one long breath( opera)

can i tell you about the opera and how it makes me feel. can i do my emotions justice when i tell you how much i am inspired, inspired- what does that mean? to do what i wonder, because as the very first note is released into the air, i feel as if shall never leave the theater, that right here in this chair i shall take my very last exhale.but before i do my heart will take me around the room and into the stories of my own life i will dive in and i will cry. as she speaks to him in one long breath a hundred faces will come to me. and just when i think i can bare no more of her agony her voice will turn towards the sky and it will remain hanging in heavy air until someone terrified of what they have felt disturbs the perfect dark silence with an applause and then another.

memories..

...slowly she begins to live in the past. the funny thing about that is that she was not able to remember most of her childhood, except for small things. the color of her swimsuits, the taste of tiger tale ice cream, the caterpillars she would collect while riding her bike, the boy with the fish tank full of little frogs that she felt the need to liberate those where good things. once and a while a small rush of bad things would come to her, she would face them head on for a minute or two then feeling her fist fill with anger she would shut the door tight shaking her head as if she was trying to have those memories fall out of her, . slowly she found herself lingering in certain memories, she was reliving the ones from the last few years more than any other but this time she toke out all the painful moments and replaced them with all the what ifs she had gathered through out the years.

ted hughes

surely there has been a mistake. i am not from now.
but from then, a time when we introduced ourselves with our full names.
where we rode our bikes to our destination with ease. a time when he said “hello” and it’s weight alone would send you floating for days, nights and days again. where we danced because that is the only way we could touch, so we danced a lot. my memories of such time are not mine, they are borrowed from those who where there then and then was their now. a time where you could hear the screen door snap back as you ran out the house with your lips tainted raspberry.

i would have not married ted hughes, but would have surely been smitten and would have held on to his words till they fell into the library sink. yes, i could feel you trying to interrupt me while you read this. you wish to tell me that not all those times i would have liked and i understand. i thought about it as this came to me this evening and i know with that which is good comes things that are bad but i asked myself, what bad would i have taken for those memories to belong to me, to be mine, to have had the raspberry wiped from my lips by his mouth..

how can that be answered truthfully.

reflection

taking a walk in my minds path. stumbling.

hardly at all.

do i think about it. i think about it.
a little. just a little. only sometimes. very little.

most of the time i just remember that somehow i could see
myself in away i had never before. my smile i think about my smile. smiling.
i could feel it deep within my cheeks sent from my heart to my lips.
but like i said, very little. hardly at all. sometimes i think about the rain and thunderstorms. most of time i remember the pain. so much of it that if my job was to shovel it i still be digging out of the dirt. wait i am. like i said just a little. very little.

i remember i though i was pretty. but just a little, hardly at all. i remember the happier i was the paler i became. thinner. but only sometimes. i remember the conversion machine that existed within me. you said pretty things and i converted them to what they really were. little. only all the time well except when the machine started to slow down, then i held on to those words that meant very little. then they became big. BIG and BLINDING. but it all meant very little. so you see hardly at all. never really. only sometimes.

old

he knelt down and took her hands in his,. he could not stop the tears no matter how hard he tried, she weeped. she could not help but think how did this happen, how did he not grow old along side of her. he desperately tried to make her pain go away, he
put his lips to her ear and sang to her down by the bay as he rocked her back and forth. slowly her lips stopped quivering. his shirt drenched by her tears now, he laid her down and continued to sing to her till her eyes closed till and her hands tightened around his..

the lump in my throat grows bigger with every letter
i press on the keyboard. the world wants to change, it is crying out
and some people can only try to stop it with violence, blood and egos
i wish i could scoop out the ego within these men who get validation
in surpressing the growth and needs of others.

woman without a face

i think i am not good at it. i try. but it is hard. would it be okay if i was the woman without a face. would you mind terrible if i surrender to failure. i don't think there is much happiness that will come from knowing me. ask the others the ones who turned away. I am writing this and if you think i am sad, no, no i am not. there is something that comes from knowing my weaknesses and my worth in this world, knowing it make's it better then pretending that i weigh more than i do. wait i do weigh more than i think i do, so while i become the woman with no face is okay if you take my body too.

ugly ego

i want to hold the rain in my hand. i want it to not melt away and run down my arm. I want to kick a pudlle and i want it it hit something, someone- yes i have said it. egos are so big that the one's that hold on to them above there shoulders do not know what a mess they make.

