downtown (1 of 2)

June 26, 2014 Posted by gretchen

You told me to write you a story.

“I want it to be true, baby. I want you to tell me the truth about the things that you do.”

You don’t know a thing about what I do. All you know is what I tell you. And over the past two weeks, since you responded to my craigslist ad, I’ve told you random things. Banter. (more…)

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moto boy keep your darkness secret

June 25, 2014 Posted by gretchen

Yesterday after writing morning poetry to Moto Boy, who I discovered listening to a German internet radio station, I had the pleasure of connecting with him in MotoBoysocial media land.

This led me to Moto Boy’s latest release, Keep Your Darkness Secret. Within 10 seconds my hair was let down and I was once again bending in the city breeze… writing poetry.

After my Allen Stone episode last week, which had me shimmying on summer sidewalks up and down Times Square, Moto Boy has injected the subtle chill it took to take some time to sway. I have a unique respect for people singing in a language that isn’t their native tongue. Moto Boy is Swedish, further described on his homepage as Singer. Guitarist. Romantic.

It’s hard enough to sing in another language. But when you start writing poetry in other languages? I basically want to have sex with you. Ok, I’m sorry. That was too much. Still, I’m totally stripping to this at some point. #justsayin

Part of my joy in discovering this song on this particular midtown morning is the balmy air mixed with the cool breeze blowing in my window. It’s the sort of environment that makes my curly hair fat and grab-able. Mixed with Moto Boy?

Poetry:

unanticipated apparition

he appeared in my doorway
and we spoke this language
before we made eye contact
we knew. i could tell you
the first time i outlined his arms
with my center finger and thumb.
i told him i would write about him.
while we sat in an empty room.
three chairs. one empty. wilted
flowers. the breath of the city
cooling my shoulders as i was
watching him sleep. pictures;
drawings spread across my life.
pencil. ink. permanence. words
filled my head. i grabbed my throat;
i turned a key and spun a brass knob.
closed entrance opens. with just
one
click.

 

Igår efter att ha skrivit morgonpoesi till Moto Boy, som jag upptäckte att lyssna på en tysk internetradiostation, hade jag nöjet att ansluta med honom i MotoBoysocial media mark.

Detta ledde mig till Moto Boy s senaste release, håller din Darkness hemlighet. Inom 10 sekunder mitt hår var låt ned och jag var återigen böjning i staden vinden … skriva poesi.

Efter min Allen Sten episod förra veckan, som hade mig shimmying på sommar trottoarer upp och ner Times Square, har Moto Boy injicerat den subtila kylan tog det att ta lite tid att gunga. Jag har en unik respekt för människor som sjunger på ett språk som inte är deras modersmål. Moto Boy är svenska, beskrivs närmare på hans hemsida som Singer. Gitarrist. Romantic.

Det är svårt nog att sjunga på ett annat språk. Men när du börjar skriva poesi på andra språk? Jag vill i princip att ha sex med dig. Ok, jag är ledsen. Det var för mycket. Ändå är jag helt stripp till detta någon gång. # Justsayin

En del av min glädje i att upptäcka den här låten på denna midtown morse är den ljumma luften blandas med sval bris blåser i mitt fönster. Det är den typ av miljö som gör att mitt lockiga hår fett och grab-stånd. Blandat med Moto Boy?

Poesi:

unanticipated apparition

Han dök upp i min dörröppning
och vi talade detta språk
innan vi fick ögonkontakt
vi visste. Jag skulle kunna berätta
första gången jag beskrev sina armar
med min långfingret och tummen
Jag sa att jag skulle skriva om honom.
medan vi satt i ett tomt rum.
tre stolar. en tom. vissnat
blommor. andan i staden
kylning mina axlar som jag var
tittar på honom sova. bilder;
teckningar spridda över mitt liv.
penna. bläck. beständighet. ord
fyllde mitt huvud. Jag tog tag i min hals;
Jag vände en nyckel och snurrade en mässingsknopp.
stängd entré öppnas. med bara
ett
klicka.

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upward trust

June 23, 2014 Posted by gretchen

upward trust

my focussed horizon is where i see
past stories. lies about who we could be.
lifetime purpose of running away. free
to listen to nothing outside of me
because my body is a piece of source;
circular patterns chop paths back and forth.
what if you knew there is only one course?
learning. discovery. your own. self-worth.
i was born listening. words, sounds and sky.
abandon consent to embrace rebirth.
grip on to your truth and never ask why,
priceless advice in this mockery earth.
the sun dipped inside of me, lit my world.
head up and gazing. commitment unfurled.

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lets go to jersey

June 22, 2014 Posted by gretchen

IMG_0104While Jersey has gotten a few shout-outs in my webland pocket, I’ve never impulsively jumped a bus there. Not until yesterday…

That’s right blog tribe, I bussed it to Jersey yesterday. Why? Exactly.

Sometimes things just happen.

The bus adventure was entertaining. First I went to Penn Station instead of Port Authority. I think the whole “P” word / west side thing scrambled my brains a bit. Fortunately, I was still listening to Allen Stone with a backpack of notebooks and ink – so I wasn’t tooo bothered with the wander between stations.

I was, however, bothered at Port Authority, which simply makes no sense. There are lifts and escalators and information booths. Cops wander around and no one really knows where they’re going.

Especially me.IMG_0093

After taking the lift up, down, up, down I finally found the majestical corridor to scurry down for bus hopping. That was when I made two friends. One who I sat and giggled with while we eavesdropped on the conversation next to us which involved to very unhappy restaurant patrons.

“If I ask you for an iced-tea, I want a brand. Lipton or Brisk. Why are you giving me damn glass of unsweetened tea and some sugar, like I’m supposed to stir that together…” Etc.

After my friend hopped off the bus, I apparently missed the stop I was looking for. That’s when I wound up standing on the side of a dark, freeway-ish strip about a mile from where I IMG_0106needed to be.

That’s when my third friend of the journey manifested with the friendly greeting of, “Ummm, I have a car… do you want me to drop you off?”

I clicked my heels and told him about how I am the product of a tribe of six New Jersey-ins. And then I sang him praise during the two minute trip back down the street.

It was hectic…

Today I’m working on a children’s book and also novel. I’ve been editing some poetry in between, but I’ve been writing poetry for a minute now… time for some different, new books.

 

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“taste it on the tips of my teeth”

June 21, 2014 Posted by gretchen

It’s about half past 3am in midtown. #justsayin

allen stone tweets gretchen cello

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    FollowMeToNYC expresses daily thoughts of Gretchen Cello that tend to change with the tides. Naturally these concepts do not reflect those of her employer... or anyone else you may see her walking down the sidewalk with one day.
 
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