My side of the equation.
I do not belong to others.
Caring for people changes my happiness.
I am hoping to be hopeful.
A failure.
Justice is making my beauty strong.
Love me.
Busted for being safe.
***
Men are changing;
I am peaceful.
***
A clock with no hands
A beast with no pain
A rose with no chin
***
Dreams with life are needed.
I write for a feeling of seasoning.
Leave people beautiful.
***
Zero money is zero licks.
***
Be women with steam.
Datum:
Congress with a loud priestess is awesome.
This is lousy. Thank you very much.
Be safe.
Love,
Me.
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Saturday, May 19, 2012
A la change
As far as I can tell, I'm involved with cruelty.
When is anyone strong?
Do you wish to live? (Please note, not a threat).
An inquiry.
I find myself asking for good things to happen. I find myself hoping that when I treat myself as a person who is hopeful that I receive happiness.
I find myself thinking that everybody is wondering why it's so lewd. I can only say that I am falling away from being a person who is changing for others. I do not understand the reasons others do what they do.
My only solace is feelings of happiness.
I am bored.
Other thoughts: I didn't want to be a woman, I wanted to like people.
So when you are doing things for yourself or that need to get finished, remember that only hope is always there.
Art is Life.
But is it philosophy?
I am beginning to believe that art is not a metaphor for the Goddess, but rather the other way around.
This is beginning to sound like I need a life.
That's good. First Harvey Milk Day in Sierra Vista this Tuesday.
Steady as you go!
When is anyone strong?
Do you wish to live? (Please note, not a threat).
An inquiry.
I find myself asking for good things to happen. I find myself hoping that when I treat myself as a person who is hopeful that I receive happiness.
I find myself thinking that everybody is wondering why it's so lewd. I can only say that I am falling away from being a person who is changing for others. I do not understand the reasons others do what they do.
My only solace is feelings of happiness.
I am bored.
Other thoughts: I didn't want to be a woman, I wanted to like people.
So when you are doing things for yourself or that need to get finished, remember that only hope is always there.
Art is Life.
But is it philosophy?
I am beginning to believe that art is not a metaphor for the Goddess, but rather the other way around.
This is beginning to sound like I need a life.
That's good. First Harvey Milk Day in Sierra Vista this Tuesday.
Steady as you go!
Monday, May 14, 2012
Astral Ostrich
I teach what I feel best about; and that's home.
The only culturally specific chant I know is an uneven cry amounting to a quiet scream.
I am angry with myself for allowing a homeless man to briefly watch pornography on my computer. I have no couth, no modulation in my relations with others. No one will teach me how to develop it or where it comes from.
Lesbians change.
The Goddess changes.
I have tried to embrace the beauty in life that so much of what is culturally transmitted attempts to hide.
Please understand that a poem that fails to believe in its own beauty is a way to coldness.
I am trying at the same time to integrate myself, to integrate the world around me, and to separate myself from that which seems to be destructive as well as separate what does not seem to me to belong together.
This began as an intellectual project, but now I understand that without putting life first, it can become prelude to horrible destructive acts. I just wanted to go back to myth, in my own life and in my intellect, to undo the separation between poetry and philosophy that Plato introduced into our "civilization." Now I am clinging to the shreds of wholeness that remain.
You probably want to stop reading what I am writing. Before I go, let me simply let go of the sick pressure to communicate in coherent language what must first emerge from spirit, feeling and love.
I hope you will read this and not think it a total regression. I've attempted that also. It does not work, leading only to a self-enclosed entity without outward activity or inward awareness; in other words, a kind of death.
Say, how about them artist softball players?
You know that it's okay today because no one is making my anger anything but a distraction from hope and not an unbearable and inescapable wrath a la Jehovah.
May your awareness of your life give you pleasures great and small.
The only culturally specific chant I know is an uneven cry amounting to a quiet scream.
I am angry with myself for allowing a homeless man to briefly watch pornography on my computer. I have no couth, no modulation in my relations with others. No one will teach me how to develop it or where it comes from.
Lesbians change.
The Goddess changes.
I have tried to embrace the beauty in life that so much of what is culturally transmitted attempts to hide.
Please understand that a poem that fails to believe in its own beauty is a way to coldness.
I am trying at the same time to integrate myself, to integrate the world around me, and to separate myself from that which seems to be destructive as well as separate what does not seem to me to belong together.
This began as an intellectual project, but now I understand that without putting life first, it can become prelude to horrible destructive acts. I just wanted to go back to myth, in my own life and in my intellect, to undo the separation between poetry and philosophy that Plato introduced into our "civilization." Now I am clinging to the shreds of wholeness that remain.
You probably want to stop reading what I am writing. Before I go, let me simply let go of the sick pressure to communicate in coherent language what must first emerge from spirit, feeling and love.
I hope you will read this and not think it a total regression. I've attempted that also. It does not work, leading only to a self-enclosed entity without outward activity or inward awareness; in other words, a kind of death.
Say, how about them artist softball players?
You know that it's okay today because no one is making my anger anything but a distraction from hope and not an unbearable and inescapable wrath a la Jehovah.
May your awareness of your life give you pleasures great and small.
Monday, May 7, 2012
The River is Dreaming
I oblige you no longer.
This song flows with embers from a melting rock;
It is cold as the peace by which trammeled opposites search for honor's desired unity.
(Famine will sell its bonds even to occult guides, giving
No reason to like pain, which runs to asherah with lowered jaws.)
Pockets of acrimony are left for me to inspect.
