Lost Coastlines pt.2

Insomnia. A rarity. It's a pleasure I won't be able to enjoy for much longer. Goucher's only 5 days away. I'm excited but also,

I don't know.

Realizing and Exercising

I realized it's been quite some time since I last made a post updating on anything/writing anything/......anything. So, here we go. Let's do this for real.

THUNDERCATS GOOO!!

Anyway,

The closing for my family's new house was today. This means that it officially belongs to us. Yep. That's right. The owners have vacated so now it's just sitting all pretty and vacated like, awaiting our move (which is Thursday. Pretty exciting). It's actually quite spiffy looking. In addition to having a rather mountainesque interior (cedar floors+ceilings. warm colors), it's 2 acres large. That's right. 2 acres. We even have a huge, beautiful garden to go along with its largeness. I had to admit I was impressed with my mother's decision. For $450,000, she did me proud.

I don't have pictures of this new house to post at the moment as I have misplaced my digital camera (again). Oh well. That will be a problem I will remedy soon enough.

In other news, I've taken a break from writing poetry and other things to spend time outdoors and explore my surroundings. It's very lovely here, very picturesque. Although I miss dirty jersey, I don't mind my new habitat so much anymore.

I wonder what that means for the future.

Inhibition

In the shadow of youth,

She wears her shyness like a dress

Overflowing patterns

That swing with every step.

Driven by necessity,

She crafted herself out of stone

So that every time you look at her,

You'll never know she feels alone.

But lady I've spotted all the egg shells

I've counted every crack.

Mother of the blueness, angel of the storm,

I will remember you in your opaqueness.

The vase of flowers by the bed.

Your bare blue knees at dawn,

These ruffled sheets, and now you're gone

And I am going too.

Thunder Storms and Calicos

I find when I dream,

It is always of closeness

Of pervasive affection that my attention

Gobbles up, an integral hand

Stroking my cheek as I drift, I am drifting

To our bedroom where you lay plotting

Out sketches, concave figures,

The way I look in a dress. Famished fingers

Stretch up, meeting with mine, enclosing

Around them. We made this home

Out of neither sticks or stones but bones

Our very skin, two beating hearts.

It is all I think about when I'm gone.

But at least when I dream,

It is always of closeness, so that

Home is never too far.

Upon Seeing Inception...

LAZR-BEE

Providing hours of amusement for my kitty-cats and me.

For Mike

If you ever read this, I hope you think of me (for I am always thinking of you).

Here I love you
In the dark pines the wind disentangles itself.
The moon glows like phosphorous on the vagrant waters.
Days, all one kind, go chasing each other.

The snow unfurls in dancing figures.
A silver gull slips down from the west.
Sometimes a sail. High, high stars.
Oh the black cross of a ship.
Alone.


Sometimes I get up early and even my soul is wet.
Far away the sea sounds and resounds.
This is a port.

Here I love you.
Here I love you and the horizon hides you in vain.
I love you still among these cold things.
Sometimes my kisses go on those heavy vessels
that cross the sea towards no arrival.
I see myself forgotten like those old anchors.

The piers sadden when the afternoon moors there.
My life grows tired, hungry to no purpose.
I love what I do not have. You are so far.
My loathing wrestles with the slow twilights.
But night comes and starts to sing to me.

The moon turns its clockwork dream.
The biggest stars look at me with your eyes.
And as I love you, the pines in the wind
want to sing your name with their leaves of wire.
-Pablo Neruda