Saturday, February 26, 2011

my heart pulled apart

there is a death inside of me
it takes me deep into the waves
the surf and the storm and the surge
makes it hard for me to see
bearing navigation becomes irrelevent
because my own love has drown me
im pulling my heart apart in pieces
hoping you wont toss me aside
and the salt water burns
my eyes and my throat
there is no land for a heart so lost
just deeper currents to swim

Saturday, February 19, 2011

some small poems on loving you

i am the roots and the tree,
you are the air and the wind,
holding my branches rooted to the sun
as i hold you to the earth.
i listen to the vibrations of the curve,
you look like radial sunshine and
to kiss you is like kissing open up the universe.


hold my heart, open in your hands
take me apart, then youll understand
this is more than just in my blood
it's in my flesh and in my nerves
it's salt water mist, wind blown to your hair
while your standing on the sand at the shore

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

already know the stories of my life

grateful dead - high time

You told me goodbye, how was I to know
you didn't mean goodbye, you meant please don't let me go?

I was having a high time, living the good life, well I know

The wheels are muddy, got a ton of hay,
now listen here, Baby, 'cause I mean what I say.

I'm having a hard time, living the good life, well I know.

I was losing time, I had nothing to do,
no one to fight, I came to you.
Wheels broke down, leader won't draw,
the line is busted, the last one I saw.
Tomorrow come trouble, tomorrow come pain,
now don't think too hard Baby, 'cause I know what I'm saying.

I could show you a high time, living the good life, don't be that way.

Nothing's for certain, it could always go wrong,

We could have us a high time, living the good life, well I know.

Saturday, February 12, 2011

on our paths

we were on a star stretched plain
you were running far ahead of me
i was walking so simply
you twist around and yell at me
how did we get this far
i return your call, look how far we've come
you take one small step in my direction
and suddenly you fly towards me
wrap your arms around
you say look how far we've come together

Thursday, February 10, 2011

royksopp - what else is there

It was me on that road
But you couldn't see me
Too many lights out, but nowhere near here

It was me on that road
Still you couldn't see me
And then flashlights and explosions

Roads end getting nearer
We cover distance but not together

I am the storm I am the wonder
And the flashlights nightmares
And sudden explosions

I don't know what more to ask for
I was given just one wish

It's about you and the sun
A morning run
The story of my maker
What I have and what I ache for

I've got a golden ear
I cut and I spear
And what else is there

Roads and getting nearer
We cover distance still not together

If I am the storm if I am the wonder
Will I have a flashlights nightmares
And sudden explosions

There's no room where I can go and
You've got secrets too

I don't know what more to ask for
I was given just one wish

the devil is just another way for christians to kill off other's culture

living in the universe knowing you exist

I felt star crossed
like a plot on a line
set on a distant path
my heart set on fire
self-immolating gas
to see light years
after I have left space

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

a little bit of a story

there was a rose sitting in the window sill,
it dried a little each day in the sun,
the smooth petals fastened into wrinkles,
like skin on your face with the summer sun,
the wrinkles are lines becoming roads on a map,
to trace back each step we took,
so that when we have come far away from where we began,
we can be confident where we stand
looking around at all we can grasp in our hands

a letter to travis kerschen of a thousand cranes

maybe you can pretend to be my therapist and i can tell you what i've been going through as of late.
its really wild shit, like your music. its amazing to listen to it, its like a meditation. most art is i believe. im not good at quiet meditation. i stopped doing heroin this year. it was my resolution and probably the only one in my life i will successfully stick too. i quit doing coke because it became inconvenient. heroin however i only quit because i came to quite a desperate time in my life. i couldnt see myself go on living the way i was living. i was watching myself outside of myself and i realized i could never get back to myself unless i made that change. i started getting sober in november, relapsed a few times, but havent used since jan 3. ive never experienced anything like that with anything ive ever done. i would have a lot of people tell me there were toxins built up in my body. it was the reason for such and such. they never would say to my face they knew i was using but i knew they knew. on january first a friend told me i was healer and that was the reason i had come into her life. thats what solidified it for me. i knew she was right, i also knew there was no way possible i could do anything to heal anything outside of myself, until i had done a thorough healing of myself. i am still in that process. there are lots of things i am doing to cleanse my body. im trying some meditations ive never tried before. im learning about herbal medicine. im going to do some raw fooding etc. i am not a whole and complete person by any means. i can only imagine my spirit is full of blank spots in which i have been slowly creating through all my self destructive behaviours. maybe you can reikei (sp?) me from a distance? i think about all the healers i know in my life, all of my shamans. that is how i know my friend must be right. I have been paying at least some attention to what is going on around me. it overwhelmes me how these people come into my world and I fall in love with the beauty of it. like i know i cant heal, i also know i cant love with out a whole being to love with. i recently met a person that i was overwhelmed by, and i opened myself up honestly. i told him a few things about my past and at that moment he didnt think anything of it. two weeks of silence go by and he just now gets back to me with, "i cant risk any of it right now, i cant be in a relationship with another junkie, i cant be anything more than friends". i feel stupid for being so honest with a person. i know his feelings are completely valid and i wish i could have been some one different because i feel like i will be suffering from my past for a very long time. im really scare it might be forever.

