Love 3

Jaded

I fell in love once, it was probably a big mistake

Like the belly ache you get after you eat an entire cake

Like the morning after hangover that felt like it’d never go away

Like the nun who fucked the priest who then found she couldn’t pray

Like the man who climbed the hill just to see another

Like the sister who killed herself so she could save her brother

I don’t know anymore if it’s worth it, I know it’s certainly not sane

To crave an expectation that overcomes your brain.

To crave a state of awareness so keen your bones go weak

To crave a situation in which you become the freak.

And…

I know there’s more to love than this grave apprehension

I know it’s the spice of life, it’s godly intervention

But I didn’t get it wrong that time, I once grasped at the real thing

And it shattered me to pieces, I still have a broken wing

So…

Love, you ask, love you say? Sure, I know it’s there.

But to survive it nowadays, I bargain with a sure-to-end-love care…

See, I always wear my warmers; my reflexes are nice and ready

To leap at a moment’s notice if a He is anything less than steady.

I trust my intuition. I’m generally spot on.

I preemptively always know before a He will move a pawn

So am I getting hopeful now?  Is the spark not completely dead?

I do want there to be a possibility for this heartbroken head.

Oh it’s funny. Love, come on! I mused you so wittily out of existence.

But the hope of you still has me, despite my mindful sad resistance.

Love love love, love love love.

You’re the greatest thing in the world.

I will always feel most true to that

Like how naturally my hair is super curled…

creepy baby says it all...

hoarders, the 1st grade version

Cecilia

Hello, my name is Celilia!

I have lots of memerobilia.

I like to play, then stow it away,

Cause I might really REALLY NEED it one day.

I don’t mind if the day never comes,

So long as nobody calls me dumb,

Cause if it starts to pour and rain,

While everyone else goes insane,

I’ll be singin’ the I told you so game!

me thinks this doll sends the wrong message...

and i'm blaming this wrong message for my uncanny ability to hang onto so very many t-shirts.  "How could i get rid of that one," i cry, "it's from the battle of the bands!!!" or "that shirt might be totally perfect for an audition i might have one day!" or "awww that shirt is sentimental...something...well, something good happened in it. gotta keep it!" yikes.

Spirituality 2

The agnostic pigeon?

There was this pigeon with no religion

And he didn’t have much to say

And sometimes he envied the pigeons with faith,

Cause they seemed so filled with style and grace.

With strength and security and honest maturity.

With direction and meaning, they didn’t stress about spring cleaning.

But rather they doted on the life here after,

They had peace and no curiosity about that super high rafter.

Still somehow he couldn’t buy into it all

And questioning them was like engaging a wall.

So fed up one day this pigeon flew away. 

He flew so far to a place you couldn’t get to with even a car!

Who knows what he did while he was gone

But when he came back it was like a civilization dawn.

He’d turned white as light.

And had clearly lost his itchy plight.

He was no longer annoyed didn’t feel the need to question

He’d just relaxed under some NEW direction.

Maybe he’d touched the sun?  did what the poor sparrow couldn’t.

Maybe he’d finally found god, found answers to all the shoulds and shouldn’ts.

All were in awe of his new self.

It seemed a vision of spiritual wealth!

An embodiement of good…an embodiment of clean, an embodiment of everything extraordinary and serene.

I still wonder to this day what the pigeon was doing

I wonder how he changed so much to stop all his poo pooing.

And when he was interviewed the day after last

A fear took hold of me inappropriately fast

For he claimed he didn’t now, nor never believed

And I was kind of shocked to see I felt utterly relieved.

See, I never really waxed hard on what it was that I actually thought

And now I’m scared I’ll need to fly away and question what I’ve been taught.

me hugging the agnostic pigeon. clearly.

Public Transportation and Spirituality:

Subway

Millions of people have sat where I sit.

