funeral

I began my day with a funeral.

I woke this morning and walked into the room that immediately adjoins myown, and noticed feathers strewn about. I thought at first that one of my cats had gotten to my feather boa, or my new flapper hat with the peacock feather. I looked down and saw the small lifeless body of a baby sparrow lying against the wall on the rug. I screamed "oh my god" and instantly thought of it as being a negative omen. I picked up the bird in some paper towels and set it on the front porch. Fearing that the bird might spread some kind of illness, I closed the door blocking access to the feathers from my pets. I called my best friend and lover to ask that he be extra cautios in his days travels, and set out to find a shovel to create a proper grave for the deceased animal. The bird was small, so I was able to dig its grave with a large spoon. I dug nine inches or so into the ground, and placed the soft delicate body into its final resting place. As I covered it with earth, I wished it a happy return. Words were said in the small creatures honor....
then I went inside and prepared myself for another day.

ROODBLOG Turns 1!!!!!!!!

Happy Birthday to you....

Happy Birthday to you....

Happy Birthday to ROODBLOG

Happy Birthday to you!

we are free

I feel your warmth inside my heart
and the tips of all my fingers
the essence of your presence
is a thing that often lingers
and the beauty of experience
that you and I've created
and that which we have learned because
of how our souls related
so let me be your gypsy wife
and be my music man
we'll make the most out of this life
and be all that we can
and we'll learn every lesson
that this life is here to teach us
and when we wish to be alone
no one will ever reach us

elements

you know that there is something
that I need to vocalize
you've felt it there between us
and you've seen it in my eyes
infinity is finite
when each moment's lost to passing
and there is something in our reach
that we just aren't quite grasping
when handed something delicate
we practice our releases
and slipping through our shaky hands
we let it fall to pieces
and it seems that we're both losing
in a game where no one wins
but when I see it's time to fold
I throw everything in
'cause there are things I speculate
and there are things I know
like the seeds that we have planted
will determine what will grow
and I believe in something
that I feel inside of you
and every time that our paths cross
you've created life anew
and we'll just keep evolving
till the moment we expire
surrendering our matter to
earth, water, air and fire

City of Fools

the man I love
in the town I hate
well feelin' so bad
never felt so great
and all the things I am
and the things I ain't
keep comin' back around
just to set me straight

and I'm flyin' high
but I'm feelin low
'cause the harvest comes
from the seeds we sew
and I'd like to stay
but I have to go
'cause I'm wanted here
for the things I know

well the time was right
but the place was wrong
and the radio's playin'
the saddest song
and you've gone so far
and it's been so long
and I wonder when you'll
be coming home

now the girls 'round here
got the hungry eyes
for the man who wins
the greatest prize
and there ain't no love
but it's no surprise
try not to show
all the hurt inside

well the dice are hot
but the table's cold
and what's young in me
is growing old
and everything you had's
been bought and sold
only thing that's left
is a heart of gold

So I know a man
with a diamond ring
says he can get you
anything
but the things he has
don't come for free
but they'll make you cry
and they'll make you sing

well the canyon walls
are tall and red
and my papa came here
just to clear his head
and he felt alive
but he wound up dead
but I still keep hearin'
the words he said

change

autumn leaves beneath my feet
and each one that comes down
will be replaced by life anew
when spring comes back around
and music sings inside the ears
of those who choose to hear it
and change is just a part of life
there's no reason to fear it
and my minds been a hiding place
that I've been locked away in
so I try to clean the space
to make it nice to stay in
and I would love most anyone
who you would choose to be
and show you almost anything
that you might ask to see
'cause my nature is to love you
it's inherent in my spirit
and I'll have a kind word for you
if you just need to hear it.