Tuesday, February 8, 2011


JESUS CHRIST IT'S HIPPIES. Hippies and former Vikings head coach Brad Childress.

Read more:

i've been carrying this around in my pocket constantly, now i know why

Quartz, Fairy (White Fairy Quartz)
Fairy Quartz is a fledgling Spirit Quartz, showing the milky white lazer wand point and a light coating of smaller crystals growing on it. Fairy Quartz has a very soothing energy, which brings peace and calm to those in its energy field, including the groups, families, and individuals. This soothing energy is extremely beneficial for emotional pain or illness. It also brings heightened energy even as it calms. Fairy Quartz is great for meditation. Physically, Fairy Quartz is used for detoxifying the body and tissues, removing pain, and overall healing.
This crystal can be used in meditation to provide insights to family and/or community problems. It has also been used to activate and cleans other minerals, enhance the energy transfer of other minerals to stimulate healing on all levels, increase both physical and intellectual fertility, provide protection from harm, dreaming and astral projection.
I believe this is most likely my wand.

edit - i lost this little rock. i think i had filled it to the brim with my sickness and as most necessary things, the world carried it away from me. i am sorry i lost something, but i am not sorry i lost the sickness with it.

Saturday, February 5, 2011

so thats what they were talking about

the rapture - the coming of spring

Get yourself together!
Get out of your head
Without outer persuasions
You're better off dead
Learn how to breathe
You'd better learn how to shine
These obser-ma-vations
Are mah-ma-ma, mah-ma-ma,

Down on your knees
Pleading for life
Shards of a mirror
And twist of a knife
So get yourself together
Unwrapped ball of twine
These obser-ma-vations
are mah-ma-ma, mah-ma-ma,

(one heart) No, nah-no
(one heart) No, nah-no
(one heart) No, nah-no
(one heart) No, nah-no

Thursday, February 3, 2011

That seemed natural.

I’ve never been good at writing about the past. I’m focusing on living in the present, and forgetting the bad memories seems to be vital to this process. It’s impossible though, to go on living as though something never happened. You ignore it long enough, until one day all of a sudden, reality overwhelms you. To persevere you confront your past self, face to face. The first time was after high school graduation. The impending decision of college and hypothetically, the rest of my life. As it turns out, I made the wrong choice and was in this situation over and over again.

Some people don’t face it. They just dance right by. They’re just listening to the rhythm, they’re not counting it, nor are they in time. It’s close, but not like fluid love.

It was another hot, South Texas Fourth of July. I was going to be attending a small local Catholic University the next fall. A musical friend from the Houston rave scene had invited me to a barbeque at his house in the Heights. It was my first real time spent in the Houston Heights, a neighborhood just north of down town past the first inner loop. I didn’t realize how close I would come to know this little creative cradle in the city.

I walked into the front door of John Dunnock’s fourth ward home and the house was empty with the exception of noise drifting in from the back door through the kitchen. The living room was filled with musical instruments from a full five piece band. Alone on the arm of a couch across from the rest of the set was tambourine meant to be added to cymbal stand of a drum kit. I heard some laughter from outside, which gave me a twinge of anxiety and I put that tambourine away in my car. I’m not a big kleptomaniac but I felt I it would be safe for future use. Most barbeques gave me anxiety, but at John’s we could play whatever records we wanted and there were vegan patties with Swiss burgers and barbeque sauce. That burger was a staple in my life.
It’s hard to say when I invited Motion Turns It On, the house band, back to my car for a bowl. I noticed Derrick looked like the person to smoke with. He asked if his friends could come, gathered up Little John, Steve and Bill, who shared a birthday with me. I felt I had just met the most real people at this barbeque filled with faces I had always seen but never known.