no better than her or him you can not take your words and make them weigh a thousand pounds and believe that you will not crush anyone one with them. I wish i spoke a foreigh tongue of witches so i can lay a curse upon you, not one to destroy you you have done that yourself but one to build you into a better human being or just human. wait i know you walk around thinking that you are already there that is what troubles me and those who know you.

notes drift me away

i am listening to it- the music. i am getting lost in it's notes, going too far. It is playing for me and i am wanting it's waves to carry me away. I love the piano. love it so much i am afraid i will pull out the anchor and drift. I know now that i am scared. scared of both outcomes so i stay there on the dock that sways slightly from side to side- that is all i can afford to risk.

math

the other day while you were gone, sadness and fear came over me. a thought moved me to tears. i swirled that thought between my lips, trying carefully not to swallow. everyday i am near you is a day closer to being without you. is that true i wondered, i tried to look at it closer. a math equation. i stood up and sat back down. i dried tears as they fell. this is wrong i said to myself. why does it feel so sad i asked. why does it feel so sad.

the envelop

as she reached her hand in the mail box and pulled the envelops out, there it was she was sure of it. she entered back into the house and laid the bundle on the table. she ran upstairs, made the bed and put away her clothes. she was running, ignoring. she came back down and as she passed it she could feel it call out to her and just then she called out to the dogs " let's go out". she lingered and strolled but she could not slip away from what she knew was waiting for her inside. she opened the door once more and unleashed the dogs, she ran her hands under the water bringing her cold wet hands to her face, she let the towel fall to the ground. it felt as if she was counting the steps to the letter. she picked it up, examined it closely then ripped the envelop. there it was laid out in graphing detail what she would be experiencing, charts, pictures, it was to be more difficult than she thought. no where on those pages was it written how she would feel, how if her heart was to be broken how long would it take to mend, could it mend? would it mend? she place the pamphlet back into the envelop and walked to the table, this time she opened the drawer and place it inside as she whispered to herself "monday i shall know what i might not wish to know".

the train took her

i wonder sometimes when i lost her? as if that day my eyes were filled with tears that i became blind to what direction the train took her. I hardly remember anything about her. the clothes that hang all over the house don't even trigger the faintest of memories . she is gone. in my attempt to make her stronger i scared away. sometimes i think i hear her, in a passing giggle or a sigh but no nothing, for she was silenced by my naive ways.

Sometimes it feels like i am following her but how could that be i left her behind, kicked up dirt in her face. confused she sat on that train and now the train is gone and no one is looking for her, not even me.

family

my family. ours. this is a happy sight.
this is okay by me. this is who i live for.
and that is where my bliss comes from.

i am big in the city

but somehow while tenting on the ocean are walking up the mountain i do not think about it. my lungs fill themselves so much with clean air, my skin constantly exposed to the elements, my toes wet with sand i forget how much i weight. Perhaps it is the fact that there is no roof, no car to tell me how much space i take, that somehow i believe i am not that bad. average. Perhaps it is the casualness of a wardrobe how you end up living in it for a few days that it becomes skin, nothing tight or rough and confining. in the city everything is different for me. i remember, do you remember dear friend? the fancy shoes and dresses, the jeans with the simplest of white shirts. I am no longer comfortable in my own skin. i learning to like what is on the inside, but the outside not so much.

cold

i am laying down, air and a thin layer of plastic separates me from the wet ground. i can not sleep tonight, that is nothing new except for i am cold. i look at the dogs covered in fur and he next to me that snores, he is not cold. i pull the zipper of my sleeping bag but i have long ago reached the end. i move around and even stretch, i am still cold. i begin to wish the morning would come but in the same thought i think how if it does he will be gone so i stop wishing. for i have learned that with every wish come true another unforeseen thing is taken away. i am not to be trusted in these matters anymore, so i stop wishing. curled up now in the fetal position i do the only thing i know how, go to that place in my mind. i am warm there in fact i am on my knees, my hands and fingernails full of dirt. the garden looks good, it should i have gone there many times. a voice a sweet voice calls out to me "maman can i help you" smiling now i will no longer wish or think of wishing for morning
i like it here....

making progress

sometimes it takes a very long time before you can even move an inch, spiritualy. many hours our spent asking yourself questions, working a hard to find the answers and eventually answering some of them. sometimes your pace slows down to a near stop in the name of self preservation. then other times you can move miles in the shortest of times, as if much of the time was taken revving the engine of your heart then the time it has taken to travel the distance.