Self Help Queen

the truth's no concern
you just say what you will
you're a snake in the grass
you're a poisoned quill
and you call yourself friend
but behind the facade
you have no respect
now my trust is at odds
'cause you put on a face
that is pleasant to see
hiding the anger
you feel undernieth
and you're setting your sights
on the ruin of others
all because you're
unfulfilled by your lover
and you need to take time
to reflect on yourself
instead of examining
everyone else
'cause deep down beneath
the weight you have gained
there's someone inside
whose imprisoned by shame
so you'll point all your finger
and you'll call people names
'cause you think that you'll win
just because you play games

the patient

here I am the patient
trying to tell you how I feel
but it's so hard to know for sure
if any of it's real
and you've got your pen and note-pad
to record the information
that you think will come in handy
for constructing my salvation
'cause every thing's objective
from a strangers point of view
and that's what people pay you for
so that's the thing you do
and every person is a whore
whose working for a paycheck
but even though we're being used
we hesitate to say it
'cause we're in working order
when our wheels do not squeak
and strength needs sustenance 
and so it chews upon the weak
and you'll take home a profit
just to hear a sad girl speak
and I'll be better off for it
'cause you've got what I need.

physics

Poets and Prophets
mad men and kings
speak truth to their wisdom
of little known things
on pages and pulpits
and corners of streets
portraying for others
the things that they see

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

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

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

Sun Shines

I thought I'd run away
but I didn't get too far
now I'm sitting here alone
in a Portland hipster bar
and there's no conversation
just the swaying lantern light
that's not quite bright enough to see
the words I try to write

sirens at my ankles
statues fill my eyes
footsteps growing slower now
'cause I don't want to arrive
there's fighting in the next room
between a woman and her man
it's helping me remember why
I'm leaving while I can

yellow lines are soothing
just by taking me somewhere
it seems no matter where I go
our memories are there
and I need to stop this waiting
'cause it's driving me insane
absorb the sun that's shining now
shining through the rain

the motel room is spinning now
from one too many drinks
not sure what went down in here
but something really stinks
and I'm trying not to think of you
and so I change my mind
trying to find other thoughts
to fill the vacant time

disappointment's heavy
and the weight is hard to bare
now I'm craving lightness
now all I need is air
so I point my wheels west
and head toward the ocean
sorrow can't catch up to me
if I remain in motion

yellow lines are soothing
just by taking me somewhere
it seems no matter where I go
our memories are there
and I need to stop this waiting
'cause it's driving me insane
absorb the sun that's shining now
shining through the rain

Little Red Studio

softly touching, bodies move
an air of beauty fills the room
and liberation's not a fight
where I find myself tonight
and strangers hands caress my skin
and take me to a place
that is so far from caution
and has no use for disgrace
and naked bodies soothe me into
natural states of being
I'm not afraid of showing
parts of me so seldom seen
then she leads me to the alter
to be worshiped by its idols
there's no such thing as jealousy
and no one is my rival
all ages and all colors
and all ways of living life
take me deep into their arms
and whisper everything's alright

confirmation

All weekend I have been intending to get here to the internet cafe' and post a poem I wrote friday night during an interactive erotic artistic experience at a place called the little red studio. The experience was quite liberating, and as I sit down to reflect on it, I'm struck with how little I'm able to feel that sense of liberation in the presant moment. You see, today begins the confirmation hearing for John Roberts who has been nominated to become the next Chief Justice of the United States Supreme Court. This confirmation process is the one democratic moment that will be followed by a career of judicial independance, and the potential for judicial activism. There is a lot at stake here, and yet Republicans in congress continue to announce that this confirmation hearing is not an appropriate venue for scrutiny over Roberts view on issues including civil rights, women's rights and privacy. If this is not the time, when is?
By calling into question the appropriateness of addressing the issues that will more than likely come before the court under his leadership, the right wing not only discredits the concerns of their collegues in congress and the constituancies they represent, but attempts to deny them the right to raise concern at all. Today is a day whose events will impact generations of Americans. As I sit here feeling helpless and anxious, people are going about their daily business unaware that their rights are being undermined by a religious agenda.


I apologize to those of you who came looking for erotic poetry. I'm afraid I'm just not in the mood.

