http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Oh30JhRIeI&feature=related
I have to preface this by saying I am NOT advocating anyone use drugs of any kind. Sadly use becomes abuse too fast. I won't deny I was addicted to cocaine but I found antidepressants and adderall and yes tina I won't deny it and I'm not on coke. I have ADD for real (I know people allegedly lie about it but I"m not lying; I really have it) and I suffer depression and medicine has helped me. Meth at times has helped me focus. I know there are those of you who will be horrified but that's the reality: uppers have helped me. ADD, bipolar, depression are real medical diseases as is borderline disorder and people suffering from it do need medicine. But yes it's dangerous, and because honestly of irresponsible behavior of some we all suffer, myself included, in not being able to get prescription medication I need. Because I get grilled and tested and told to come back for more testing and if you've ever done coke in your life they won't give you antidepressants or adderall and won't prescribe the latter at all because it's like cocaine...and some people abuse the shit out of it......and so we all suffer. But we NEED it, some of us. I have had days where I was ready to faint, couldn't get out of bed, couldn't finish anything, couldn't focus, or study, where I would stand up and see black and practically faint. I couldn't talk to anyone or think clearly. I couldn't pay attention. I would just feel like falling asleep, for days. Walking and running were excruciating. Stimulants were prescribed by a psychiatrist, and I was able to finish work and think right and get things done that I couldn't before. I would fall asleep in the middle of studying, or get irritable, spacy, depressed.....and suffer over and over again. I was depressed and it is a biological condition. Medication got rid of the problem. BUT if you're already manic obviously anything to make you more manic will make your brain explode. Everyone's chemistry is different. THere's a reason dancers use uppers. All my life I've suffered a slow metabolism as well.
THat said:
honestly; I have to say I believe these trips are more in their heads than a result of drugs. Everyone's brain chemistry is different. If you're not mentally sound you should AVOID drugs....if you're already manic you shouldn't take any amphetemine. or uppers....I have ADD so stuff like this doesn't phase me I dare say it almost makes me normal.....I still fall asleep. psychiatrists grill people with questions because of this problem. OBVIOUSLY if you're pregnant you should never do drugs or alcohol or cigarettes. And there are people who want abortion to be illegal! Which is worse?
Saturday, August 28, 2010
some highlights I remember....this one cracked me up. An article written by a woman lawyer, hm....women keeping women down, deja vu anyone? Anyhow, this lawyer wrote "In Defense of Chastity" saying girls should not give into men's advances because men will think they're sluts and not want to marry them then if they get pregnant they'd "really be in a pickle." Crazy huh? This is how people lived. In Feminine Mystique, Friedan quoted this male professor saying something like, girls need to ask themselves, "Should I willingly prepare myself for a lifelong celibate career?" And this was in college, including the prestigious seven sisters like Smith where both Plath and Friedan went. My mother tells me back then....something like you'd have to worry about preganancy like you do, say, HIV now, and that "everyone would think you were a slut" and you would be sent away. Your classmates would be told a lie like that you are visiting your sick aunt. Abortions were of course illegal and clandestine. The pro-choice movement was originally a radical one. It was certainly beyond shocking for a woman to get up in public and speak about it; much like Margaret Sanger and birth control at the turn of the century. I read in Margaret Atwood something like, it took three phone calls back in the day. I read a quote somewhere where a woman said something like, "All this talk about AIDS now, but back in the fifties pregnancy was the kiss of death." And went on to say what my mother told me. Truthfully, it was common for women to "have" to marry then. Simple, and not. Now our problems are different but extremely complicated....we're supposed to live up to these impossible standards of the Superwoman. Really, a child takes everything out of you. Pushing a bowling ball out of yourself; it's not hard to imagine why women suffer PTSD, or post partum depression. Of course.....my mother said the screams in a ward are horrible and so is the pain; she said it sounds like a torture chamber. My mother was tied to the bed: going to the doctor was a way of going to be tortured. My mother tells gruesome stories of what she and her brothers went to going to the dentist. Plus the didn't have the same health standards so people had worse dental problems. Shock therapy is horrible and it's now known totally unnecessary, as is vivisection. ADD was not understood; kids were punished for that, or schizophrenia. THose suffering these illnesses are among the brightest to, according to....Kay something, author of a book on bipolar, have to look that up. Oh, An Unquiet Mind. THe deaths are unnecessary as well. What happened to Plath naturally could have been avoided. I suppose she was bipolar or suffered ADD which are treatable now. I know many people who have it. More later on this....Oh a bell jar is a vaccuum? like a tube, used in TV and film? ?????
Oh yes, another highlight of the book is where she describes this African American waiter serving string beans and baked beans together, and has him saying "Mah! Mah!" I think she or one of the others kicks the plate because two beans are not supposed to be served together. That stands out as well, having been served hospital food myself. That part has been running through my mind.
My next book is In Cold Blood. Another fifties book. That era did produce some great work and interesting people, I'll say, for all the repression. The film Capote, which I saw with my mother, sister and SOnny, is one of the best I've seen. I'd say if you were living back then and NOT having a nervous breakdown, especially after being served articles like "In Defense of Chastity" that's when you know you're REALLY screwed up! I mean, did anyone really take that seriously?
Oh yes, another highlight of the book is where she describes this African American waiter serving string beans and baked beans together, and has him saying "Mah! Mah!" I think she or one of the others kicks the plate because two beans are not supposed to be served together. That stands out as well, having been served hospital food myself. That part has been running through my mind.
