Spider-Legged Ink Spills

2007-02-19T22:51:00.000-08:00

i love my love
he is so grand
i love the way
he holds my hand
and when i'm sad
he makes me smile
he's so strong
could run a mile
and i'd be there
to cheer him on
my love for him
is super strong

2 old(er) poems because i can't find my new one

2007-02-19T22:38:00.000-08:00

from here it looks like
that puddle is peircing a hole straight through the concrete

looking at this campus like its foreign
it starts to feel that way
looking for anyone I know here
finding no one today
meeting someone new
but i'm taken

seeing you then,
sitting on the grey steps
the one i introduced to this
and now
looking at you
sitting on the steps,
digging through your backpack
excited
something to share
not with me
i just keep walking
i don't say hi

we are almost done here
it begins to disappear
not going here with you anymore
no literature friends
discussions
drinks
theories

and now we split paths,
you will go on to another life like this
and i'll move in another direction
not meant to be where you go

and on my way home
i step into the puddle
that reflects a world on campus

Books

2006-10-10T19:28:00.000-07:00

One book that changed your life:

The Bell Jar, Sylvia Plath
Mrs. Dalloway, Virginia Woolf
Sons and Lovers, DH Lawrence
Jude the Obscure, Thomas Hardy

One book that you've read more than once:

The Bell Jar
The Outsider, Albert Camus
Alice in Wonderland, Charles Dodgeson

One book you'd want on a desert island:

The Last Man, Mary Shelley

One book that made you laugh:

Lucky Jim, Kingsley Amis

One book that made you cry:

Generals Die in Bed, Charles Yale Harrison
Regeneration, Pat Barker

One book that you wish had been written:

The abstract poetry/journals/memoirs/drawings/photos of Virginia Woolf and friends

One book that you wish had never been written:

Ted Hughes books

One book you're currently reading:

Lady Chatterly's Lover, DH Lawrence
Transcanada Letters, Roy Kiyooka

One book you've been meaning to read:

To the Lighthouse, Virginia Woolf
The Mayor of Casterbridge and Tess of d'Urbervilles, Thomas Hardy

2006-09-08T02:55:00.000-07:00

in the "goals" section of my student planner i wrote "write more"
among other things,
which, you know, i hope to do.

2006-06-06T18:35:00.000-07:00

the first thing we ever did together
was draw and fly

you liked me despite my crappy drawings
you liked me because of my crappy drawings
you even encouraged me
and my crappy drawings

i love your drawings
im better with words
and
i'm still flying

2006-04-11T13:13:00.000-07:00

2006-03-28T01:59:00.000-08:00

Man didn’t create time

Time created man

Your penis extension is getting in my way

Its polluting my day

2006-03-13T18:46:00.000-08:00

just wanted to say a couple more things today specific

Anna lived a life of tussling with eros
should she give it up?
The hunt
the deer dear
the hart heart
That was before she caught Henry's grumpy bearded jaundiced eye.
Whatever bakes your cake.
How do you know
when the chased is no longer chaste
when do we give up
give in
settle down
stop tussling
or is there a possibility of a tussle free lifestyle
I'm not so sure its that easy.

2006-03-13T18:08:00.000-08:00

today the moon seemed tangible
spherical
one thing in this world
sets my mind off
in fantasy
becoming is what makes anxiety
i am
is more contenting
potential ...
i am
this is what i can do now
this is what i can do
and my future is far off
and my imagined future
is where i cannot live
this is what i can do now
write
this is life
now
and i study literature
to gain knowledge
to know wisdom
to enact
to dream
to imagine
what life could be
what life is
theoretically

today the moon seemed tangible
seems to be
my memory
of a thousand flowers
in one room
seems to be
my vision
of a little girl
with long curly brown hair
in the grass
seems to be
my dreams
of holding my children
my emotions like waves
eternal
when will my imagination
of my memories
come true?
its hard to wait
and remember
this is what i can do now
and be content
this is what i can do now
to write
to keep imagining
and remembering
my future.

2006-03-08T23:32:00.000-08:00

i remember the first time my sister saw snow
i remember this exchange student we had who cried when she saw the stars
she said at home she never saw such a clear night
the picture of my mother and father
the eyes of my brother
on his wedding day
i remember the texture of the sand
grains on my face
i remember the dreams i had as a child

...
here is a poem i wrote a while ago that i was just reminded of. The prof made us write using this repetitive style. he drove me nuts, he said for inspiration he read a poem, then wrote one like it. i thought that was really weird. everything was about structure with him. i resented that. but i can't say i didnt learn anything writing all those sestinas and using antanaclasis' and asyndentons.

"my childhood stuffed into a format"
I took this poem off. I hated looking at it.
Heres another one from that class I like better:

my mother was once like the moon
stable,
unchanging
only one face visible to me

she would threaten,
if i pointed at her
that she would come in the night
to bite off my ears

and one day i grew up
i realized
that my mother was slowly moving away from me
at approximatley 3 cm. per year

i like that one. okay enough for today, i'm procrastinating. i have to write up a handout for my class on why i believe language restricts what we can communicate about identity. that's right you heard me. i'm dressing up as a guy, i've got the beard-stubble make up from laura and some of seans clothes. i'm going to say that when it comes down to it, the quality of having the body of a woman, being a woman means being first and foremost a sight. i want women to know that they don't have to act like someone is watching them, and for alot of them even when they are alone. you are most beautiful, you are most graceful, when you do not think anyone is watching. i love you my mom, my new mom, my sisters and any other woman who reads this. Happy International Women's day by the way.

