a day

so it was good. i mean, it wasnt bad. it had its share of why moments but i liked ti. full. it felt complete with its ups and downs, who rides a roller coaster to feel safe. i dont like risks you say, but mortality is a constant risk of everything you know and could have become, and might become. no one knows. except maybe the grand mover, but he ceased further comment after the revelations. oh what is it he does now you ask? who knows. intercedes, maybe. perhaps he watches the dominos knock one to the other. finally kicking back and watching creation play out. when i was i young i would spin my self around and round in the swing, reaching all the way to my tip toes on the brink of what would seem like an infinite spin. i would let myself go. god may watch us this way. giggling when we toss side to side, amazed at the momentum of his power. a well earned show after a hard moment's work. do you laugh when i sway because you sway also. surely you know what it is to lose control. who do you submit to? if it is no one, are you really so honest that you need no counselors nor accountability? surely the bad has also come from you, the high counselor who omits only a lovely, lustful scent. we inhale it as reality comes, sprinkling hope on the senses. infinite spin. dizziness. desire, for peace, for wholeness, for passion. desire to have desire. it is, after, an acquired taste. 

carbon dioxide

Is living always by accident? 

The air is changed when we give it back, is that fair? 

We crawl as though we fly- could it be such a mystery that we imagine ourselves as winged creatures, that crawl through muck as clouds or waves of stars? That which is unreachable draws my wonder the most, taking my suitcase with extra pairs of Realistic inside. “But theres nowhere to go, don’t you see?” I tell my Traveler, “Whatever the sun touches is glue to what we are.” 

Of course, there are those who have come and gone but they never do return, maybe they could bus back to this somewhere if they pleased, but like the new where more. The one who did come back, I am told to give him my gratitude. In time but now not, I never shook his hand. 

spill

A game for fame

but whats in a name

Laughter just sinks into my pores

Toxic thoughts into a marvelous world

Red rover red rover let goodness spill over

Zig zags on the carpet from dodging what I am

An incomplete creature with a bullet in my hand

A relection of the chosen one I am just what I am

Give me sway towards what is you

These claws are dull from scratching through

The rotting paint that covered your portrait

Peirce the spot to discontort it 

my skin is a ziplock baggie containing my thoughts

I like the idea of aging with grace. wrinkles and gray signs of a life well lived. luckily, i get to read and discuss this in my feminism class this semester, and this is a journal entry i wrote for class. Susan Bordo expresses concern that women refuse to age, not recognizing the beauty of life, movement, completion. perfection is boring. we are constantly told to be beautiful, this one certain kind of beautiful.

What have we done to our bodies?

We have defied age.

but, what is age- certainly more than appearance

it is our life’s work displayed in crevaces of emotion

around our eyes and lips

here age speaks: “I have seen spoken experienced

existed ”

Perhaps it is wisdom we don’t want to live up to? Maybe looking younger demand less on one’s concept of accomplishment? Have our years taught us nothing but submission to the greater opinion.

We cannot escape ourselves.

i am not my body

i am me

Bordo asks the question, “ When did perfection become applicable to a human body?” I respond, “always”. No one asks for the face they wear. My skin is a ziplock baggie containing my thoughts; it will be thrown out when my thoughts live on. We have always wanted perfection because we want what we cannot have. Perfection is never satisfied and it is always changing. “You alter your body because I have altered your thought”, society says. “You’re wrong,” I say, “my desire to look how she looks is absolutely coincidental.” I know it is a lie.