piercing

today i stretched my arms so high that i pierced through the false sky i was hiding under, as i heard the tare. my hands felt the rain, the rain swam down my arm till i felt it upon my breast. have i forgoten everything i asked myself, have i run so far the opposite way that no traces remain of what once was bliss. i fell down to my knees grateful for the light that entered as i ripped down what was left from the facade of a self imposed exile. I am awake you hear me, awake. have i no right for happiness...

a drop ( warning personal subject matter)

i remember the day clearly, who was in the house, the questions i asked and a feeling as if i had joined a club of some sorts. yet when at the doctors office i leave the space blank where it asks when did you first get your period? that i do not remember. I never liked them, messy always came at the worst time and mine unpredictable since i was never regular but to me that was sometimes a perk since i would often skip months. soon they would come with great discomfort and i could almost not walk we would cover my legs with all the blankets we could find to stop them from aching and sometimes invite the dogs to lay on my legs to calm them. t i would also loose five pounds everytime i got my period so it was always bittersweet. I did not know my body well was not in-tuned with the mechanics and naive to the functions of it, so when we decided to try to have a baby years a go i was naive and thought when we said goodbye to contraception( in our case condoms) i would be instantly pregnant- not- i i soon discovered that it was not easy yet every month i though i was only to discover over and over i was not. even when i would talk to myself and say nadia you are not just wait and see somehow the last few days of every month i would someone believe i was. One weekend while celebrating k. mums birthday with getaway in connecticut i spoke to k and said do you mind if we stopped trying for a while- let me be honest with all of you i had no idea how to get pregnant i just simply though i would have unprotected sex when we wanted and i would be pregnant so in all fairness to all those who tried very hard- i was like i said, naive. so k and i agreed that i could take a break and devote sometime in getting in better shape.

My shop was doing very well, i started exercising like crazy, my favorite was hot yoga loved it( and hated it too) i drank at-least eight espresso a day after all i owned a cafe so that was easy. my body was changing so much i had dropped so much weight, that my breast even started to change in shape. I also would get nausea alot and pull over on the side of the street but i was convince that it was my sensitivity to the new paint on the walls of my cafe. one day while going to hot yoga with a friend only to arrive at class and find out it was cancelled we decided to go to the cafe instead. we sat for an hour chatting and as my friends excused herself to the restroom i felt pain in my belly and as i stood up i discovered blood. I rushed home to tell k. he started to put things together and said honey you skipped your period last month as he kissed me on the cheek with his briefcase in his hand, he walked out the door and i felt abandoned and that very moment i lost what i did not know i had ( a baby) and what i believed i had ( a partner). I had lost a baby, how i did not know i had a baby inside of me would haunt me, a week later i had closed my store, moved out of my house and started a new life, denying anything that came before. i became a full time activist working on any cause but my own.

Somehow a year later k and i made back to each other, sometimes arguing who abandoned who, never to agree. we just decided to move forward. there would never be mention of trying again. when you loose a baby you also loose the want for one, that is what made me the saddest of all. that somehow i had convince myself i did not want a child, even though deep down i knew i was protecting myself (controlling the situation). a few years later k. said while driving, i think of having a baby everyday, those words shocked me, somehow i had replaced my want with nieces, nephews, puppy dogs and career. I told him i would try and we did here and there, but those fears came back and the feeling of loosing a baby came back and i slowly backed away again. that was two years ago.

A few months ago something in me my changed, i was ready more than ever before excited. so k and i shopped for books on easter day, counting calendars, i changed my diet, bought prenatal vitamins( it is funny how you forget everything, when you do your hardest to shut things out) we were ready! we did everything by the book in fact i scared my poor husband one afternoon when i stripped down and said meet me upstairs it's time! where is the romance he exclaimed? then it begun everything seemed different like this time it had worked, i felt it. I visited my doctor who said i want you to take a blood test before you travel cross country to california. i was excited all these events were surely leading to a baby. then a few days later i became a little moody, my body temperature was fluctuating then i slowly sat down and had a conversation with myself " nadia this might not be it and you will probably get your period" i was okay with it, i even shared my fears with k. then there was the blood-work and the new gynecologist. first the blood-work. the new doctor, i told her of our plans and she told me that she wanted me to see a specialist and how she also wanted to do the a procedure at the hospital before my trip, i want to put my hand on her shoulders and whisper in her ear it is all unnecessary i am pregnant. i took everything as a sign i was even starting to think how i would i tell k. i was pregnant. later that afternoon i picked up k and the train and he asked how it went i explained and somehow he misunderstood and said "you are not pregnant then" i snapped and said i did not say that, why did you say that. we proceeded to go home and decided to take the dogs for a walk.

