Burning

It burns here.
Under the
river.

That sand is
yellow and
red.

It's telling me
to be
silent.

Hold your breath
and listen.
______.

It's lost on me

Your demeanor does
not shine
through

the
clouds. No
calendar scene with

sun rays illuminating
treetop foliage.
Crooked

roots
filled with
mounded moss is

all I've to
examine. It's
dark

down
here- shadowed,
even at noon.

I won't assume.
This silent
open

wondering,
which lingers
on the edge

of the field,
I can
handle.

Tom

Interviewer:
what makes you so terrified of going home this evening?

Tom:
I don't have to do anything I don't want to do. They TOLD me that. She eats two cheeseburgers for breakfast. Every morning! She drinks coffee and never cleans the house. She's awful and I don't want to go home.

I: None of these things seem very frightening to me, can you maybe take a minute to think about why these are scaring you?

Tom: I guess

I; Great

T: There's food on the floor, not whole foods, but chunks of bagels and squiggles of cooked hamburger near the stove. I think we have mice and cockroaches. It's disgusting. And she's addicted to the coffee, addicted! Isn't that why I am here? The cheeseburgers are ok I guess, but it doesn't seem healthy. I mean, she wants me to be healthy and she's eating that shit in the morning.

I- I understand more now what is making you agitated. Let's just sit with these feelings for a moment. Really let yourself feel the hostility. It won't harm you, I'm right here. Let's give it a try.

T; Whatever [closes eyes, still squirming]

Oh, this is ridiculous. It never ends up how I imagine anyway. I'm making an appointment and writing this all down. I can NEVER get my words out, dammit! I fucking suck. Maybe they'll keep me. Don't make me go home. I don't want to go home.. They can't make me go home!

[dials 0 on the telephone]

nurse: Hello Tom, what can I do for you?

I need to see Dr. Nostrund.

Nurse: You can see him at your appointment in the morning, 9am, remember?

I have to see him now! Please!

Nurse: Tom, it's four o'clock in the morning. Please go to sleep.

Fucking Bitch. [slams the phone down]

one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen

Interviewer:
what makes you so terrified of going home this evening?

Through the windshield

I've seen some remarkable things this week on my way home from work. I'll start with Wednesday because today's story is way more fun.

I was traveling a different route so I could avoid the traffic on the highway. I took route 302 which goes through some more rural areas of CT. Passing by a corn field which looked a bit wilted due to the recent frosts, I noticed something up in the corner. There was a scarecrow there, but about 30 feet from that was an american flag on a pole only about 3 feet above the corn horizon. The flag and pole looked hunched over and wilted like the corn. I thought this was a great metaphor for the country. So much so that I wondered if the farmer had posted this as a sort of corn-art installation.

OK, today!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (wait for it.......wait for it!!!!!!!!!!!!)
I saw something I've NEVER seen before, ever!
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I saw a hot air balloon flying over the highway!!!!! It was red, burgundy and blue! It was so close I could even make out the shape of the basket. It made me very aware of the other cars surrounding mine because with something SO cool over the road, I figured at least someone would rear-end another. But nope, we all made it home safe! Sorry for all the drama, but this was really great. What a bright spot to a cold week. hooowaaaaaaaaah and whoop whoop. :)

Alla y'alls holla ja

You are a god.
THEEE god. With a
Lowercase G.
By far, the shining
Example of g.
Emanations of pure
Bliss commin' outa ya.

Landed

Armor off. Retired.
Slink out of body,
Bodyless enjoyment.
Landed. Structure.
Overwhelmed.

And

Happy man or
old dying
man

Driving around

Skeletons dance with
hands of
branch



Covered that base
in minimal
space

oh, Love

I know the word love has so many different
connotations, that to use it means pretty
much nothing. And from what I hear,
this new world we are about to be living
in- a new word will emerge. Although
a new word may not be necessary. I am
not talking about us all dying off and being
transported to another dimension, that is
probably for a much later date, although I
really know nothing at all of what is
going to happen. Just feelings that I
get. Love will be a constant in most
people's lives. Love will be for everyone
not just for those to whom we profess
it in a ceremony used to mark tax status
and to show off or show under our wealth.
Love is undeniable, it's what makes us live.
Our bodies are seriously running on it.
Our 'heart' cannot live with out it. And who
would want to? We'll share ourselves so
much more. It's already started. I read about
confessional poetry today, and from what I
understand, those guys and gals really
understood. Get it all out, baby. Lay it on me.
Truth and love are the same. It's really the only
truth we can feel. That's it, just love.

