January 15, 2004
-
quiet lives
On our beds
Hum ratiocinations
Warmed by the limitless ways
We’re caught upIn the pandering.
At the movies,
We guffaw and ogle;
Our emotions running
Away to a screen
Rife with fantasy and nightmarishFlashes of the unlivable and wanted.
In the car,
Whistling and looking,
You are packed in the angryNumbing crinkle of yesterday -
His black words wrapping fish:Eyes fogged,
Staring roundly
Toward eternity.In secret,
I pray for the means
To be simple things,
Fresh and fibrous -
Like the legumes
On our dinner plates
Breaking.
—
Somme 6 (Max Pechstein)
—
Matter of Fact
Life can make you numb. I’ve got ambition in the big and small and generally, my disposition is sunny; I seem to do pretty well. Each day brings a lot of laughter and genuine human interaction. I’ve been making it a point to really talk and listen, to meet people in a way that’s just simple, honest and lighthearted (when appropriate). Of course, I’ll still talk politics at lunch.I’m moving forward, living a dream, each day in the right direction. In a short time, I’ll be up in the sky wearing man pajamas (really). I don’t thank God enough. He’s good.
This week, I remembered that life changes just like that. Just like that, we neglect faith; we lose faith; we lose our health; we lose our sight; we fall in love; we make it past the yellow light; we decide we’re fat; we find God again.
It’s awesome and humbling.
—
Some things are better left unsaid.
—“Winning the title for a second time from Michael Moorer was a special moment.
But it was nothing beyond that. A week later, people were heaping praises on me,
And it was hard because you gotta act like it’s still important.
But it was already over.”
George Foreman
Comments (18)
wow
Like your writings – and appropriate illustrations!
You write… something close to perfect.
“You are packed in the angry
Numbing crinkle of yesterday -His black words wrapping fish:”
That line was so good, I read it three times. The whole poem was striking, one of those things that stops you in the middle of living (or not living). I’ve only been to New York once, and I sat in the middle of Broadway on a bench on the median. Yellow taxis, lights, bags with people beneath… I sat there and watched as if I were the only part of the movie that hadn’t been fast forwarded.
your poetry is beautiful. one day ill get to do that…haha. and that picture is adorable. kidsss are cuties.
simplicity is a masterful gesture. it’s quite enjoyable to read your page
wow…this site is the most beautiful i’ve seen so far on xanga…amazing.
The Woman of Danger
you write. illustrate. quote auden. and you’re asian. koowel. =)
i didn’t know that i liked george foreman.
thanks for the comment you left =)
man pajamas.. heh.
laughter is like sweet-flavored medicinal juice flowing through your blood.. it’s good.
M A,
Beautiful and thought-provoking.
AR
I love that quiet lives bit on top. Nice. Where does all this creative juice flow from? I suppose it just comes to naturally to some. =)
We may get the Diane Reims show, I’m not sure. I just discovered 89.1 a few days ago, it was a musical renaissance listening to the World Cafe. I fear it will consume me entirely.that poem was so wonderfully lovely!
living a dream.
the comments that people leave you read like film criticism xP
A question… is there a particular poet who serves as inspiration? You have a unique voice that’s truly lovely.
Post again?
i don’t thank God nearly enough, either. it’s on my to-do list this year. *grin* it’s eve btw.
I’ve actually been to offensively few museums (I’m young yet), so the LACMA is on my list. Any other museum suggestions? How is MOCA?