-Jillian

kill the poet

I tried to kill the poet
by destroying all her words
but it seems the tearing
as the sweetest sound she'd ever heard
she can't help but see the beauty
in these moments of despair
with all her precious poetry
like ribbons in the air

I tried to kill the poet
because she stands accused
my hearts been fooled by whimsy
and my body has been used
I'm tired of her brave ideals
that keep me full of hope
that leaves me disappointed
so I'll need her help to cope

My objective self is killing me
torturing my hear for poetry

I tried to kill the poet
but she simply wouldn't die
she sits and writes these words right now
to prove she's still alive
I didn't want to feel the things
that fuel her lyric fire
I can't believe in all the dreams
to which she still aspires

my objective self is killing me
torturing my heart for poetry

I tried to kill the poet
because she's the part of me
that leaves the dagger in my heart
just to feel the sting
and my love is the cruelest love
that she has ever seen
she says his poet is her soul-mate
and I wanted to believe

but things are not in waking life
the way they are in dreams
and love is not the blessing
that at first it always seems
and so I shred the bounty
that she harvests from my sorrow
and silence for a moment
what will just return tomorrow

my objective self is killing me
torturing my heart for poetry

something sacred

Laying down in my bed at night to go to sleep, I often lay awake in the dark with my head reeling over the day, the week, my life-time.... Often I keep myself up untill I my body starts to shut down of it's own accord just to avoid that time. Lately, I have found that if I lay my body down on the couch and listen to NPR, I can manage to distract my mind with thoughts outside myself and I fall asleep with little effort. So, there I was at 2am listening to the BBC world news when I heard about the monkeys of Deli. They have bread out of control and all but taken over the city. They invade offices and homes stealing food and often attacking children. The people are afraid to go outside, but still the monkeys go unchallanged in this culture that has traditionaly viewed them as sacred creatures representing the Hindu god Hanomon (spelling?).
I thought this might make a great topic for a blog tangent, so I started thinking of it in terms of the problems that arrise when the things that we hold sacred over-run our lives. I tried to draw parallels to our culture, but quickly realized that while individuals in our culture cling to their own symbols of meaning and relevance, there is no one thing that we as a nation collectively hold sacred.

Let's take a look at the sacred value of human life.
Right wing Christian conservatives will tell you that the right to life is sacred. But despite the passion with which they persue their "pro-life" aganda, it is very difficult for me to believe that life is actually something sacred to them. If life were sacred, then the lives of all people, including the hundreds of thousands of innocent people they have slain in the "war on terrorism" would be sacred too. The lives of death-row inmates would be sacred. The lives of children outside of the womb... those in need of education and health care... you'd think those might be sacred too, but they are not. These unwanted children are largely ignored until they become old enough to join the military, and then, they are ferousiously recruited so that once again, their lives can be treated as expendable, and their deaths can be dismissed as "collatoral damage." It seems that the monkeys of Deli are more sacred than the poor of America.

How about family?
I remember my last visit with my father before he died. We walked along the docks of the marina in Laughlin Nevada, and talked about all things. At the time, he was very interested in buying a small house boat to live on, but was afraid of what my grand-mother might think. He told me that she was always so proud of the home that he and my uncle had built.... the home I had grown up in. He didn't want to hear the disappointment in her voice when she learned that he had chosen a life-style that to her would seem transient. I remember feeling incredibly surprised that at his age he still worried so much about obtaining his mothers approval. I have even known people who have been abused or neglected by their families, who still drive themselves crazy trying to feel that sense of familial harmony, that realistically will never exist for them. But does this need to be loved and appreciated for who we are by the people who brought us into this world mean that family is something sacred? From this perspective, it seems to be the opposite. If family were sacred, wouldn't that love and approval be inherant in those relationships? But then again, I believe that if family weren't sacred, we would let go of the concerns that make us worry about them... that makes us want to please... that make us care about those who have strayed into what we see as dangerous territory. Maybe our families are the sacred monkeys that over-take our lives.

What about love?
Perhaps this will reflect my growing cynicism on the subject... but as far as I can tell, love is as sacred in this culture as it is to the multiplying monkeys themselves.

So, how do we look at the situation in Deli. Do we laugh at them because they have allowed their beliefe in a symbol to over-ride the health and well being of the people in their society? Or do we admire their integrity for not dismissing their sacred symbols because they have become inconvienant.

