tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-124328273969117522024-02-19T06:47:31.402-08:00Sad Kitteh SisterElinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16900549134269059647noreply@blogger.comBlogger11125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12432827396911752.post-10720875079599912312008-06-03T10:13:00.000-07:002008-06-03T11:09:08.853-07:00How to Hang with Strangenesseverywhere, people are stupid<br />everywhere, people are worn out<br /><br />i have lived for a long time now<br />take this piece of advice<br /><br />only open your skirt to strangeness <br />if you’re prepared to handle it, to sleep <br /><br />through the sleepless nights, to cut <br />the fat and occasionally an eye.<br /><br />don’t eat your mother, let heal<br />what is broken half-heartedly<br /><br />only break ceramic gifts occasionally<br />cherish the rest half-seriously<br /><br />give yourself 5 minutes of crying time<br />intermittently, don’t take anything personally<br /><br />and prepare to let go of your personality,<br />your riches cannot help you now. <br /><br />stitch its name in broad letters<br />then cross it out. find no time<br /><br />to answer emails. play the game badly<br />head for disaster now and then<br /><br />say <em>you’re a horrible friend</em>,<br />then watch what happens <br /><br />in the corner of your eye. <br />say I infrequently with emphasis,<br /><br />be empathetic to children in need <br />and don’t feed the monsterElinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16900549134269059647noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12432827396911752.post-23554626846614898932008-06-02T15:39:00.001-07:002008-06-03T11:12:10.073-07:00HeaddressI am hovering about you,<br />a bee in a headdress,<br /><br />a man in a dress, so ungodly<br />and ugly, the plants in your<br /><br />sacred garden wither,<br />and take on odd colours<br /><br />and then some. I am <br />busying myself in your bonnet,<br /><br />your plastic face keeps resembling<br />my scary childhood clown face,<br /><br />your fingers prodding the nowheres<br />of my body, and your general<br /><br />staying away, which also hurts me<br />immensely, this red sticker face.Elinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16900549134269059647noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12432827396911752.post-82124968697510645282008-05-18T11:49:00.000-07:002008-05-18T12:06:44.306-07:00WasteThe deadness of this thought is so obvious to me now.<br />Even if you reportedly died trying to call me, <br /><br />I wouldn’t believe it, and it wouldn’t become me. The only <br />problem now is what to do with these poems littering the riverside,<br /><br />all this energy spent, all this good rubber on wheels, <br />all this snow I arranged for you, all these thought processes. <br /><br />Thank you again. I am confident that<br />there will be no further disturbing of my brain.Elinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16900549134269059647noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12432827396911752.post-54760986509454119572008-05-17T14:30:00.000-07:002008-05-17T14:44:03.513-07:00Repeat Death<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOJirBPCRwj0PEaGKjWHWJhRkfJZif_cz_YbntFBWT95yOEV2ZEu32aBhhh69SSZDlnOwnTrTobSIKxv-tshPw9DqOLVg99XhCPTUyB9sjFcmPSisZ4UfgPqN_fqUHPAZp_GQAR8sm4w/s1600-h/Spiral_Galaxy_M100.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOJirBPCRwj0PEaGKjWHWJhRkfJZif_cz_YbntFBWT95yOEV2ZEu32aBhhh69SSZDlnOwnTrTobSIKxv-tshPw9DqOLVg99XhCPTUyB9sjFcmPSisZ4UfgPqN_fqUHPAZp_GQAR8sm4w/s320/Spiral_Galaxy_M100.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201465789222793762" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Death brushes by me again,<br />in the shape of a wounded wing<br /><br />attached to this woman thing.<br />Small, insignificant and difficult,<br /><br />taking all my time and my eyes,<br />this repeat death is slow and nearly<br /><br />unnoticeable. Scalpel sharp enough<br />to cut humans and kittens in half<br /><br />with minimal effort and near-to-no <br />stirring of agitated bodies.