for november 1998
december is already here!
o r n i n g
a y e r s
ain't much goin' on - whats thinking's
in my head,
kinda like mistletoes and just trying to slow down
and apparently there's some kinda election tammara'.
"What exactly does a normal child
We've long since passed the time when childhood was
an ungraded test - take your time, build your forts,
play your games, the clock does not start until high
school, maybe college. We give homework in first grade
now. We're very busy people."
-nancy gibbs, Time Canadadian ed. Nov.98
Finally, someone else has said it.
a shadow, it's me good lord, cast over
on that wall.
we don't see many shadows around here, being moving
people and all. but today we didn't move. we stayed
home and actually have eaten two meals here too.
when all the stresses of the past while are coming
out of me and i'm thinking, heh, i can almost sit
still, well that's the time i know i move around
too much. there's this race going on, to do the
most stuff, see the most things,,, get the most
out of life - well it's not a race but an ongoing
need. a type of energy, of sense of accomplishment
that only comes by doing. sitting still brings me
too close to what death might be like. you can call
it avoidance. i'll call it my life. but at least i
had my childhood, and that was a good thing.
E v e n i n g p r a y e r s
Should every day be a frist
every bubble be birst
and every twinkling star be wished upon?
why do they all have a catch
each stocking foot match
and a mother's words always ring true?
should all true love be found
every silence know sound
and my heart skip a beat regularly?
all questions get asked
potatoes get passed
and another day's said and done.
o r n i n g
a y e r s
S A T U R D A Y IN
I THINK IT WAS THE FOURTH OF JULY
S A T U R D A Y IN THE PARK
EVERYDAY'S THE FOURTH OF JULY
BACK THEN, OUR ENERGY HAD NO CHOICE
BUT TO FOCUS ITSELF ON WHERE WE WERE,
WHO THEY WERE, AND THINGS OUTSIDE OURSELVES.
BUT NOW WE ARE TURNED INWARD AGAIN
AND ALTHOUGH IT FEELS NORMAL,
WE NOW KNOW THAT IT IS NOT THE ONLY WAY.
i have no new pictures to show, no new stories to tell.
but i want to be here all the same, on this day of relative
and my thoughts, to share some of my brainspace with you.
there are those who take advantage, those i should not speak
of here, coining my usage of words like brainspace and using
them against me at a later time .. and those are the same ones
i will pray for on these darkest of darkest of days.
darkest of course by sunshine - er, lack thereof i should mean.
grey, gray, however you spell it, the stripped trees now exposing
amputated limbs once hidden by leaves. grey gray, on quick glance
it looks like everything is one color but that is not in fact true,
the shades of gray grey are actually redish grey, brownish gray,
greenish grey, the grass still exists.
my stomach gurgles now as i search for some life thoughts.
gurgles in disrespect; several abusive liquids i have now fed it
in a row. and it knows even that the rest of me is just barely
a new friend for the Ramona clan, which includes Roswell.
it is gender-neutral, and soft, and harmonizing. it's name is
Peabody Peace, a Beany Baby, our first, but welcomed as
a symbol of our connectedness to all things. ern is worried
that the rest will feel overwhelmed by a more costly friend,
but i say Peace has no price.
and so the computer room, with it's processing power pale in comparison, becomes the higher technology room.
happens is, gradually we evolve into a space.
when we get there we no longer have the ability to
see where we came from. we could do that, but why
would we-having evolved and all. well many do, are
still able to see all six sides. my fault number one
is a gross inability to do this. ok maybe not as much
an inability as a lack of desire. but that is worse,
in my mind. we were everything, there was a time when
k.j's mother was an adult, to where my eyes were raised.
in fact, wo, she still is :-). it's just that how do we
know when we are truly accepting someone or when we are
merely entertaining the suggestion?
the java, finally strong enough for
me, is working.
warm choclatelyness fills my senses....
of the one who brought me here, miss carolyn
and i, now go waay back. in her apartment, i was still
in sleeping mode under uncomfortable covers and she,
deciding which bag to bring to the office. a new brown
suit with a short skirt still had the price tag on it,
and she was dressing in all her presidential-nesse.
