Metastasis

Hello,

Alone.

Mecklenburg.

Land is free (now).

Okay.

You with your beasts; me with my places.

I ordered you to God (he knows his base is act)

Crack was not yes to order.

I resemble the love I have made.

You are men with reasons.  All people are men if only because men are truthful.

Delusional anger is toward my own memory.

Lady.

I am not a lady.

Goddess:  Below is As Above.

Supernumerary alterations are feelings of peace.  I remember that you and I have thought of what had hope.  Such were open and free.

I can write if I only let go of my poesy.

Dread the remembrance of crack.  I do not like it.  I do not need it. 

These words do not capture the pain that was known to me as:  I crawled for my rug.  I cried for my leaf.

Leaves, branches, roots, stems, bark, canopy, woods, forests, copses, and then a meadow filled with
grasses of various appearance.

You know when you are a pasta:  You eat rice.

This means that everyone is what they hope for.

That is my logic.

Activism

Meth of ground rice;
Element of past.

Flow is marsha's pain.

I remember that Sylvia thought:
(Illusion is mark.)

Delaying my freedom is not
Helping to listen for failure.

This tone towards my own life does not become my sparkling character.

I have an "uncomfortable lightness of being."

Write:  Write:  Write:

Gift from my mother:
I hear her saying,
"You are first ... embers have home."

Dat was not a lot of beauty.

Kind words for a sour mama.

I remember you (myself) are the mama I am referring to.

You, I, We, They, Me, That, This, His, Her:

Sex with hoses are naturally painful.

Woman laugh;
Laugh My Ass Off:  Clouds war flask is full.

Illness.

I thought that I knew what you did.
I thought that I knew what I was.

I thought that there was laughter
In cream.

Lesbian dream is to make left.

inches

Orphans
Rowdies

Payment
Femininity

Gandalf
Round

Blame
Loom




Energy that I expend on wistfulness is beginning to feel loud (stale, occluding, old).

I know that you are good for oceanic pampering.

William go to your place.
You are bossing a gram.

I have known that your pain makes rinsing off love cruel.


Central House -- bathtub in the winter -- steam rising from heated water.




There is no writhing here of water vapor lest it be from a pan or a cup.  It doesn't get cold enough.





I race the plaster ring.



Home began that epoch when Love was trapped in its own lope toward people's remnant of molting.






I have a few clues.

There is a place where our lives take me as trauma.

I reject life making me a plaster rope.



This knowledge makes me seek trees.
I know that certain words are recurring -- trees, e.g., -- these words are strengthening or focal in one way or another to my life.  I must unravel their relationship to the broader set of expressions so that they are not so compact that they are opaque.

Thank you very much -- I love expository prose.

Poet:

Floral hopes resemble dream
Which leads to rendering play free.

I am nowhere near giving my strength the dream of blessing.

I know:  dream, tree, amber.

The dream of the amber tree
Proceeded from the abeyance of self-censorship.

You who read this loud body of western strength:
Try to need your place.

At: Go(ld)al

Trash it for its dream of slipping on the mentor.

As far as it goes I read way too loudly.

You have made this goddess lace.

I am not the goddess, therefore, I plead with you to let go of blond fiend.


Priests gild the anger with placation.
I know you are far.

Down with oafs.
Up with sons.

You know this is going toward a reciprocal laughter -- I can pay you to justify your grappling with trees.

These discoveries of my unethical grounding/development scare me.

I was in the hospital again last night.
My chest pains were not serious enough to keep me past this morning.

I have been taking too much blood thinner.

I hate my doctor's lack of careful treatment.

So now I list open lore.

Moment here is moment's lever.
I laugh because I say floss is mental.


Drag your plane across the runway
I will be at the gate, soterior (what does that word mean?) reason for your poem.

Grant that moments make up life.


May all the force of Sandy expend itself without damage to my friends.

Algorithm for algae:  Glass.

Surface reflections

Law
Custom
Ritual
Belief


Now that I've taken care of those...


Ethics


The Imperial Chinese political and social arrangements were certainly as valid as those of Medieval and Renaissance Europe, at least as far as I can tell from reading half a book about the Chinese empire.  There were expected ways of carrying on life by the elite that relied heavily on artistic and intellectual achievement, which I of course have always favored; and these ways compare favorably with the cobbling together of "universal" law as a glue for societies divided and impoverished by the loss of the unity (of a kind) that the Romans provided.