<br /><br />Residue is painful though,<br />bleeding and abandoned <br /><br />litter of the future,<br />delayed once more.<br /><br />Look at the trains leaving,<br />look at them go.<br /><br />Look at the unsaid<br />hovering above the sleepers.<br /><br />Just say no, wait for the next<br />galaxy to be born,<br /><br />to breathe in and out. Wait<br />for the next slow death.Elinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16900549134269059647noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12432827396911752.post-77760627001235633112008-05-17T10:47:00.000-07:002008-05-17T15:25:34.905-07:00Gnats<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhJ-OQ4epXTSL2L2d9zkeuOLbt4HlX8RaDwJrnLKgZaeykP_h7vh0PYU7ChyphenhyphenwzWOi6mW_nAworjYzW9oul37kbcWhFpjjlIrxiyFG6exSscA9R5HTxyBOpePb9T-h6fzGjPOVy0sRtGg/s1600-h/Tipula_paludosa_couple.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhJ-OQ4epXTSL2L2d9zkeuOLbt4HlX8RaDwJrnLKgZaeykP_h7vh0PYU7ChyphenhyphenwzWOi6mW_nAworjYzW9oul37kbcWhFpjjlIrxiyFG6exSscA9R5HTxyBOpePb9T-h6fzGjPOVy0sRtGg/s320/Tipula_paludosa_couple.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201405311788298706" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />It’s cemented in me now,<br />the knowledge<br /><br />that I am not wanted<br />in this way. Finally<br /><br />I can rest, take a long lost<br />break from these troubling<br /><br />thoughts. <br />The gnats swarming <br /><br />about my head <br />will finally go away.Elinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16900549134269059647noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12432827396911752.post-90107567213507195202008-05-11T12:23:00.000-07:002008-05-11T12:40:50.113-07:00Arachnophilia<span style="font-family:arial;">I search for your nocturnal self among the spiders in the attic,<br />my fingers grope in the deep indigo of this dream, but you do not show.<br /><br />Perhaps you are still on a caravan journey through the desert,<br />letting books rot away on the shelf.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;">Were you looking for shells on the beach, did you wear a dress<br />even in that scorching heat? I could have been your husband<br /><br />making huts from twigs I found in the sand. I swam<br />in the folds of your dress. Songs would have issued from heaven.<br /><br />Could have. Time is never ripe. We are still such mindful creatures<br />and do not heed that quiet command.<br /><br />See the trembling cealing. We walk sideways and askew<br />in separate corridors, like halting spiders, awkard and silent.</span>Elinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16900549134269059647noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12432827396911752.post-38643941162434868932008-05-11T12:22:00.002-07:002008-05-11T12:23:17.855-07:00SatieEchoing the vein, the pang: <br />the slow lightning, the gentle <br />catastrophe, nothing <br /><br />as purple was ever said. <br />Had I been stroking <br />his cloudy beard,<br /><br />taken his glasses off, <br />scalpelled his heart out, <br />it wouldn’t have given me this.<br /><br />I couldn’t burn <br />more slowly. You are <br />eating your sallad <br /><br />in retrograde, lifting <br />stains with your mouth. <br />Tongue ever more <br /><br />tasteless, hands growing <br />shyer, smaller,<br />infinitely retreating, breathing <br /><br />in. Every fifth year the sun<br />expands, every fifth year <br />exhales. <br /><br />Reaching an empty <br />stomach, so it might begin<br />again. It doesn’t help.<br /><br />Satie is always <br />delayed. Like my age, <br />dreaming of unspoiled <br /><br />fruit, a healthy seed, <br />neutral to music, the prejudice, <br />all our love, and taking <br /><br />its time. Fine cigars <br />appease us, stately names, <br />e-mail replies<br /><br />from presidents. Our bodies<br />never were in such wealth,<br />never so photographed.<br /><br />Worshipping wounds <br />grown invisible, <br />we put on <br /><br />our dresses <br />and another CD <br />of Satie –<br /><br />Lunch will ever come, <br />will ever throw <br />dressing on our trousers. <br /><br />How non-metaphorical <br />were those headaches <br />brought on by sullied clothes?