no words come to my mind now. oh yes
i feel the warmth
the energy which radiates around me, this space is still
my own, ours to share. but i am outside it now, perhaps
outside me. i observe and am observed. the nightime means
day thoughts run through my head. populated easily by worry
i own no crystals.
i am unafraid of fear.
i radiate life light.
it is there before we seek. it was there before he stood in our front, neither asking for approval nor seeking to touch us. yet i need his presence to become unblinded. spitterspattering along this life wandering in and out of his presence but constantly seeking. stop seeking they say, just 'BE'.
call him God,
is that musical magical essence which fills me up
completely as i listen, hear, feel, love, remember,
and dance ... all in one ... in a oneness i never hardly
know at any other time.
i'm beat. beat up. raw throat.
adventures come and go; all that matters is that we did them together.
both of the rooms black, with spotty lighting.
how could someone who craves change so much can need so much stability .
dream/young girl gymnast / we
were staying up the road but our place kept changing / we couldn't
find it / i invited her to stay with us / her mother
found out and was going to come and get her /
/people are untrusting/i'm not saying they shouldn't be/i'm just saying that i wish they could know when and when/but maybe me is when/i might be more open / and that is why she said no / my question tells all/ and so that is why the psychopath does what he does / i am not condoning his actions/merely understanding for myself how we can all be human/
what else did she say, something else she said that was exactly mirrored my experience. something i thought not alot of other people would be able to realted to and wondering how much our canadianism is involved.
Hello, my friend hello.
sure is good to need to so
i need to love you like i do
when i hear you say
money in my pocket
i like the color of my hair
i've got a friend who loves me
got a house i've got a car
i've got a good mother- /
cardboard masks of all the people i've been
thrown out with all the rusted, tangled,
dented God damned miseries
you could say i'm hard to hold
but if you knew me you'd know
i've got a good father
and his strength i s what makes me cry
feet on ground, heart i n hand,
facing forward Be yourself
yes be yourself" -j arden
she puts it as well as i could. in a slightly 'new' mode now, the only pasta cravings of the year come during this time. this is when time starts to wind itself around whatever is going on, pulls like a top on the end of the year, and sends everyone spiraling towards that time of year where it's ok to be a little bit zany. things open up, lines of communication spread themselves a bit wider - are we all inside now together or what? so it is true then, even though i myself always believed that we only opened up once the snow began to melt. i guess i must firmly re-think many of the notions i had been making over my entire life. maybe the type of socializing we do in the cold months is a fact, afterall. very very interesting. i wonder if anyone else knows this.
so yes, doing strange things like dragging
my boss to a pasta joint.
looking around me , ok, some hesitations about new faces appearing in my life, and facing yet again the world of men i live in. appropriately for international women's day i believe somewhere near or far; and listening to the radio making me cringe. not knowing if my tentacles should be stung deeply, and i should retreat in my cosy shell where MY life is OK, where MY life is PAID for, where MY life is comfortable, where MY life is controlled by me and me alone - and is it. then comes me outside my shell, poisonous fangs and all into this unfair world - or WAIT is it really unfair, fair, who knows, or the WAY things are - afterall this is the way they turned out isn't it. still something like of 8,000 abortions performed in one clinic in Africa last year all but one fetus female; and other crazy such numbers, but this one in particular cuts. overall, over the world, even before females are born, we are at a disadvantage. what are we going to do about this? let's remember that it gets better all the time, each year, a long road ahead of us, a battle of attrition ?
and then my female side says let them just be them. they, hunters of old, they, pride-filled and unsure of their place in the world, let them have themselves if they refuse to make peace with me, their little cliques merely testaments to themselves, into my shell you, out, in, out, in, out.
no, i haven't decided. but i won't let
anyone show me that the rules i've always lived by - perhaps in my owns
little space of reality - are not true, because they do exist in real places.
and although i left those worlds (in specific, academia) some time ago,
i plan to take a part of them with me.
