All posts tagged: life

Time in a Bottle…

It’s hard to pick up writing again. For me, journaling is not an old friend who  (though years may have passed) you can sit and sip coffee with like no time has turned at all. No, writing remembers…. So, I apologize if this is the other side of eloquent. I have been working pretty non-stop for about a year, with but a few breaks in between, and though I am grateful, I can’t help but feel worn. This January we moved to Houston and have just gotten the chance to settle in to our little apartment with our equally little family. I am savoring all of these moments. These moments of early morning coffee, of the light casting an effervescent glow on the hardwood floors, of the smell of mint and rosemary perfuming the kitchen, of dinners eaten around the coffee table (because we haven’t gotten around to finding one for the kitchen just yet), of midday walks, and of late night conversations talking about everything, saying nothing. These moments of just living. And breathing. …

Daily Business of Living

 “The life of a poet oscillates between ecstasy and agony, and what mitigates those extremes is the necessary daily business of living.” Louise Glück, from “Internal Taperstries,” by William Giraldi, Poets and Writers (vol. 42, no. 5, September/October 2014)   This is always how it goes,  I write: “I haven’t had time to write.” But there is something I never really realized…. inspiration takes time. It takes hours, days, maybe weeks of meditation to quiet the mind, to actually think thoughts that don’t involve task-oriented motions. Time is something I haven’t had a lot of lately, I feel like a top spinning straight into the ground…. By week, I am in an archaeology intern out in west Texas working on a rather amazing project, and by the weekend, I gather my things (dirt still on my face) and drive back to Austin to make and sell WR & my handmade Pierogi (Polish style dumplings) at the farmers markets here. It’s been quite hectic, but manageable and now I have a week back in Austin. I’ve …

The Reasons Why I’m Leaving

Because I tried to wear another’s ring But it burned me Because I show her your picture everyday Because we picked out funeral plots And joked like the jokeWasn’t ours Because the smile on my face is feigned Because Annie’s too young to understand That she has your eyes Because the closet smells like tobacco and patchouli When I open the doors Because I hear you in my head laughing when I think of something funny Because I always seem to forget where I’m driving to Because she folds clothes onto Her paper dolls and walks them into the fire Because sadness is selfish And new shoes are expensive Because I spend my days in listless Envy for the end that came to you, but not to me. Because I’m nothing but a half-human, half-venlafaxine Drone standing on legs I had forgotten I had Keeping your grave decorated because It feels like home Because my fidelity wasn’t forced And now I can’t be free Because I spent 25 years Killing time, And now it’s killing …

Life, Death, & Hospital Dinners

There’s that smell                                  That pale green laughter That chokes your throat Translucent yellow walls Glowing under florescent lights That will cut you out of Tourniquets and into heaven. The woman with the chipped nails and Painted smile holds a tray filled With today’s fate: a slew of pale things Grey peas, stiff meat, and something they Call potatoes Ladled with orange petroleum And she says, enjoy And I thank her As such a courteous fool does Ted Bundy got steak And eggs before he died Could I have not made the same Request? When the mind turns to mush That’s all They care to feed you I proceed with futile attempts To stab at the peas of Government sympathy With something that is neither A spoon, nor a fork Enjoy, indeed. But here I sit, propped up by Starchy pillows not meant for rest The flowers on the table have turned Pungent, and the pictures of smiling People I no longer recognize Have abandoned me just as my mind Has them And I’m sure …

Summer Thus Far…

Talked to a friend on the phone, told her I’d forgotten how to write. It’s true. Maybe it’s just that I have nothing to say really. Who is it I’m speaking to now, exactly? I’ve been told too often that I’m overly vague. But my life isn’t exactly something that can entertain pages upon pages, or even a handful of people really. To be honest, it’s just scraps, feathered pieces of paper torn on each end. Sometimes I wonder why I even write things here…. And then I remember: because it feels good to write things down. Put words down on a page that only really half-exists. Anyway, back to the content of my life, I’m ambiguous and indistinct. Maybe that’s why I’ve taken to poems. The right people to seem to understand them (or at least in my mind they do.) It’s like a type of codex; poems unite likewise minds flowing down the current of the universe. But in attempt to be a little less vague, let me share a little piece of …

Nothing More to Want

I sit & watch the dawn creep Through under the door The tin roof flapping like a starved lark Breathing air into a set of broken lungs My hands stay warm around my glass And I take notice: I am whole There’ s nothing more to want, & if that’s so, there’s nothing left. I’ve escaped to towns that No one comes from Babies born on the road to Unburdened mothers It’s a half-handed happiness To have nothing more to want Laying on the floor of an empty Room recalling a season spent In a sleepy town, the cold Lingers on your lashes The skies taste of ponderosa pine Press your fingers between the bark & smell the vanilla Snow catches in your ankles As you stumble home Dizzied by jewels in the sky Maybe I will find myself stumbling back there one day… The thought fades & the tin roof Slams again The warm summer Sits still like a promise Yet whispered Beetles fall from the Cracks in the ceiling Dogs bark as the  …

I Will

I will live within my means. I will own only what my shoulders can carry. I will choose the positive. I will learn to love the scars, and not be afraid when new ones surface. I will bite my tongue and unclench my fists. I will eat mindfully. I will breath deeply. I will see more clearly. I will listen thoughtfully. I will be kind. I will spend my time wisely. I will lift others up before myself. I will cut off the loose ends and run wildly. I will laugh honestly. I will live simply. I will love sweetly & will open arms. I will find the beauty in my unmade face and weathered palms. I will revel in the little things. I will thrive. So much of my life is spent in in empty insecurity, but opening my eyes and looking into new light. I am trying to appreciate the person I’ve become, instead of wrecking my mind on the person I could have been. I am embracing age, and not hiding from it …