Realistically speaking, I think that the best solution for the monkey problem is to implement an intensive spay and neuter program to help keep the population down.

It wouldn't hurt us to think about how reducing unwanted pregnancies through education about contraception could help allieviate the other problems I mentiononed when examining our own culture. Perhaps, we are the monkeys who have bred out of control and become nuisances.

But if we are the monkeys, we need to remember that we ourselves are something sacred and treat ourselves accordingly.

spun....

it's in the webs we weave
and the prices that we pay
for the things that we believe
and the beliefs that we betray
and we're living in a jungle
where we can not see the trees
distracted by the errors
that we're not supposed to see
and spiders are at work tonight
spinning silk by full moon-light
helping us learn how to simply be
And water is the blood that flows
through river beds like veins
rushing to the ocean
to return as rain again
and humans are the toxins
that the earth must filter out
but still she lets us live
and she will give
and she will give
until we've taken all there is
and we have worn our welcome out

6am

I want to put my lips to yours
to feel the breath within you
and fall so deep into your eyes
that I see things from their view
I want my touch to tell you things
that voices can not say
I'd like to spend the night with you
but night's turned into day
so we sit here in this silence

that is comfortable and clear
and listen to the subtleties
that we forget to hear
and weariness comes creeping in
and though we are inspired
I don't have the energy
that wakefulness requires

I want to go to sleep
but I don't want to sleep alone
why can't you understand
without you this place isn't home

everything is softly lit
this time will soon be gone
and you shine like the falling star
that I just wished upon
patience is the virtue
that I need to excercise
if you're meant to be with me
you'll realize it in time

my love will always be here
I hope you'll always feel it
my heart is for the taking
there is no need to steal it
life is such a fleeting thing
gone before we know it
I know there is love in you
but you're afraid to show it

I want to go to sleep
but I don't want to sleep alone
why can't you understand
without you this place isn't home

you take my breath from me
you can make my heart race
those songs you play for me
paint a different mind-scape

state of the nation

it's a great idea
and you say it's worked before
but I think it's clear to see
it isn't working any more
the rich are growing wealthier
by stealing from the poor
and those who run the system
are the ones the system's for
and the democratic visions
that so many of us shared
have been defaced by vandals
and they need to be repaired
'cause what we see is trickery
what we hear is corporate speak
they gather for their posses
those whose intellects are weak
they feed them their PR campaigns
and wash it down with booze
and make them chant for victory
just to see another lose
'cause their lives aren't the pictures
of the dreams that have been promised
and they've been told the ones who hold
the power are where god is
and they'll believe a liar
if he says he's being honest
and they'll make us live in fear
that the enemy is near
and sacrifice our liberties to calm us.

true love

I have finally found true love in my life.
My true love is a large wooden box full of metal strings and black and white keys.
When I touch her, she makes the most beautiful sounds.

I have finally found true love in my life
My true love is a slow lazy creek winding through a lush green forest.
When we are together I am at peace.

I have finally found true love in my life.
My true love is a floppy eared mutt with a purple spotted tongue.
She looks at me with love and kindness in her eyes.

I have finally found true love in my life.
My true loves are the felines who circle round my feet like a pond full of koi.
Every morning they gently coax me into wakefulness with their tender purrs.

I have finally found true love in my life.
My true love is a short tattooed blond girl who writes poetry.
She is with me everywhere I go.

photograph

they were walking towards me
staring downward at the ground
you were looking up to see
what might be coming down
and I want to wrap my arms 'round you
but they've become too thin
and you were just a photograph
that I was never in
you were just a song that I
thought I'd heard before
you were just a key for me
to unlock secret doors
you were simply poems
that I never thought I'd wright
You're the dreams that come
to visit me when I'm asleep at night
and I'm the leading lady
but my hero is a villan
and distance is the weapon
that he uses for his killing
your absence is the atmosphere
your silence is the score
and our love is the story
that I can't read into anymore.

Love and Trust

I just saw a bumper sticker that read: "Love many, Trust few.... Always row your own cannoe."

Isn't it funny when profound realizations come from the asses of carbon spewing objects?