before we left i went to the washroom as i sat there, i heard it, felt it, i stood up and looked into the bowl and there it was a drop, a swirl of my favorite color letting me down. i stood there and realized i did it again inserted me being pregnancy in every plan. how when we had shopped a few days before i had bought a couple shirts a little looser and how i picked up the two fall sweaters holding them up to k and saying these will be good in september for my growing belly. how i had researched if my trip across the country would be good for my pregnancy, how i tried a decaf mocha the other day, how i had gotten the mail and discovered the Rei catalog and circled that baby carrier and wrote for hudson or lucca (baby names) that was how i planned to tell k. he would discover it in the catalog. i was a stupid, stupid girl i had let it slip to my mum the day before that i might be and how we discussed keeping it a secret for eight weeks and she said twelve. how would i tell k now, then i heard a knock on the door "honey are you okay" i realized that what i thought was crying on the inside was me sobbing on the outside..again my eyes stared at the drop and then i said maybe it is the pap smear maybe it just a little scratch so i took some tissue and wiped and there it was a non pregnancy. i am never not pregnant i am always pregnant till i am not that is how it has been for me.unnecessary

the next morning i was woken up by the phone, " hi this dr, meren office all your bloodwork came back negative" she was speaking as if she was talking to an answering machine then " and you are not pregnant" she said in a tone as if she thought i would be relieved to hear it, all i could muster up to say is, yes, yes i know.....

the sun and the light

when the sun drowns out the light i discovered i was happy not to know you

i dreamt of you

you where not sick, not dying. I had a row boat and i was rowing across the country via highway( i know) but dreams have away. I was over protective, i watched you, loved you more than ever before. i was overly protective afraid that you will go, that i would let you go. sometimes you walked on the side of the boat and other times i tucked you between blankets in the boat, i watched you, i was overly protective of you, i was afraid to let you go. you were healthy not dying.

the sounds outside my window

the dark night sky slowly becomes a deep grey. i hear a bird outside in my bittersweet bush singing, one, two, three and then so many it reminds me of a school yard at recess. their singing begins to fade- three, two, one and none, i lay in bed thinking how odd it is and how i have never noticed this silence before. where have they all gone.. suddenly the rain starts tapping on the my window, it all makes sense now. the rain plays a melody and i must confess how i love this sound of the rain almost more than anything. before i know it my eyes begin to close and i am off too dreamland

happiness is

when you are sitting in the dark listening to music that moves you, but not to tears but a childhood giddiness.

happiness is knowing you made it through, through it. that you might have lost somethings on the way but what you have gained can never be taken away, ever!

i am happy and if you could hear my voice and see my face right now you would know it to be true for my heart is singing and it does not sound half bad!!

for my eyes

i sat at the park bench this morning and i saw jacob and porter play before me. tears fell so quickly, i could not stop them from falling. they would have loved this place.

i will hold on to this is one

i will not part with this tear, i feel it there just waiting to roll down my cheek but i can not let it fall i won't. i can not waste one more. see my body is my earth, planet, solarium, i must conserve, protect it, leave it for when it is truly needed. I want my body to bare fruit so you see i can't give you this one that is there right there waiting. i must not, i will not, can not....i must hold on to it..

the everyday

you are happy as he drives and the rain falls

you think to yourself that things are good. nothing extra special

happened today, no big revelation, no birds singing our presents

under a tree. no big declaration of love or deep conversation. no

waltzing in the kitchen or bouts of laughter but love, love for him

for the simplicity that is today

the blue slip

she took the slip from her dress and wore it as a nightgown, she had not expected to stay here this long but she could not bare to think of her departure. she slept somehow she felt at peace. how was that possible -perhaps all the years of silence, keeping it to herself and that evening in the rain when she let it slip out of her lips and upon his ears, maybe that was how her eyes were able to close. she lay there sleeping for a while till she felt his head resting on her belly " have you been here long" she asked "no " he said. she was thirsty and said she would get a glass of water" let me get it he said" but she went to the kitchen in her deep blue slip, as she went to get a glass it fell and crashed to the floor. she got down on her knees to pick up the pieces..