Rachel Lyn Andrews - (which makes me a human being, writing my name makes me feel vulnerable.) This post could be so much better, but I am really late on getting a drawing made for someone and I watched gossip girl tonight which killed a whole lotta time.

blue scribbles

I close my eyes and
see blue scribbled shoulder
falsley drawn eyes.
If this is the end-
What am I saying?
textured duvet, shower
washing femininity.
I am a woman
I need this silky hair.
light reflecting, dyed ends.
Golden hues of plenty
of sun rays. Bright green
eyes. So how's it that
I got so caught up? So
obvious and not ended
this sooner.
I am that little girl
standing in the parking
lot
forgotten about with missed
guitar lessons.
Learn that song.
Underlined, italicized and red.
Grossly in the head.
Heart flannel pyjamas
with sky blue slippers.

to myself

i don't have all that much time left
exhale slowly, that candle smells just good enough
and these drawings suck
if i can capture your essence why not
this one, but fiona apple sings
she can't be denied her ocean

Response to 'About the Dildos'

The dildos are smart to say that angels are thread fuckers and human beings are thread parasites. When the two are combined it gets even messier. The angel in the human wants to continue meddling with other humans and bring about personal thread perfection and alignment but the human part always messes things up. The angel part has all access rights to the akashic records which is a terrible idea for a partly human animal. The two halves fight over this information. They get confused and assume too much about the other humans. The worst part actually, is when the angel part goes unacknowleged by the human part. That's where the biggest thread fucking happens and leaves the door wide open for the thread parasite to take over. God Bless the dildos and their wholesome, patriotic work.

BTW- The angels sharing space with humans do apologize for all the thread fucking going on. It's hard to stop being an angel when there is so much work to be done.

http://joebrainardspyjamas.blogspot.com/2007/08/about-dildos.html

Lower

missing lives
why do you come back?
intruders

woke up

flat
faced, armpit
sore, ankle chilled

and
tired. Art
show dreading day.

funksucksink

In bed under rainbow
afghan
autumn leaves wind
don't throw
your dead at me.
turn around

go

What kind of food does it take to make this go away...throw a stick at it or something.

This day

The light reflections
make it better.


So young.
So China Doll.

Today's Drawing

Daydream

What are the wonders of colliding with your protrusion?
I'll never know.

At Work

The drawings were made on post-it notes. I kept having to hide them when I heard someone walk over to my desk :)

1.

They're just trees, evergreen trees. They make a funny picture when you
look through the needles to the other side. I got stuck in one at my
grandma's house. I could climb high, but never get down.

2.

We made love in a shallow stream. The current submitted to our
disruption. Laughing, it said, "why not view the fish from above?"

3.

Stuck Shoe
The siren snarled it's way to my mother. Kate's bike flashed sun rays
in children's eyes. We didn't have cell phones in those days.

4.

I'm not a poet or a painter, just a simple glow, a flash. You'll
remember me as being temporary. I smile, turn my head away from you and
I'm gone.

5.

The copier sounds like a Gerbil today.

6.

Distaste for,
"what now?"
Distaste for that bit underneath which sticks. To the ribs. Scraping,
even with a chisel, it won't be unstuck.

7.

Where am I?
Right here.
Typing at my keyboard.

I'm Serving You

You Got Served is on BET right now. It's a movie about street dance crews & the daily life in the 'hood. Someone gets shot, there is romance drama and of course...lots of dancing! It's not the best dance movie by any means, but it does offer great shots of rehearsals and competitions of dance crews. I love all dance movies and performances. But I guess street dancing particularly intrigues me because I can relate to their art. I'm kind of a street artist. Y'all can be in my crew. We'll do flips off each other's backs and do head spins on cardboard squares. We'll shout out improv poetry and squirt paint onto walls from mustard bottles. It'll be off the chain, holla! Woohoo for bad dance movies!

BTW - A GREAT dance movie is The Red Shoes.

desireful day

what is up with today?
A few months ago I started writing a poem, a sexy little poem...that went terribly wrong. I don't think it is in my capacity to write that sort of thing while actually using descriptive language to let you know what it's about. Maybe so, maybe not. But it didn't go well. Anyway, I did have a cool line. I want to share it so if any of you awesome poets want to use it you can...
unkempt seated jeans
there it is. It might be cool to see what you can do with it. Post a poem in the comments if you feel up to it :)

I am listening to C & C music factory right now, and it is not helping to wane this sexed up, sexless day. They are moaning as I type...Goodness! Somebody throw me a bone. (oh, no she dit'nt)

Goddammitgirl- Check yo'self (hiding)

Who are these people?

More oil paintings tonight. Flash photography, I'm afraid. 1st one on canvas 24x24 inches. 2nd one on glass (the white is paper behind the glass in the frame)

He, He, Hello-o

What's up buttercup?
All those hags...
Imitate a cat puking.
.......bleh, bluh
Na-ta-sha!