Millions of people all dimly lit

I wonder if there’s some cosmic design

To where I have sat…our communal behind.

pretty sure this cat knows the answer...

pretty sure cats were gods in ancient egypt...

feeling very tom robbins right now...

aw man! remember when all we all read was tom robbins!? 

Oh how i loved thee, Still Life With Woodpecker...

if you, reader, follow me here, you're probably awesome.

if you don't, that's ok, you're probably still awesome cause you're actually reading this.

brain reverts to 6th grade poetry, i still like it.

Have you had this nightmare? It freakin' BLOWS

I’ve got to get out of here

I yell and screech and scream

But I can’t really hear myself

I’m a walking breathing dream

I try to pinch arm for safety

I bang on locked and bolted doors

But I’m irrationally stuck

My feet can’t leave the floors

My body separates

into shattered broken glass

The pieces look like jewelry

but the gold has turned to brass

My heart aches from the inside out

It’s a sore and battered bruise

there’s a sharp and keen awareness

An encroaching finish line with a sign that says, “you lose”

I’m desparate now for my alarm

This can’t be real, I sense it

But the way out is eclipsed to me

It’s a middle of the night suspense hit

I pray for my positive living nature

to sway this nasty part of my head

that finally something auspicious

Will help me feel safe again in bed.

Though possibly this is where

The violence in me lurks

It’s only in my REM

Does the devil get her perks.

And thus in this restless sleeping state

I’m reminded that waking life, in fact, is heaven

That this horrible reality will at long last end

when my alarm admits it’s seven.

I’ll be grateful for my yoga class

I’ll be grateful for my sassy awesome gig

I’ll feel inspired by the sunlight

I’ll dance a stupid god bless coffee jig

My costumes will be awesome

My lines will all be learned

And I will be loved and everyloving

This dream forever will be burned.

Addendum:

So since the night will come again

And so it doesn’t haunt me

I wrote it down so it’s in the past

my subconscious can't continue to taunt me.

I feel like I’ve won this battle

With my hellish inner brain

But now all I want to do is sleep all day

Bad dreams traded for amazing dream cocaine.

Dani Rules

She-ra’s dilemma

the woes of being the princess of power…

Oh the strain, the weight the utter annoyance,

Of having such innate, acute and cunning clairvoyance,

I always know when something’s amiss

Cause I hear SOS! like a a serpentile hiss

It comes to me fast and shocks me every time

That something’s awry, there’s been some kind of crime.

And then I’ll have to fly off and deal

Instead of eating my piping hot meal.

I’ll don my new cat suit, my choice hero outfit,

Cause that’s how they dreamt it and that’s how they like it.

And when alls said and done with the stealth of a mime,

I’ll feel pretty good that I came just in time.

…And then I’ll feel guilty, having been so irate.

Intuitions a gift, not a terrible fate.

So maybe I won’t get the last cheesestick at chilis,

But return to my “life” like a mili vanili.*

But still it’s aggravating being ever interrupted.

Maybe that’s why power is so oftly corrupted.

We tend to spite what we’re meant to help out

If we have no us time to idle about.

But how does one change their wacked out routine

When a rescuer’s schedule is perpetually unseen.

It’s not like these victims’ deliberately started this fad

Of being abducted during every first date I ever had!

Danielle.

(cause i'm pretty sure my cousin is a super-hero.)

*milli vanilli were popstars in the 80s who, as it turns out, were lip synching all their awesome music...remember "blame it on the rain...yeah yeah..."

my theoretical picture book will have to be a picture of a hot girl explaining to her hot date that something just came up...maybe the superhero outfit is poking out of her bag.

TV Zombie

Guilty Pleasure

Tv is so asinine, 

it’s so completely vain,

it makes me pull my hair out

and slightly go insane

cause most of it is stupid

it’s hypnotic anti think

but I absolutely love it

it’s my own neuro shrinking drink. 

in my theoretical picture book, I will have a drawing of a man hugging a television....or a man walking into tv addicts anonymous...hmmm