she felt him behind her " let me get it" as he put is hand on her back "i am so sorry" as she stood up she realized that the glass had also made her walls fall and there in his kitchen she was herself more than she ever had been before. he picked her up and held her and that is where she heard her soul whisper "this is what it is like, love" she felt so light, she was floating all around him did he see her...

what i do not know

i find myself with a paper thin heart today. How we fool ourselves to make things more bearable. yesterday i sat in the chair and i understood, how much i did not care for myself. How much events since my early years and a lot them in between has led me to believe that i had nothing worth keeping, easily disregarded. that on my side it was never greener.

i wrote about peeling the layers, they hurt. But nothing is ugly- yet i can't see myself in the looking glass- to afraid that i will understand what others don't see.

stone

i want to tell you everything. how inside she turned to stone, how violins scare her and pianos too. she wants to tell you that the river of tears is salted and she can't move on.
she floats.

she wants to tell inside she has turned to stone yet the day it happened she was not prepared and now she remains
stuck in tthat moment...

move along

sometimes i look around and wonder how many people wish for things that are easy to get, how we blind ourselves in believing that it is not possible I have always believed in the possibilities, layers and layers of possibilities. both my mum and my father had instilled this in me, yet somehow i question all that they gave up on.

Today while driving a cars bumper sticker read " i am boldly going nowhere" it scared me, yet i was curious was the driver saying i am happy here or was the driver disappointed. In my own life i do not know what i would answer except to say i hope i just don't believe in the possibilities but conquer them as well...

somtimes i lay on my bed and stretch as if i am trying to reach for something but there is nothing there except the wall of my imagination. Have i reached it i wonder. sometimes i find myself humming at tune, reliving a moment and feeling a pinch in my heart but when i think about it, it does not come from something i experienced but something i imagined.

to bright to be quiet

i am here by a window everything is quiet except for the sun. It has pushed the curtain open and has made my eyes water. I love the natural light i do, but today it is loud, too loud and it is inviting me to come out, when i can not. even sophie's bark can not drown it out, but together they are creating havoc in my head. I want to find a dark quiet space, quiet like grace, dark like grace.

aging

we are sitting at the cafe, his nose in and out of the paper.i
fingers play over the keyboard of my laptop half parousing the internet.

he: what are you thinking about?

me: nothing and you

he: nothing

me;(thinking to myself) i was thinking how the sunlight hits his eyebrow and his blue eyes shine, how the last fifteen years i have watched him grow into this handsome man. how is grey is camouflaged with his blond and it's beautiful and how the lines of his face has traced his kindness, is story how i love him now more than ever..

he: (interrupts my thoughts) well i was thinking about that girl over there how she reminds me of you when we met

and now i feel a string from my heart break as if it was a violin .

seeing

i have fallen in love with looking out this window. i tell it many things without speaking a word.at times it disagrees with me. but today it gave into me.

dick chenney

dick chenney "frankly" i think you should shut up

how dare you speak about the economy and the government trying to control private companies- you erased the word private, you privatized a war..you were good at it. tell me does blood pour out of your shower head or do you bathe in mothers milk. do you have little plastic soldiers all over your house and knock them down when your steak is over cooked and not bloody like you like it.

the museum

waiting in line at the cafe, i place my order the man behind me does the same his voice so familiar i can't help but turn around. I i have seen him before but i do not know him, i turn back around and feel him lean towards me as he whispers "meet me at museum, risd museum" I don't acknowledge thinking that he must not be talking to me. I get my drink when i look about he is gone. I walk to my car and notice a note ..please meet me. I think how crazy this is and how i absolutely will not. I start driving towards town and there is a detour that brings right in front of the museum. i shake my head in disbelief and whisper no, no. but somehow i am parking.