Because they do not suffice, I pour art into
Streams wandering the abyss.
The auk framed her extinction with a soft murmur; I stay to give fists to my hopes.
This song flows with embers from a melting rock;
It is cold as the peace by which trammeled opposites search for honor's desired unity.
(Famine will sell its bonds even to occult guides, giving
No reason to like pain, which runs to asherah with lowered jaws.)
Pockets of acrimony are left for me to inspect.
Because they do not suffice, I pour art into
Streams wandering the abyss.
The auk framed her extinction with a soft murmur; I stay to give fists to my hopes.
Friday, April 20, 2012
I'm leaving today
These are the words that Mr. Frank Sinatra sang in the intro to the famous New York, New York anthem.
I have done the reverse.
It is becoming more unlikely that I will move back. I finally did a pro and con list about the very subject and realized that the only reason to move would be to fulfill my distended ambitions.
Yet somehow I wish to see people with whom I have had so much love.
These same people seem to think that I would be making a mistake even to visit and that the irritability quotient might be too high. I have to remember this and take it into account.
I do not believe I belong here either.
There really isn't much to say right now.
I am encouraged to note that the NY Times doubts Sarkozy will win. Maybe something positive will take place in Europe.
Pointless.
Anyhow, let's all be considerate today of the birds and the bees and the flowers and the trees.
Embarrassing to admit, but I really am soft on the Goddess. I think she does a lot that brings out the best in people and in me.
Salut,
Julia M.
Amber Palooka
I have done the reverse.
It is becoming more unlikely that I will move back. I finally did a pro and con list about the very subject and realized that the only reason to move would be to fulfill my distended ambitions.
Yet somehow I wish to see people with whom I have had so much love.
These same people seem to think that I would be making a mistake even to visit and that the irritability quotient might be too high. I have to remember this and take it into account.
I do not believe I belong here either.
There really isn't much to say right now.
I am encouraged to note that the NY Times doubts Sarkozy will win. Maybe something positive will take place in Europe.
Pointless.
Anyhow, let's all be considerate today of the birds and the bees and the flowers and the trees.
Embarrassing to admit, but I really am soft on the Goddess. I think she does a lot that brings out the best in people and in me.
Salut,
Julia M.
Amber Palooka
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Flying
Dean aisle.
You know?
Anywho, the art is tic (etc.) trials that I have undergone have certainly become tedious. I am now becoming more interested in teaching the tribulations that judgment produces in those who have become party to peace.
Peace has been my underlying value for so long, but now I have managed to bring to it various self-tortures and a great distance from any practical change. I take this to mean that I have isolated it and myself as an abstract and do not have much of an inkling as where to go from here. Surprise!
None of this matters that much, except that I strive to have some reason to keep on going and to make decisions on things I believe in. Somehow this becomes, "Shit! I'm a crock/crook/c**ehead/c**ks***er!" This too is irrelevant. I thought that if I made anybody love me, then I would make somebody strong. Now it seems that I have made kindness and hope more or less alien. This is not at all my intention. Please, those of you who may have some interest in what goes on in the life and mind of another individual who has played some role in your emotional/intellectual/physical/spiritual self, realize that much change is happening that I believe means that I am on the verge of some degree of healing to the extent that I can be part of the social world that I could not maintain a place in.
Thus always doth a separate existence make attempts to hope.
Secondly, I am hoping also to be safe.
Thirdly, stress with my female progenitor is increasing due to some uptick in her debilities.
Fourthly, may joy and freedom be strong for you.
Reading this over, I realize I have not said much. I will never again be a third wheel. I will never make being strong an excuse for destroying other's peace. As you know, everything that gives one safety is also something that will bring happiness. A straw woman.
Julia M.
You know?
Anywho, the art is tic (etc.) trials that I have undergone have certainly become tedious. I am now becoming more interested in teaching the tribulations that judgment produces in those who have become party to peace.
Peace has been my underlying value for so long, but now I have managed to bring to it various self-tortures and a great distance from any practical change. I take this to mean that I have isolated it and myself as an abstract and do not have much of an inkling as where to go from here. Surprise!
None of this matters that much, except that I strive to have some reason to keep on going and to make decisions on things I believe in. Somehow this becomes, "Shit! I'm a crock/crook/c**ehead/c**ks***er!" This too is irrelevant. I thought that if I made anybody love me, then I would make somebody strong. Now it seems that I have made kindness and hope more or less alien. This is not at all my intention. Please, those of you who may have some interest in what goes on in the life and mind of another individual who has played some role in your emotional/intellectual/physical/spiritual self, realize that much change is happening that I believe means that I am on the verge of some degree of healing to the extent that I can be part of the social world that I could not maintain a place in.
Thus always doth a separate existence make attempts to hope.
Secondly, I am hoping also to be safe.
Thirdly, stress with my female progenitor is increasing due to some uptick in her debilities.
Fourthly, may joy and freedom be strong for you.
Reading this over, I realize I have not said much. I will never again be a third wheel. I will never make being strong an excuse for destroying other's peace. As you know, everything that gives one safety is also something that will bring happiness. A straw woman.
Julia M.
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Keeping it Real
Since all this atrocity of apollo has made change suck, I say that you are kind and that you have made running too cruel to keep doing.
Every place that is safe brings me love.
Now, I hope you will believe that someone is dreaming of plastic.
Me a woman.
Love,
Julia.
Every place that is safe brings me love.
Now, I hope you will believe that someone is dreaming of plastic.
Me a woman.
Love,
Julia.
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