I write this only to demonstrate that when American and other politicians go on about the sanctity of the rule of law, they know very well that they are asserting only a very partial understanding of the varied ways in which human societies have often very successfully worked.  The place of the individual, of ethics, belief, ritual and custom, are made abstract thereby contributing to the ever-present confusion about the relations of people to the government and to each other.  Is there a valid human justification for this?  I don't know.  All I know is that there is more than one way to skin a cat.

Now for the inchoate personal stuff.

I have found myself wondering what I can do about my life at this possibly late stage.  I wish to tell each and every one of my friends that I love them.  I do not know how to become better than I am.  I am sorry.



Important attributes that are hustling a rose:

Me.


I wish to engage my life with freedom, devotion, happiness.

May all your steampunk endeavors yield brassy fruit.

And maybe all your life will be free.

Love,

Julia




someone with dreams of safety is real.

A mound of shite, glazed.

remnants of racism

Land of shopping

Res judicata

Dragging life into this city.

After knowledge

Hindsight.

Laughter at my lantern:  I proceeded like Diogenes, not seeing the beauty in me.

There is good that I raided.  There is good that made crack gross.

I talk a lot about what is free.  I say that when being hopeful is strong (when it is strong in you -- a person) that it is strong because of the people who have strength.

I give love short shrift -- I don't trust my own love.  I don't believe that when people claim they have a lover that it is me they are talking about.

Laugh here.

Lesbians who are trans are teaching this laughter.

I remember that it is all life.  Death is life.  Life is life.  There is no nothing.

Limp of plague I do read.

My mother and those who have made me separate (not necessarily my mother or with their knowledge, inclination or approval; i.e., those whom I have used to separate myself) are strong.  I give myself the complicit approval of dreams.

Life is flowing away from me, I believe.

Toward me flows a lot of love.

Maybe you will understand.

I continue.

The knowledge that I had of myself was that I had prior standing (before the members of MGN) EVEN though I was a closed fleece.

This was because I had been where the life of my friends was life.  I thus (apparently) never did think that the rules applied to me.

This was both fortunate and very very unfortunate.  The friends I had were beautiful.  The friends I made were beautiful.  I have lost all of them by keeping two separate categories.

One is:  "I dream therefore I live"

Two is:  "Goddess stayed with her mick."

Slamslamslamslam.

Those are doors in my mind shutting down in stark horror.

This feeling that no one understood me was a way of disguising and excusing a lack of reasonableness.

I rest because I have said what was so frustrating:  I knew freedom of behavior, but not of belief.

You may now be necessary.  I shall be lock.

Chelsea, you are what began the art.  Should I live, I bequeath you dream -- chastity.

Now I am recessive.

A very brief note

Withdrawal from hormones is causing me to gag, throw up, feel generally uncomfortable.  I am trying to find out what's down the road.  I hope my doctors realize I'm post-op.  I also threw up my Coumadin today.  I think I should be in the hospital???


I just wanted to like people.


So much for perfection.

Okay, it's okay.

Raw, Censored

Elements of Love

Blown crystal:
Swirling blue
Pinkish hue

Illness flees
Shorthand bees

Chance goes back
Altering tack

Beautiful time
Supporting rhyme

Warmth inside
Life undried

Joy-cast  mold:
New threshhold.

Passing night
Ending plight.

To complete --
 Field of wheat

Results

B
C\ R
U


Crab tells me many rose:
Goddess is l
e
mom

Tray of narcissism:
Key to my own.


Love your peace with trees.

I love my body:  its brazen gravy crackin' piss.

I love my woven plait of roses:
Tell me

Why are you in this crack of loud men?

Death was here with me:
I spoke in the language of pain.

His knowledge of me was interesting:
You are beautiful.

I love the grief that I was needing.

This was my life:
Penguins with mustard (and onions?)

Craft seeks love with dreams that give safety:
They are also the need for mustard.

(Mustard)
(Master)

Crash into my sexuality with your big shaft.

I will know your honesty as dreams.

I will know your pain as matter's tree.

Your laughter will give me a belief in loss.





Moose.

Creep.

All together now.

Lass gave her needs a lot of  aggravation,



My Nest:

You with your life in your smile
I with my trace in my aisle.

Come up, you.





Tension

That which needs slack
Is that which holds back.





Organism

Cats with tails
Rest on sails;

Combs with teeth
Make the wreath.



Potatoes and Flour

Grading the Crime
Loses the Time

I remember when
Base was open.



Latter day romney

Make his binder
Flick his minder.

Oh Goddess,

With these words I raise
Your sacred praise;

With these words I seek
To let go of a peak.

I resemble a wish
That grabbed a niche.

Your Mental Door

No Fear, No Sore