Did you hear the one about the man who remained silent only to be heard?

The whispers are only for myself, and I repeat them often enough to know them all by heart. The truth, I held it under my tongue and prayed...all the while losing my hold on the meaning. Now my words are bent and broken from the release. Questionable promises have crumbled in my fist, and what remains is dry and falls through my fingers. It crashes to the ground in small piles, which I blend back into the earth with my shoe. I grab a handful and press it against my lips; it is rough against my cheek. And I am reminded of where it all began.

p.s. what has changed is mistaken for truth without question.

Mother Fucker that feels good.

It is down right impossible to kill the mood around here this fine evening. So, my intended post has been shelved for the time being. I am grateful for the distraction; my mood had drifted toward the foul. I am not my usual pretty princess self. You laugh...would you prefer The Queen? Quite honestly, I am like an unruly child.

Foolishly, I lost my temper. In an attempt to do far too many things at once, I allowed myself to snap under the pressure. The target of my destructive behavior, ever so graciously, allowed my rant without a challenge. And yes...as I know you will ask, I have apologized. I am truly sorry.

p.s. those dark moments back there cause me to pause and thank you.

I need to borrow this I don't have much time.

10:57pm








Tell me about a memorable dinner you have had? No...on second thought, I don't want to hear about the entire meal...just describe the appetizer. I will imagine the rest. It is more fun that way.


p.s. no insights today just retort a fucking headache and my only defense to make amends with future earnest offerings.

And what follows will undeniably be written sharply...in haste.

I love watching her delicate hands as they fumble to open my belt buckle. You can bet I never go without one when I am with her. During those few moments just before she opens my pants, I can hardly breathe. It is like that every time. She looks up towards me, her eyes are warm and giving. They tell me everything that I need to know. I feel love in her eyes. Yet, in this moment she seems so fragile, as if she needs my approval before she begins her rapture on me. It is that way this night, and each night I have the privilege of her attention.

p.s. conversation prompted the fire I'm out on a limb; x-rated in an alternate universe.

Not so far away so close exhausted.

Too many fresh graves, pushed up daisies, and tired beat up conversations. Distracted by the past? I thought you were beyond that…move on already. I appreciate that some of you are refraining from that condemning tone…I find your restraint to be revolutionary. Let’s attend to more important details...now, where am I again?

p.s. 1037 BC

Time has a funny way of punching in.

Do not be led astray...I am here, not there, not everywhere. Although the meaning may be hidden, my words are never buried. You always recognize my presence and hear my voice. It is a great compliment. I hear you as well, and continue to do so with an open mind. My lovelies, it has been far too long since I addressed you directly. Please don't be mad.

It was never my intent to stay, you have given me a path, and I will wander. Judgments aside for the moment, the most promising of you have made this a phenomenal place to find importance in reason; the process of it. Dare I say we complement one another?

p.s. some are not obligated to wear the wool and others do it for good measure.

Towel and Tribulations.

I spread out the cloth for the dishes to lay.
The chipped rims and faded patterns
of plates that held the sustenance
of our years, pulled from the hutch.
Once careful, I now slam them down hard.
And it feels good that way.
The sharp clink of ceramic
greater comfort than the quiet smooth edges.
I wrap the sharp and cold pieces for trash
swallowing more pride than food.

Eyes stitched shut for years without warning.

A faucet of truth springs forth where you least expect it. I have found the necessary tools to cease the flow…or perhaps, encourage the release. An abstract combination of malevolence and transgression has enabled the hand forward, the torque profitable. The leak expired. Please, allow my waves the privilege to crash upon your waders. I have dug in, rooted in the perversity, entrenched in the limitations, and bruised by the morality.

Truth be told, and if it were, doubt would still slither its' way into your supposition. Torch carrying is a responsibility undertaken with determination. The challenge is to remain steadfast and true. This is not always an achievable task. Perceptions often refute validation, but a ripened integrity allows balance. Disclosure is promising, beautiful; I will not take it back, and neither will you.

Allies and underlings, consider both hostages to mutual enforcement. The brigade advanced, and all fell in as agreed. Should I follow...or jump ship and purchase my validity with wadded up paper airplanes?

p.s. the ghost that floats by here now again find a way.

In the future where directions more difficult than it seemed.

This may be exactly what was planned. Perhaps this is not only an excuse for the outing, but also for the silence. Just so that you are aware…lately, I have had a little of both. The ceramic virgins for sale on every corner only served to remind me of lessons long forgotten. I am glad to have put those exhortations on a low shelf. I need them.

Now, as to the beginning…what remains has lapsed. It was paramount to have engaged the deafening torment and to have witnessed the others holding their ground. Abiding by the instruction of those memories, reverence is delivered upon me; a priceless gift. Creation marked by every tone; aspiration, resignation, legitimacy...it is all there.

Words, big and small, are never unimportant when they are gifts of thought and time.

p.s. sharp corners are the best place to post the desired effect.

Let's mothball this shit baby...with one hour to spare.

Is it true that we value in others what we want to see in ourselves, the missing piece...pieces, or peace? Who surrounds you? Why are they near? I hold dear to my heart those whose passion can find no limit, those with righteous hearts, and calloused fingers. Because I aspire to be more than I have brought to the table so far.

What is missing? I can not watch myself from a distance...it is far too painful. The awkwardness, the shuffle, gives rise to self doubt and sour bile. I rely on second hand tales and the perceptions of others to deliver me from evil. Introspection has never been my finest skill...so I challenge myself to look.

p.s. here we go, one last time...it's in the blood.

It is in the bend that we find the blight.

I have to hand it to you...I never thought you would distinguish bright lights from burning bridges. But, here we are...so settle in. I know that I have, and I am more than happy to help you find a comfortable chair.

Be aware, there may be a short wait for conveyance...but in time, that will all make sense. So as I said, I am glad that you have found your surroundings to be adequate. I am glad that everyone has arrived.

Sanctioned by the devout, divine, and deliberate. But for what...today, I have no fucking clue.

p.s. interruption...post and repost, nothing new to spew.

Chasing whales and long ago fairy tales. Just for fun.

Happen
stance,
second chance
walking along the road.

Life
stalls,
hope falls
and up the stairs I go.

Or perhaps down.

Head
spins,
who wins
when it's time to show?

Tick
tock,
stop clock
when it’s time you know.

Or perhaps don’t.