yes i've got a suit of armour,
i've got bandages,
and a good mother and a good father.
r a n t
monday monday, so good to me. instead of assuming, i find myself amazed that i have access to heat. i wonder why this would be. it never crossed my mind as a child - but now the availability of it is directly in my control. outside that window, where the blue sky fools the unkowing eye, the foreigner, is cold. the man in front of the bank will sleep outside tonight. i, will turn up the thermostat. why this disparity i assume i will never know. praying for him is allowed.
so on a november 16th morning nothing much is stretching out of the ordinary. another busy weekend is for sure, visiting sisters, baking pears, dragging swedes from one end of this city to another. LOL. when is the time to sit, well that would be now. oh, and some television too.
this morning's caffeine
sits in the default spaces, stretching nowhere, prettymuch. yawns. itchy
i guess there's only so much to read before everything begins to go nowhere. well it's just my life, afterall. just my little pootly thoughts, no more original than the last and no more assuming than the next. bottled up in a small package we call poots, trying to keep the adrenaline rushing, the high of life, the same excited viewpoints i have always had. sometimes a shower helps, othertimes i'm not even thinking about it. sometimes my life is even ordinary, but that would only be for a short while again from monday through thursday.
so let's cancel the trip to TO, try to look forward to the other one, and muster up some happy webs for this day.
in our guts as they turned to mush;
the power of the first kisses, in ecstasy we stared for hours,
the disbelief at what was ours not because our love was stronger;
but because we were feeling it all - we knew then,
what was to come for ever, we knew how long that feeling was last,
we were merely reacting to everything that was to be,
all at once.
l o v e d u
n l o
v e d
l o v e d
it's christine habyrl's birthday today.
i haven't seen her in a long, long, time.
i guess she isn't sitting around somewhere reading this though.
i still think of her, when it's november 10th.
f o r e c a s t: w i n d y a n d r a i n y
life is circling me pleasantly;
amidst bizarro dreams and moldy geraniums
here i sit, chilled a little, but eager to awake. nothing deeply intimate to share;
these are the true moments of thought. the blankness that is the worry sector
of my brain smiles. these wet flowers, now protected from the elements exude
that bitter-green odour that tells me they're alive.
poots little arms stretch
out beside her now as the tall yellowing poplar sways
without sound, but with a rhythym nonetheless.
a little de-tached from what
is e-mailing lists and internet friends, these things
seem to happen naturally when life comes back. post-bonding at work helps,
movies which make me laugh, and friends who chat over the phone. what of
her anyway? the unthinking bond between us came from no-where. i cannot
remember a time when she did not feel as a sister to me, the tall one from
chicago. i cannot recall more than the initial millisecond when i first laid eyes
upon her, that she did not completely fill up a building block of my life.
like 'sand and water; and a million years gone by.'
-beth neilson chapman
you may think i see what i want to see; but who can dissect the two? if my life had lived out before my wishful youthful eyes, then that life is the only one i am capable of truly seeing. somehow, somewhere, you can attain this vision of who you always thought you would be. myself, i am lucky because my visions were positive, powerful, more creative than most. the gift i was given was love, that is all quite simply, love. this is a gift which transforms itself, God willing, into Californian excursions, work by day which appears somehow glamourous, a loving homelife, and now, towards the final stages but not yet there - frenzies of circles of friends who were not particularly invited to this event - who appear as friends because they are friends without coaxing and without knowing why or how we all ended up in the same place together but with the freedom to behave as we will because we are amongst friends.
it's a difficult thing to describe; the image i have and have had/ of how i used to envision - or in fact what was the reality of my parents and their friends/ who in the sixties, unbenownst to them/ had it all/ - without knowing what they had/ - which is the key/ - and which was friends/ - who appeared because they were friends/ - who had no other plans/ - who behaved as they were/ - because they were friends/ - and circled around each other in frenzies/- we just had to wait until the time was right/ - but for them it seemed as if it always was right/ - and in fact that was not so/ - for in fact they waited longer than i have/ - or did they/ - because they were not even waiting/ - they were just creating what came natural for me to see/ - and i am thankful for it/ - because otherwise i would not see what i see now.