We got to talking about music when we were in my green SUV, passing a pipe. When they said they were all in a band together and had just played at Dunnock’s house, that’s when I realized the tambourine I had grabbed belonged to one of them. I pulled out the tambourine and said that it needed a friend. Steve, the bands drummer said that I could keep it, as long as I play it in their band for them. That seemed natural.

Throughout the next year I would meet them on the first floor, in room seven, of the Francisco Lofts just east of down town Houston in the industrial warehouse district.

I was familiar with this space, since I had been coming to this crevice of the city as a teen exploring the rave era. A friend had once thrown a party on the fourth floor, most of it was an art party for the artists there to show off their art. I saw Rebecca French and her dance company, Freneticore, perform. I went to an audition with Freneticore and joined the dance company for two years. It took me a while to determine which practice space was seven. But out of the maze of studios, two were filled with sound, and one with Motion Turns It On.

I memorized that door as a position in a star filled constellation that my heart kept as a safe space to always return to. I tried singing for them and I tried playing the piano for them. I couldn’t find that my melody fit with them. I was most receptive to Steve teaching me how to play the drums. I was a rhythm specialist with all my days spent dancing and counting music. I tried to bring my poetry to practice one day, but Little John was the only one who could read the rhythm in my verses and he was the one I felt confidence with I needed to share these feelings with out loud. I asked him to let me practice drums for him on guitar. He had some things he wanted to play that he couldn’t get out in MTIO and I had some things I needed to say but I didn’t know how.

I don’t like reading to people, I wasn’t comfortable, but I had to keep speaking. John put me in front of the drums and had me keep simple rhythms while he worked out his mind via the guitar. Sometimes he would compliment me so well, telling me the thing I just got out of my head was “just right,” and then “play it again, only faster and over and over again”. I know of making one recording on a simple four-track cassette recorder at the Leeland house late one night. I was impressed we had ever gotten something down as a finished song. Because of that recording, it’s the song we both can still remember how to play. It was my first real lesson in the importance of putting down your material for future reference, a tool I still don’t utilize as often as I should. Mostly, we specialized in incoherent screams and tribal grunge rock. We were often referred to Bauhaus for some reason I’m not sure, I don’t listen to them.

I was obsessed with The Vaselines, The Pixies, and The Flaming Lips at the time. All this was influenced by Little John. Every time I would mess up, John would tell me the right words to get it going again. Everything made sense. I had moved into the Leeland house, which was the cause of the unfortunate disappearance of my most prized kitten Shade. Every night we spent at the practice space or at that house, was like a 90’s music video to me, just ten years too late.

I know we did ok as a band because when we played upstairs in Rudyard’s Pub no one walked out in the middle of our set. I wore a fringed out disco wedding dress I had borrowed from Kelly Smelly and my authentic silver blue sky, Doc Martens. We had invited our friend Justin to help us with the crash cymbal to help keep me focused on the vocals and my anxiety low. When we finished I ran off stage and hid behind a stack and John played one final last song solo. The audience clapped and cheered after every song. There’s nothing like screaming your feelings out loud. There was nothing comparable after that. In fact, I experienced a long void of creativity. I felt all my means were incomparable to what I needed to express. The last show we played together was at Dean’s Home of Easy Credit on Main street in down town Houston. We were almost in a wreck on the way to the show when some one ran a red light. That night threw me and I didn’t feel comfortable playing again.

John and I had also spent lots of time apart before that set. I had just gotten out of the detrimental relationship with Shane also marking the beginning of my sobriety from cocaine. This was a new state of mind and marked the impending move to Washington, to explore life in a different view. Sometimes everything is dancing all around you. The people, the music, the lights, you go out in time for the street lights to come on and refuse to return home till they’ve gone off again. It’s the motivation to stay awake at night, and sleep during hot southern heat.