone
my space and I will welcome you
to call our air your own.

here and now

my heart is racing
and I'm seeing things clear
I've been searching for something
that has always been here
the time is right now
and I draw a breath in
mindful as I
release it again
and the wind strokes our faces
and rain soaks our feet
and fire turns matter
to smoke, ash and heat
and earth reaches out
to give all that we need
then we turn it around
and we cut it all down
and replace all its life with concrete
and it's so hard to find
just a little peace of mind
waking each day in this world
and with all that I do
and the things I've been through
they still treat me like I'm just a girl
so I look deep inside
where there's nowhere to hide
and I've finally found where I am
It's here and it's now
and it don't matter how
we're all doing the best that we can.

in my mind

fair weather friends

and a stiff enough drink

can see me through times

when I don't need to think

when good dreams hurt worse

than bad ones ever dare

when I rise to find that my waking time

is the real nightmare

and you're telling me things

that you've said a thousand times

just to make sure

that they're cemented in my mind

your border's ever present

and I just can't find the words

to help you listen to the things

that I need to be heard

so take whatever 's left of me

and wash it from your hands

my feet will find a path alone

without a home

without a plan

I may not know just what I need

but it isn't false security

falling from your wreckage

without a place to land

and my father and my mother

and my sister and my brothers

we've all danced this fine dance all our lives

taking every step

not to miss a beat

while our feet are being cut with tiny knives

and it hurts too much to bare

but everybody's there

just watching for your wounded feet to stumble

but with the weight of their eyes

and their ambivalent sighs

it takes all the strength I have to not just crumble

and I'm thinking as I'm spinning

going back to the begining

where we never really had a strong foundation

and though I tried to make it home

I see you'd rather be alone

and I'm sorry for the miscommunication.