30 March 2009

bargaining with a higher power

If I get this job
in Italy
I promise to wear
fake eyelashes and red lipstick everyday
and never ever sulk and
Remember every late night
and write every letter
and learn how to bake bread
and return every phone call, and start
to pull all the days off my day calendar again.
If you give me some direction I’ll take it with bells on,
all forward motion and sidesteps and skips
I will buy fresh flowers every week
and have clean sheets and loose leaf tea
I’ll call everyone more and remember to do my hair.
I will
Open up my heart again
and let the good ones in, I’ll hold them tight and stay all night
I’ll remember to eat
and wake before the alarm
Stop biting my nails and paying late fees
If I get a good chance, if I get a small push
I promise promise promise to be happy again.

29 March 2009

locust plague

i haven't abandoned this space
i'm just been climbing up and down a ladder
and think its time to move horizontally

i'll let you know. you look great today, by the way.

07 March 2009

deep roots

excitedly called
my mother
to tell her
about the
sudden sprouting of my new
gladiola bulbs

"i hope you planted them deep in the ground"
she said
"or they'll fall over"

"they must be deeply planted

or they'll fall over."

05 March 2009

not me.

life is sometimes overwhelming. i am at a loss for inspiration. so I leave you with the first words of Eluard that made me love him, long ago as an undergraduate in the south....

La courbe de tes yeux fait le tour de mon coeur,
Un rond de danse et de douceur,
Auréole du temps, berceau nocturne et sûr,
Et si je ne sais plus tout ce que j'ai vécu
C'est que tes yeux ne m'ont pas toujours vu.
Feuilles de jour et mousse de rosée,
Roseaux du vent, sourires parfumés,
Ailes couvrant le monde de lumière,
Bateaux chargés du ciel et de la mer,
Chasseurs des bruits et sources de couleurs,
Parfums éclos d'une couvée d'aurores
Qui gît toujours sur la paille des astres,
Comme le jour dépend de l'innocence
Le monde entier dépend de tes yeux purs
Et tout mon sang coule dans leurs regards.

I honestly believe these are the first words of the surrealist french movement I learned. Beautiful, no?