<br /><br />How far from a Jesus stain <br />in your crotch, the singing<br />which cannot stop.Elinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16900549134269059647noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12432827396911752.post-78738904314891920712008-05-11T12:22:00.001-07:002008-05-11T12:44:01.557-07:00Sticking to FingersThings<br />you cannot read, like forbidding<br />grass, steps over a lawn.<br /><br />So is the touch<br />emphatically not erotic,<br />like glueing one’s eyes to the sea.<br /><br />Unforgettable, friendly<br />pat on a knee, things you cannot<br />see, or read without embarrassment:<br /><br />Lack without precedent,<br />overabundence.<br />Not the longing<br /><br />for a ripe and life-long<br />waist embrace, unreadable anyway,<br />like the sustenance of fiords.<br /><br />Only the thing, the just<br />do it: The thing I want<br />without being ironic.Elinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16900549134269059647noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12432827396911752.post-28219011569878687652008-05-11T12:12:00.000-07:002008-05-11T13:07:53.001-07:00My Truly Warmest<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigM9j0R04c-gqJpE0BXZcgsWTi-tj_KWehxPCyQB5AL2ll551DSWH7X1vTtNco7qI0e5qBcTfAqS4Nv-XWw31girY0GzTrEPu_sAKVXjsrUP8SwBA2r13LxxWsZXOwxvhemmGU5-cbyg/s1600-h/flare_xray_red-300.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199200825334346146" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigM9j0R04c-gqJpE0BXZcgsWTi-tj_KWehxPCyQB5AL2ll551DSWH7X1vTtNco7qI0e5qBcTfAqS4Nv-XWw31girY0GzTrEPu_sAKVXjsrUP8SwBA2r13LxxWsZXOwxvhemmGU5-cbyg/s320/flare_xray_red-300.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Not a hole in my heart exactly, no white noise,<br />I can bleed no more for no-one.<br /><br />No bullet through my head, unbearable shame,<br />there is no no-name unspeakable.<br /><br />No impossibility, no slashing of wrists in moonlight<br />and no no-one to blame.<br /><br />My entrails are all inside, so how do I describe this<br />giddy fold of flesh, fresh shudder of happy<br /><br />shrapnel, gentle Angst. Changing cells<br />from the inside, you are a beautiful mistake.<br /><br />Fate gone awry, new rivers<br />carving out a dapple-drawn morning.<br /><br />Falcon dawn, cracking open<br />the ancient geode, gold vermilion.Elinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16900549134269059647noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12432827396911752.post-45278375139054754822008-05-10T15:06:00.000-07:002008-05-10T15:09:23.826-07:00StrangenessI will not impose my strangeness<br />on your straight self, secure<br /><br />and uninterested. This flame<br />cannot be sustained<br /><br />by a few strands of hair<br />in your sofa bed, <br /><br />or by the ambiguity<br />of a stray word like <br /><br />girlfriend.<br /><br /><br /><em>(Sad Kitteh original <a href="http://inocanhascheezburgerpoems.blogspot.com/2008/05/starngeness.html">here</a>)</em>Elinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16900549134269059647noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12432827396911752.post-19855348098244471122008-05-10T13:07:00.000-07:002008-05-10T15:24:58.055-07:00The Planets<a href="http://icanhascheezburger.com/2008/01/08/funny-pictures-is-fulla-starz/"><img src="http://icanhascheezburger.wordpress.com/files/2008/01/funny-pictures-2001-cat.jpg" alt="funny pictures" /></a><br /><em>more <a href="http://icanhascheezburger.com">cat</a> pictures</em><br /><br /><br />The planets <br />are talking to me<br /><br />slowly, determinedly,<br />like trees do.<br /><br />This thing must mean <br />something, or am I<br /><br />swimming in the<br />syrupy ink of space,<br /><br />wasting time,<br />losing aim,<br /><br />never touching<br />sky again?<br /><br /><br /><em>(original <a href="http://inocanhascheezburgerpoems.blogspot.com/2008/05/da-planets.html">here</a>)</em>Elinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16900549134269059647noreply@blogger.com0