anti.social

Several years had passed and talking to others became refreshing and I was drawn off my guard. I could hold a dialogue with you, maybe withstand an argument. Then I could look into your eyes without losing my train of thought. Then you wouldn't mistake me for dishonest. My skin became a millimeter thicker and I wasn't so cold at night. Then I was not so sensitive to things you said. My social norm restoration experiment was paying off. Life was less a collection of used parts and problems I wished would only die away. Engagement became rewarding if not organic. I set my clock to the frequency of several functions a day. I demanded no less than I show up. Not every meeting was reciprocated, and not all of those that were, bore fruit. I found only one good conversation a day (face to face) was enough to keep my finger on the pulse of culture.

pattaya 2007

I remember when I looked emaciated like those boys trapped on Pattaya beach in the Thai cave licking the limestone walls. My life driven by anger and fear took me there in my twenties and again in my thirties. I was in certain darkness and could not get out. My heartbeat slowed by pulses of heat and  flashes of pain. I was so lonely and surrounded by loners like me. I thought it was me against the world, and it was. Me against the world and me against myself. You cannot live long that way, and you cannot live that stance forever. Some die young. I had to make a full turn. I was wounded needing love. I was hateful needing peace. Fire needing water. Impulsive needing patience. Selfish needing out. Needing meaning, needing work. Needing a meaningful relationship to myself and others. A devotion to a spiritually seeded cause. All life is like mine. I had to humble myself and see the universe in me. Cool my jets and stop taking off, running away. Stay. I had to stay and breathe into it. All life can be renewed. All life is like that, yours and mine, all life is valuable. We need you.

fields. thursday

you brought me a fortune from a cookie. it was dawn and I scratched your back. you stood on my chest where I could admire you. you swished your tail. the sky outside began with orange. a hot summer day ahead. we live in the valley by the air field. i can hear the engines fire and props slice up the sky. we are living, we are loved. magnetic fields cannot resist us. 

÷÷ blue lady ÷÷

she may have been depressed but she was not sad she hid in the mountainside when the rains came hard like tropical noon. she once was tranquil now a monsoon. the blue lady was downcast from time to time and only we were lucky to catch her swollen tears in our banks. we  irrigate our lands and feed our children for to carry on and on and on and on...

÷÷this post was inspired by the painting  the blue lady by Tameeka Knox, an artist from Sacramento.÷÷

rebel ina safe

i keep my rebellion
under lock and key

i sign it out
on tuesdays
by photo id

twice as nice

once upon a cloud
feeling rather proud
all accounts break even
children awful loud

you cracked the piggy open
eyes as wide as coins
the exclamation spoken
iowa! des moines

a hundred silver dollars
in bed with porcelain
you lifted up your collar
to hide the widest grin

each child given two
and told not what to do
one was twice as nice
another not a clue

what remained then was invested
in reclamation of
the sky

to turn her
back from black
to blue

descent

descend from your high flying escalade. descend from your earned letters and titles and surname. acknowledge you have never gone a week without food. a month without shelter. 60 days without love or care of some kind. acknowledge your privilege.

descend and be
decent.