2006-03-07T01:32:00.000-08:00

belief
feeling
intuition

necessity:
bare
happiness
raw
energy

safety
comfort
ease

need:
-----
to know
love

feel,
create
what i feel

love,
to create
what i feel

love,
to feel
what i create

belief

2006-02-28T20:27:00.000-08:00

You make me feel alright
safety in numbers
i let go of the night

You make it all okay
and i do
knowing i love you
outside of need
its so soothing

this summer i will bury myself inside
in books
outside of the light
where theories glare off mirrors
too bright

a
b
c
d
c

10101010101010101010101010101010
there is no such thing as binaries
but
cyborgs are only metaphorical
so far...

ten more months of symbolic liminality
ten more months of representational peabodies
ten more months of which to base my life on

but this was about you
you make me feel alright
hold me tight
keep me out of the night
allow me to sleep
ten more months
finally

2006-02-24T23:33:00.000-08:00

friday night
you walking alone
in the cold
across a bridge
and i don't know whether
i want to forget it all
and drink
or attempt to deal
knowing i am weak

so i sleep
the music comes on

this afternoon we shut the blinds
and the sun squeezed through
golden yellow
orange
the room closed off
to the afternoons
that are so short
and precious

waiting for night
hoping i'll feel alright
squeeze my cat tight
until he wants to fight

right

it used to be different
when i was alone
need need
and now i'm left

right

into the night
i'll be awake
feeling as though i should write
not knowing what it is
that makes me cry

a mew from kitten
reminds me

2006-02-13T00:16:00.000-08:00

i thought i'd post the poem that gave this page its name:
i called it despair

i'll be here till morning
as for now i cannot sleep
but your drooping eyes can no longer hold my gaze
and i am stuck here
avoiding my dreams
alone

i lay awake,
i remember
a child portrait
of wisdom deep knowledge
a tapestry of sadness

wash over us
flood of tears

and now i hold you
all i have is now
and my past
lush and dark
creeps over my shoulders
while your eyelids
reflect dark trees
bare skeleton trees
holes in poetry
a deep ditch dug
in spider-legged ink spills
by distant tragedy

our love absorbed
engraved
why can't we remember?
all i have is the dreams i had of you
the feeling i get with you
why can't we remember?
we we are so sad

a vision
a dream
our past
yours- hollow like the feeling
cold and empty
mine- a serene mellow tragedy
depressed by a new body
maybe ear
maybe lip
maybe tongue
maybe tongue

my vision - forest and dirt
the place in my mind where i connect with these
messages of memories
is it a place from a novel i read when i was young?
or that i wrote?
a disconnected voice asks why
someone that was loved died there
i died there
and you saw

s
i...
yes?
love you
i love you too
symbol

what are our names?
trust me.

i'll be here till morning, mourning
dreaming and awakening
sighing with relief to touch your hair
to know you're there
but as morning grows old
i forget your name

and i anticipate the moment we say goodbye
but i know it will only be in death
yet again...
and the mildew creeps
and we will have to live without
each other for years
yet again

when these days are worth so much to me
i dream i find you in eternity
for now,
we'll be here till morning

2006-02-08T02:48:00.000-08:00

Looking at the oranges through waves of heat
the mesh that holds the garlic
and wondering if its my eyes that are making things move so smoothly
waver
or if its the steam from my toast
my stomach hurts consistently
besides that i feel nothing
but everything
passion in a calm way
thinking everything clear grey
output output output
squiggly red lines under repeated words
what did my professor call that?
he may have well spoken in latin
he may have well
red lines
Latin was supposed to be capitalized
interaction with past times
through literature
imagination and empathy
Kings become reality- why not?
and my roomates seem to be characters i can interact with currently
coughing
from the bedroom
i treasure the times my body feels good
my eighth wave is fading
and i think of people i haven't called that i love
who are probably sleeping
green line, asking me to put a question mark
copy paste right click erase
and tomorrow i'll have to put my mind into a different time
Early Canada
all relative
but still i try to find
my life is seperate from my mind
virtue
who is that and when
pen
a tale so i can analyze your mind
in relevance to a transcendent reality
without knowing
the rhetoric seeps in
nothing erased
replaced
my faced
delirium, i laugh
and feel like i could cry
the fur on my cat feels exponentially softer
economics of culture
and i don't know why
there is a word for everything
they change
and when we realize this we are gone
we are one big
separate mind
united
in isolation
the words of a thousand poets
live in my brain
and make me insane
because none of it makes any sense
black and grey and white
nothing permanent
fleeting passing brief temporary
momentary short-lived
transient, ephemeral evanescent
caffiene
nicotine
tangerine
type type
caffiene
nicotine
tangerine
type type
caffiene...
nicotine...
tangerine?...
type
it is my eyes.

2006-02-07T00:32:00.000-08:00

you know i...

you are splashes of color
amid water and sand
you are a raw juicy mango
eaten with hands
outside in bare feet
humming an upbeat tune

playing on your drum
you are instinctual
gentle and content
you calm my water

you are a full moon
everynight
and a bright sun
everyday
but when i need rain
you are rain

you are noises of pleasure
licking my body
you are breath
on my neck
and brown eyes
you look at me
you see me

you occupy
my mind
you fill
my heart...

blog blog blog

2006-01-10T17:51:00.000-08:00

So... this is it. I wanted a way to post pictures so this is what happened. Loranda began her first blog. I will keep in mind that I now have the ability to type about my life, but I cannot promise much more than pictures. And I can't even promise many of those. Maybe it will just be poetry. You know what they say, a poem a day keeps the dolphins at bay.
enjoy -