the summer that burned me
hibernating. to protect from outside
weather. a fast season of summer came
with sandy gold locks and violet blue eyes.
convincing me temperatures stay the same.
winter petals clenched. drooping to the floor.
heat of his daylight, spring’s invitation.
i filled with brisk air from autumn’s front door,
prayer release. october invocation.
a hot atmosphere stayed, at least it seemed -
until months change, again. saying goodbye:
summer still cries. let me stay. upstream dream.
then everything switches. blink of an eye.
when i return to perpetual warm,
that summer will be a distant dust storm.
(and it sounds like son lux)
The listening tag in our blog collective’s world of words is the most popular.
I love that.
I heard two new songs today that I haven’t stopped playing. So I of course had to immediately bring that to listen and tell.
The first one I heard while I was blasting Hot 97 reading the Wall Street Journal and eyeing a Twitter feed of investors, spectators, government creatures and general commentators carrying on about Earth. I realize this sounds stale. But once you start bumping to No Mediocre on repeat, it’s amazing what you can liven up.
Shout out Iggy Azalea
When I came home, I started working on my book. That is my bitch right now. Thousands of words everywhere. Top secret stuff.
Listening to my beloved German trance station, MDR SPUTNIK Insomnia, I came across this:
That’s what I’ve been writing to for the past two and a half hours. I need to take the puppies out now, so I’m going to switch back to No Mediocre. Because that’s what you dance around your Hell’s Kitchen block to in the guts of a New York City summer night with two furry angels trotting at your feet.
Namaste blog tribe
My homies and I have been chatting love recently. Last night I had an intersting conversation about the concept of Love. I love everyone. Even human creatures that I up front can’t stand, deep down I love them. I have to. Even my ex-husband who I really can’t stand, I still have to love him universally. Otherwise I think I’d be a shitty human, that’s just how I live.
So during our love conversation I naturally bitched about “dating” or “seeing people” or however this strange ritual of eating with humans, going places, shagging, etc. somehow might equivocate to a possible “relationship”.
Recently I knocked around with someone for close to two months, we shagged a few times, had a couple of laughs. And when I queried if we were in a “relationship” I was advised, “No, I don’t think so.”
My homie last night was trying to explain to me that I move too quick. Having to learn “dating” at 35, when you’ve been married since you were 23, frankly, fucking sucks. According to my mate, “It’s New York City, you just, like, see a lot of people, and then see what happens.” (more…)
You show up unannounced again, three days after I say I can’t see you anymore and six weeks after we meet. I would have told you not to come. But you caught me off guard, like the day I first saw you.
There are things that I do and things that I have done that you will never know. It’s why you can’t keep coming here. It’s why I never should have agreed to see you twice.
You think things about me that are not true. I order my fourth drink during our third dinner together and you say, “Man, I can’t drink like that, especially not on a weeknight.” (more…)
directions of destruction
i cut my wrist. vertical. crashing. slay.
horizontal. a lay down way to say
these are the ways that i hurt myself. pay.
choking descriptions of “it’s a bad day”.
i am telling you what i never speak. (more…)