because it's not a one-liner; there is no dictatum that i can give you which counts, measures, or divides into parts, the idea of which i speak. i cannot tell you that this is the winning football game. this is not a prize possession, it is not even abstract art, which one can hang on the wall, or prop up against. i can't tell you that 'it's great to have friends'. it's not enough to say 'there's kathleen with that guy i met at a party last year who she met at a party this year who seems too good to be true [note-whether this is all true or not is not the point] - and it's been far too long since we've seen Ralf the birthday boy, who still sits and smiles sweetly at me - and hey, look who's here with a new hairdo, i barely recognized her - but julie and graeme the serious but silly guy who didn't want anyone to know they were getting married off in a small country Inn only weeks ago, whom i still remember that guilty look on her face when she confided in me without knowing, that the two were an item, so shortly after she appeared in that company i used to work for. and what about tammy and roy who were also married recently, unsuspectingly in vegas! - who seem to really like jerum, the tall funny guy with the bright red hair, what did someone say, oh yes it was graeme - [who i can quote all i like here because he already vowed never to read the mEp anyways] - he said the big J was looking mighty dapper .
none of these descriptions are a feeling. no words i could write, a summary of the current perspective of my own life viewed from my mind, encapsulated in the memories of the heyday that for God only knows, i believe my parents lived.
it is truly, a miracle that this moment has arrived.
and yet perhaps it is merely
a very ordinary cycle -
hm ... that would be testament to what ordinary actually is,
now wouldn't it?
winter is coming, nearly is
here. a wing and a prayer
lands us where we shiver for several months.
curling up together against the wind,
but we're still in denial until the boots come out.
reality flashes return to
my life. i can see now.
i can remember to do things - i can take a joke.
or, as 'he' put it, 'you are more confident'.
yes well thanks to only you for zap-zap-zapping me of it,
only something very few few few on this planet can do do do.
so the coldest hug to you you you and i'll be on my merrier way.
we meppers have more sensitive bones than you.
bringing everyone around me
is more fun.
it's like my little arms can reach around farther,
huddling us all into a group hug of sorts. j
just a few phone calls more, and completion will arrive.
unclogging my head slowly,
caffeine drips toward my senses.
either my 'new' 'old' diet or this potent java has warming effects
on morning functions. the border between hazy and clarity-ness
gets crossed faster this way; the slow, aching heartbeats of a
tired morning catapaulted into bright-eyes with a monday morning
jolt. that's the way i like it.
so farewell for now, my healthly
ways. perhaps the months of
cleansing are all i needed, washing out necessary toxins. maybe
i'll be back. maybe another session will be needed. but for now,
i need the warmth that comes from caffeine, the familiarity with
which it alerts my soul. for now, i need the veal casserole with
sun dried tomatoes, the mashed potatoes, the glass of bordeaux.
i crave the camembert; the olive bread; and i think it likes me,
if i am careful. it all moves through me with a sense of winter,
a homeyness that i can not deny. welcome back.
i live in a monday morning
world. that's just about all there is too it.
if by fortune, one fine day, i get the chance to live in a world of morning
and evening meditations, sunlight warming my back by day,
perhaps growing yams by the causeway, devoid of the decarie,
perhaps then my soul will welcome the excess grains, the organic tea,
and the sea vegetables. but for now, i am here, this is my life, and the
harder i deny it, the more off-track i get. i can do this.
it's difficult, sometimes
to stick with what you know. when you're
adventurous, i guess. trying to deny yourself what you know best.
reaching out for that branch a little too far away. and then when you
fall and scrape your knee you deny it, blame the tree. it worked before,
you tell yourself. why won't it work now? these are my old tricks,
i know this routine - it used to be funny. the stories change, poots.
not because they change, not because fate destined them to change,
and not because the old ones are not funny anymore. they change
because you did. accepting that is not one of the easy ones, i suppose.
causing change myself means i'm in control. when it happens without me,
then we're all that much closer to something we don't control, i guess.