as i walk into the lobby he is there, if he is surprised he doesn't show it. I don't say anything, somehow i feel like i am in my teens. we go up the elevator the door open's and we walk into the exhibition. he tries to speak but somehow my thin voice says " please can we just look around in silence" i am awkwardly confident but not really sure. I get lost in photographs, artifacts, so lost i forget he is there-no that is not true i am aware, he is standing a foot away yet i can feel his weight on me. we go into my favorite room full of impressionist paintings. i stare at the colors and the people on the canvases i almost hear them. I notice he is not looking at them in fact he had not really looked at anything, he stares at me " why aren't you looking at the art" he replies " i am" i want to laugh-no i want to tell him that those are wasted words that i had fallen for such words before, used by bald hairy italian men- common words, common men. instead i say every museum has bad art. I excuse myself to the ladies room, i wash my hands and face the water is cold. drying now i look in the mirror i recognize her. her wrinkles start to fade her skin becomes pale and lips the color of early raspberries. i look straight at her, i tell her no never again as i walk through the doors till i find myself outside walking to fast to call it a walk i find my car and my salvation.

his kindness

i sit here in the car as he drives through the mountains. his kindness makes me want to cry. he good to me. i want to stretch my arms towards him but some how my body has sunk deep into my chair, my eyes are heavy and my voice to thin to hear.

we are at the theater now, i am sitting in my chair. his kindness makes me want to cry, he is very good to me. i want to tell him
but i remain quiet.

i am tired, to tired to tell myself that he is to good for me, instead i want to believe i deserve this type of love. his kindness a blanket of my youth i never had, he shelters me from a storm within.

three

i am three people, the person i once was, the person i am and the person i am working hard to be. sometimes they meet, they revisit their story with each other. they cry, they laugh and at times they run and hide. the person i once was often runs back closing her eyes tightly. the person i am finds herself standing still requiring more patience then she is capable of giving. the person i am trying hard to be well i hardly see her clearly..she comes and goes and often has light around her so bright i look away.

i am three people they share common threads all so desperately trying to be heard one so wanting to be forgotten.

the window

every morning after staying still i turn my body towards the window across the loft. my cheek layes on the pillow as i stare through it. it frames the tree perfectly and the sun loves it. i get lost in it, i am not sure how much time i spend there each morning but i know it makes me happy to begin my day this way. soon it will bud, then leaves will follow, will it block the light, will i see through it. will i be here long enough..

it does not matter, right now i just don't want to close my eyes or move in anyway...

happiness arrived

in the form of the wind it whispered in my ear
" i have plans for you" i said yes, please. i sat at the steps
and listened to it all night tell me of my great adventure to
come. excited i immediately started packing for it afraid it would change it's
mind..i had ingnored it once before and the price was great.

now i stand in the middle of a place i will not return to, i am happy, no i am alive,
i am ready.

the rain

this place is so different. i lay so close to the window i could hear the rain clearly it feels like i should be getting wet. i listen to it some more and i am jealous of it. the rain has such freedom, it travels all around, it's journey never ends.

i told him i think i have accidentally erased myself, he says i am mistaken i am shedding layers, i say i don't like it, he asks why and all i want to say- no shout is stop it, please stop it. he looks at me and i ask him if he is bored of all of this, he says no and asks why i say such things i answer i am bored of it, of me. i tell him i have nothing to give. he says you are getting used to this that is all and i now tell him enough, enough.

my hand is on the window now, the rain taunting me, i want to touch it put my hand through this glass because opening it will take too long

sing

he walked down the staircase and asked her what she was doing up she said that she had dreamt of a song and that she was trying to sing it. "can i listen" he asked she said that she was still trying to piece it together. trying she said " i heard it before"she said" yes you said you heard it in your dream" no before that she responded as she ran to her note book " yes here it is, it is from
the documentary man on a wire"

"..her large green eyes embraced me ..and when we held each other it was as if we were children planning our next bout of mischievous..."

why do you look so sad " it is silly i know but i always thought that one day i would wake up and have the ability to sing" you make others want to sing he said, they both started laughing as he held her hand and walked her up the stairs as they tucked each other in he whispered in her ear" your large green eyes embrace me"

what i learned in bed

my eyes open and i look around trying to stay still so that i can have a few minutes for myself. somehow overnight my bed has doubled in size, yet the 100 pound white beast has no idea since my legs are pinned underneath her. the air in the room is different, the sun trying to push the blinds open. i start to think about last night and how i tried to get out of going to the play till k. held my hands and said " but honey you love the theater" he is right. i sat there listening to lines like " my life is in you" and " life is not printed on a dollar bill" i cried at the theater, the play moving. i felt alive. i look around the room again trying slowly to stretch without stirring the dogs. I think about the changes, the deep shedding that has taken place these last few weeks. I think about how i was afraid to stop loving k. and now i know that is impossible but fear that he will one-day stop loving me. the dogs notice me and come close to me my face gets licked by grace and sophie rest her body so close to mine. now i think about how i was afraid that my world had become to small always fighting to have no boundaries but somehow the last few months i made it small, so small that i had padded the walls so that nothing could hurt me, betray me, lie or make false promises to the point where i had walked away from everything i loved and that loved me except k and the girls. the last week i knew that i was starting to remove the padding and maybe put a few windows...this morning i felt the air touch the exposed skin.

