Sunday, June 1, 2008

but the strawberries - they confound me.

I could lash out at any minute - I think - but then i think - not -
there is, however, and gladly, a violence - repressed

To be loved...
to be connected...
among eternity.

I am exactly the man I want to be.

I have let it go,
meaning ... repressed...
for a long time
and again and again

that's why i build so much...
and destroy
to build.


there is no denying what was once ...
-gone, put off - known - justified -

I think of the words I speak
and how they must instantly affect - effect

"You "folks" are lucky to have kids this talented"

What I meant was...

"It's cool you have kids that seek that self expression"? - or something -

what piece of a sliver of thought
would those words have influence over -
words as if living, breathing beings
doing their reflecting
everything is reflecting
everything is a reflection -
Smash the mirrors...

...but the connection...
I burst -
slowly -

the understanding leads to...what...?

we make the smells...
we name...


more likely - The breathe of the earth -

what happens when a mind begins to clear...

are you losing your attachment to connections
when a mind goes clear

she is like me...
"I love me" .... comes first
"I hate me" ....then arrives -

surprisingly - as i write from direct consciousness...and weave forward and back

(I have always been impervious to some extent- with strange exception to strong emotions of violence and love - and i think I have maintained some consistencies. - As a fire bursts forth after all day smoldering -

so what is this writing for?

i don't cut the lawn because i don't understand it anymore...or more accurately...I understand it better than i used to...

what I used to think I understood - is my wisdom -
whether i take it or not
is my courage...

I know i do not deserve you -
but how can I not?

- in you pull - little silver jeep...with cute girl, blonde - inside...smiling... -

you haven't come in yet - I am sitting here at the laptop -
hearing you at the door...

open -

scrape across the floor -

wrinkling of bags

low - hi...

hi baby

and a kiss

and i calm...

but the strawberries - they confound me)

she is like me.
except different.

we share fear and terror and rage and hatred and confusion and sadness and softness and betrayal and admiration and recognition of strength in this world of men.

I feel you are my mother and I hate you for it
because I hate my mother
and I am taking it out on you...

...and I think of you reading the Sally . and I ... I pause ... and I pause...
I am thinking of you in different ways -
and I openly hate myself.

there is much discovery going on now - discovery I haven't felt in a long time...

and it feels like feels like me...

and I have almost forgotten it...

like starbuck - almost forgetting...

and i wonder -
far away
lolling to the breeze of my thoughts...

who makes the rules!?

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