My second favorite movie of all time, Party Girl. I dressed up as Parker Posey's character in this movie, the party scene where she's dressed in the blue silk top, for Halloween a few years ago. It was great. So much fun is depicted in this movie - the 90's fashion of neon layering and chunky platform shoes. Green haired club kids and even leather sweatheart-neckline dresses. I love it all! You don't see much of that around here anymore. I went to a club in New York City last year and I was in heaven. I thought I went back in time... Oh me, oh my just give me the freaks.

7 Letters

http://jacketmagazine.com/31/rc-rodsmith.html

In keeping with the WCW theme of the day, enjoy some correspondence between Creeley, Williams, Robert Duncan, Denise Levertov, and Tom Raworth.

Trecero

where does my smoke go when I exhale
and why do you always know what will
make me smile? The grievance I have
with my Grandfather is inside of me.
Unreality then harshness. Brutal.
My honesty cuts through. Abstract.
Relief of senses and intimacy.
We have an immature relationship.
Just telling you about me,
I am tearing myself apart. You
should be asking me. It's all
in my mind. I am mad. What is
your real name and why do I know
you so well? Don't you want to
know? Why won't you let me tell
you? Just look at me and ask.
Always caught between myself.
Which should I be right now?
Eyes change dark to flourescent
every day. Every day, Every day.
Singularity, clarity, few.
You know there is no influencer
now? I threw it in the trash.
Folded in two. Like midnight
they came and went. Illuminated
and space. Onto your ciggarrettes.
Lost at darkness, not. Better
able to see with the eyes open.
Your floating, peeping in, I like.
Would love to see you more. You
looked small today, shocked. I
could kiss you. Would kiss you.
Want to. None better time than
in spirit. But not again, this
mix of real. Which one is it?
Romanced by something I can't
understand. Now that interference
is immaterial. Shouting, louder.
Me, on me, myself, who now?
Getting there. Paint a picture.

Minimal Overlap

-GO
HOME
IN
-E

Built by Wendy

Arghhh

What is the point where you stop everything and do what you want to do. Why do we always have to wait? There have been several times in my life when I have given it all up to start fresh. So many times, in fact, that I figured I was addicted to 'starting over' rather than simply beginning again on the correct path. But setting compulsive corrective steering aside, what are we waiting for? Are there SO many life lessons to learn before we get to that 'happy place?' Are there energy blocks and karmic matters and fate to deal with first? Or is that a bunch of hooey designed to appease our humanistic, pessimistic, egoic conditioning? I could always be 'more me.' I could always be better at what I do... I don't think that I have to achieve anything to fulfill my desired life. And I know that the real key to success is being it, having it now, etc. So if that is so, why can't I wake up tomorrow, have a cup of tea, check my email and paint?

I know I'm just being stubborn- I know the answer. I have to stop the wanting. But I do get frustrated from time to time...
Good night!

A little ditty:

Oohh lala! I enjoyed making this so much! So I put it on etsy. (it's a little book/zine)

Malachite, Citrine & Apotholite

My little friends that treat me to wonderful dreams, extra info and beautiful looking.

Maybe I can only write when you're around...

My new wool sweater is chafing my neck right now. I'm creating a barrier with my hand. Holding my shoulder and examining my pointy bones with my pinky. We're not made of much- mostly air and water. What's that flow I feel blocked? You're not around. I'm empty.

Wow, pop! Art.

I've been trolling Etsy for abstract art and found Michelle's shop MDaisleyMoffitt. She works with a soothing, yet spirited color pallette and I get the sense that her images are a secret code. Even through the layers of shapes and colors there is a clarity. I could stare at her paintings for hours!

One of my favorites is 'Between Earth and Sky' :


Here's another favorite, 'Sound and Silence':


She works with a variety of media including (but not limited to) charcoal, watercolors, acrylics and graphite. Here's a bit from her Artist Statement:

"I feel my work speaks visually of my personality in ways that I choose not to speak verbally. It explores the depth of my soul and mind. When I work on these images, the universality of the range of primal emotions alive in every individual is explored on a grand scale and for this reason I feel they are objects to which every person can relate in one way or another. My intention is to translate the beauty of the human experience through the images I produce, not by simply explaining but by evoking."

I can't speak enough of how much I love her work... So go on now, check it out! (she's even having a sale!)

Thanks Michelle for doing what you do!

Dear Sunday,

give me more time. digest my meal.
improper food combining leads to gas.

i may have grown up today. my day
started out tall, but now i feel
just right.

wooden chair, keypad, paper.

Love,
Rachel

Seven Bad Dreams

Restraint

a one line
receipt from
Koenig.