don't mind if I do ...
7.31.2010
poem-trees
refound this poem of a couple months ago
I actually neglected to date it
but it came after the poem of february 19th
and before the poem of may 7th
so it must be somewhere in there ...
~
one hand in the trees
one hand on your heart
it's a long stretch across this vast unknown
my fingers traverse mist and cloud
through my tomb and shroud
and stream
until they reach that quickening beat
your gentle skin heat
beneath your breast pocket.
one hand in the trees
one hand to the east
where the birdsong happens to call my name
on the weary wind's last protest
an ancient caress
and sigh
until it eases into my lungs
a breath that beckons
with each quiet exhale.
one hand is reaching
the other's in yours
my joints can't take the pressure much longer
over this still-widening crack
that never goes back
to smooth
but lingers like harsh words or a song
that doesn't belong
whose notes still hang in the air.
~
a snippet:
is that really me, that whirlwind
that flies in the wind
and flings to the ocean
and trails in the field
- her joy?
I actually neglected to date it
but it came after the poem of february 19th
and before the poem of may 7th
so it must be somewhere in there ...
~
one hand in the trees
one hand on your heart
it's a long stretch across this vast unknown
my fingers traverse mist and cloud
through my tomb and shroud
and stream
until they reach that quickening beat
your gentle skin heat
beneath your breast pocket.
one hand in the trees
one hand to the east
where the birdsong happens to call my name
on the weary wind's last protest
an ancient caress
and sigh
until it eases into my lungs
a breath that beckons
with each quiet exhale.
one hand is reaching
the other's in yours
my joints can't take the pressure much longer
over this still-widening crack
that never goes back
to smooth
but lingers like harsh words or a song
that doesn't belong
whose notes still hang in the air.
~
a snippet:
is that really me, that whirlwind
that flies in the wind
and flings to the ocean
and trails in the field
- her joy?
john wayne gacy jr
his father was a drinker
and his mother cried in bed
folding John Wayne's t-shirts
when the swingset hit his head
the neighbors, they adored him
for his humor and his conversation
look underneath the house there
find the few living things, rotting fast
in their sleep all were dead
twenty-seven people, even more
they were boys, with their cars
summer jobs
oh my god
are you one of them?
he dressed up like a clown for them
with his face paint white and red
and on his best behavior
in a dark room on the bed he kissed them all
he'd kill ten thousand people
with a slight of his hand
running far, running fast
to the dead
he took off all their clothes for them
he put a cloth on their lips
quiet hands, quiet kiss
on the mouth
and on my best behavior
i am really just like him
look beneath the floor boards
for the secrets i have hid
john wayne gacy jr.
sufjan stevens
it's a creepy song, filled with so much sadness, and it's been on my mind.
you think it's so baffling, so impossible, how someone could do such evil. how do you go from a sweet little boy to a serial killer? how can he have changed so much?
but we all have seen it, in milder terms - the change in someone that happens so gradually you barely recognize it until there's a moment, down the road, when that person says or does something and it jars with who that person was to you and it becomes profoundly clear - you realize, with a pang, that person is gone. they chose, a little bit at a time, to become someone else. and you cannot bring them back.
7.30.2010
this conversation makes me happy
gregoryh40: hey christina
moi: hiya
gregoryh40: guess what
moi: what?
oo oo i know
you're not a robot
gregoryh40: dang it how did you know
moi: i'm skilled like that :)
gregoryh40: we get the haight's dog Sadie for THREE WEEKS
gregoryh40: yup and mom says she can sleep with me but dad says she can't
gregoryh4
moi: when?
why?
jealousss
that little pooper is adorable
gregoryh4
moi: she can sleep with ME!
cause i'm not allergic
or we can take turns, how bout that?
gregoryh40: are you coming home?
---
moi: mbye
---
moi: mbye
gregoryh40: wuz that a maybe or a bye
moi: it was a mmm
and a bye
together!
at last!
gregoryh40: okay BYE!! :D
7.29.2010
hep hep hep
friendly friends that frequent my blog - (because the people who zip in, mostly from foreign countries, for only 5 seconds, or even milliseconds at a time, I love you and wish you would stay but I'm going to be realistic here) -
...
please take my survey!! https://byu.qualtrics.com/SE?SID=SV_cwti7dmUab0pIQA
I took a training class in qualtrics survey making for work and I need some results so I can analyze them all cool and proper. also, I made a survey that actually interests me, so I'd really like to know what you think.
I flood the interwebs with my pleas for survey participants. hopefully the overload of gmail, facebook, twitter and blog doesn't break something ...
...
please take my survey!! https://byu.qualtrics.com/SE?SID=SV_cwti7dmUab0pIQA
I took a training class in qualtrics survey making for work and I need some results so I can analyze them all cool and proper. also, I made a survey that actually interests me, so I'd really like to know what you think.
I flood the interwebs with my pleas for survey participants. hopefully the overload of gmail, facebook, twitter and blog doesn't break something ...
7.28.2010
more recent musics
arcade fire - funeral
beirut - gulag orkestar
esperanza spalding
the flaming lips
frightened rabbit - the winter of mixed drinks
jonsi - go do
the national - high violet
of montreal - the sunlandic twins
olof arnalds
she & him - volume one
sondre lerche - faces down
sufjan stevens - illinoise
loney, dear
beirut - gulag orkestar
esperanza spalding
the flaming lips
frightened rabbit - the winter of mixed drinks
jonsi - go do
the national - high violet
of montreal - the sunlandic twins
olof arnalds
she & him - volume one
sondre lerche - faces down
sufjan stevens - illinoise
loney, dear
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