had a little to much

IT IS MURDER mrs Palin what you call
hunting. Killing wolves with arial planes, letting them run to pure exhaustion then you gun them down?
a stipend reward for each pair of wolf paws- in the rest of the world mrs palin will call that poaching! and who pays for that the government.. what?

"i don't eat veal" well do you eat beef hotdogs because that is a small calf sold and slaughtered and two days old for fifty dollars are less.

cheese and other dairy products are not so cruel.. really? cows can not even go to the bathroom in peace they get an electric shock so they step backwards and poo in a specific place..

i was listening to i guess the view on the radio.. could not breath at how cruel the world can be who are these women do they really represent all the woman out there

there is ethical ways to do things get informed.

and what about the water bottle- really please let's try harder!

lying in the snow

i could feel the cold through the glass as i sit at the cafe
and type. I am all over the place trying to find inspiration.
there is plenty out there, but i am a little lost as of late.

sometimes i am afraid that feeling so much made me loose the ability
to feel.

perhaps if i layed in the snow out there, the cold and wet of it might wake some of my senses, then perhaps the people that would stare out the window and point at me would trigger humalation or maybe i would just think to myself yup thats me lying in the snow like a seven year old. whispers of what is she doing, is she okay.. would be heard. as i would stand and walk back to the table where my laptop rest and mocha awaits, i would stare and no one..and simply proceed as usually. just thinking of it makes me feel free and different.

i need the winter and the snow to stay for a while longer...

stay a while longer

the lights went on

early this morning around five am i was driving home when i approached a small over pass to
my exit. as i looked to my right i could see a sea of school buses(hundreds) , i had noticed them before. as i prepared to take a second look all the lights on the buses turned on..it was surreal and beautiful truth be told it was magical...like a little gift to my eyes. nothing beautiful about big orange buses( never cared for the school bus i had a weak stomach).. i love when hard edges, industrial environments become beautifully soft.

charade

i swallow my words and feel the lump in my throat till my heart aches just to spare you from pain. i drive out of the way so that you will not be caught like a deer in the headlights. i bury my pride so that you can roar like a lion, a lying lion.

i sit in his chair and tell him i want you to hurt, why do i want you to hurt i ask. he responds by saying you don't, so i say i want him to feel and he says he is incapable of feeling..i say not good enough. I say i am tired of him, tired of talking about him. he tells me about all the women who sit in this chair who have a someone like you. that you are nothing special, have nothing to offer just in ability to take, he is mediocre at best, a charade of a man.

i say i don't want to talk about him, i ask, do i hate him, he says you are angry, i say i don't want to be angry he says you have the right to be..

brick

i stare at all the bricks they form a wall
it feels as if i have been working on it my whole
life. I am scared sometimes that it will never end.
and scared it will come to an end...no not really.
i take the needle that is the present put the thread that is
the future and i mend the tears from the past.
my heart only knew bursting with joy, never have i known this splitting
of the seems. never would i want to again.

i am scared today, a little for the wall cast a familiar shadow
yet i hear others talk about the sun. i start again brick soaked
with the moisture of my hand. which is the wall and which is the pile...

snow

You love it don't you
yes very much. what do you love about it
everything
like what
i like it is white and clean, i like how it is cold and fresh, how it's bright, the way my cheeks feel
i like the memories i associate with it
like what
you sure ask a lot of questions
like what
snow angels with my brother, six feet high walls, childhood igloos, skating on the lake, sledding with friends on new years, winter spent in vermont with dogs...
you are quiet did you not like my list
no i did
is there a but
well i did not give you any of these
why should you give me any, i am capable of it myself
well what i mean i am in none of the those
what, maybe not in this list your not but in the list there is me
the me that led me to you, that fell in love with you, besides are we moving to a tropical country
no why
then there will be many snow falls my love i promised you, come here
why cause i want to make a memory.......
that's cold yes..
but don't you love it
i love you in it...