My next book is In Cold Blood. Another fifties book. That era did produce some great work and interesting people, I'll say, for all the repression. The film Capote, which I saw with my mother, sister and SOnny, is one of the best I've seen. I'd say if you were living back then and NOT having a nervous breakdown, especially after being served articles like "In Defense of Chastity" that's when you know you're REALLY screwed up! I mean, did anyone really take that seriously?
I wrote this as a response to another video...but it wouldn't upload for some reason. here's the link
Bell Jar Youtube Review
Actually Plath's era was Pre Feminist. Or rather Pre Second Wave Feminism. It was the time that....set the precedent, I believe that's how they say it. Women were then told they had to choose between marriage and motherhood and a career.....they couldn't have both. Read The Feminine Mystique--which grew out of her era. Betty Friedan was one of these typical suburban housewives....and wrote from her own experience. You think it's hard to balance all these things now just imagine what it was like then....there was little or no support for a woman trying to "have it all." They were told they couldn't. Much has drastically improved even if it's far from perfect. Very very long topic for discussion but we don't have ten years to go into it all....but I recommend reading Friedan. Good review, though!
Bell Jar Youtube Review
Actually Plath's era was Pre Feminist. Or rather Pre Second Wave Feminism. It was the time that....set the precedent, I believe that's how they say it. Women were then told they had to choose between marriage and motherhood and a career.....they couldn't have both. Read The Feminine Mystique--which grew out of her era. Betty Friedan was one of these typical suburban housewives....and wrote from her own experience. You think it's hard to balance all these things now just imagine what it was like then....there was little or no support for a woman trying to "have it all." They were told they couldn't. Much has drastically improved even if it's far from perfect. Very very long topic for discussion but we don't have ten years to go into it all....but I recommend reading Friedan. Good review, though!
reading the bell jar
sometimes I think I was born into the wrong era. Or wish I could go back in a time machine. WOuld it ever be possible to invent one? Science fiction always bored me.....but who knows. Stanley Kubrick and Sylvia Plath were contemporaries and I am someone who tends to mull over photos....as I have his and hers. I have her picture on the back of the novel, and his.....when he was young; and he was really a hottie then...they are but two years apart in age. My grandmother was born in 1926....same year as Monroe. Another one I find fascinating. MOst Hollywood stars don't interest me....maybe Grace Kelly. Vivien Leigh but she was British....she was someone who thought the stage was superior but she ....she was born for the camera. She had that something--you couldn't take your eyes off her. Blah.....rambling.....but to think both of the people I just mentioned may have been in NYC at the same time and never knew eachother.....Mother says I'm obsessed but if I am it's your fault Mom.....You dragged me to these films as a kid. But I don't blame you...think what I would have missed!
This picture of Plath is disturbing to me. To think she was only around 19 or 20 then....both of them were. I guess.....they were kids like us...well like I was at one time, like I see everywhere.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
fairies
they took her earrings maybe
they are here maybe
they took my rings maybe
what did I feed them small price to pay?
thought they landed on me but it was an ugly black fly
my polish is chipped and my hands naked
my feet are dirty I might as well have not showered
she asked what Irish Moss is for
her earrings were
a hundred tiny emeralds gold and green
her eyes are gold and green
There are clouds of green outside my window
so many could there be so many
cheesy poem maybe inspired by a woman at flower power where I went to get rose oil. They were out. Later I talked to her again...she said she was in a bad mood because maybe the fairies took her earrings. I guess I'm not the weirdest person out there....hm.....and I can't find my rings now either
they are here maybe
they took my rings maybe
what did I feed them small price to pay?
thought they landed on me but it was an ugly black fly
my polish is chipped and my hands naked
my feet are dirty I might as well have not showered
she asked what Irish Moss is for
her earrings were
a hundred tiny emeralds gold and green
her eyes are gold and green
There are clouds of green outside my window
so many could there be so many
cheesy poem maybe inspired by a woman at flower power where I went to get rose oil. They were out. Later I talked to her again...she said she was in a bad mood because maybe the fairies took her earrings. I guess I'm not the weirdest person out there....hm.....and I can't find my rings now either
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Spring St
all because of him all
you know it was
it was because of him
you know it was
their faces are blue
their hair is straw their
their faces are blue
help will it help
they say don't be afraid
you won't know until you do
won't know then
won't know then didn't know then
you won't know until then
didn't know until then
and they are staring they
are glaring
they are staring at you
all of them
you ran from him
you ran from them
the street is brick
the light is blue and
they were waiting waiting for you
don't let them tell you they're not still
not still you saw him there
there was him you saw him
there there was him
there was them because of them
the streets are brick
the light is blue
there is a ton of water
springing up there for you
a face in the dirt
a roll of tape
a face, a doll's face
doll's face waiting for you
and they were there and there was you
he was wearing that hat
wearing that hat
wearing that hat
waiting for you he was wearing that hat
and waiting for you
waiting for you
their faces are blue
you should come see this
it's really bad
come see this
he's waiting waiting
is he alive? not really dead
the hair is straw
straw is yellow
yellow is their hair
he's waiting there
you know it was
it was because of him
you know it was
their faces are blue
their hair is straw their
their faces are blue
help will it help
they say don't be afraid
you won't know until you do
won't know then
won't know then didn't know then
you won't know until then
didn't know until then
and they are staring they
are glaring
they are staring at you
all of them
you ran from him
you ran from them
the street is brick
the light is blue and
they were waiting waiting for you
don't let them tell you they're not still
not still you saw him there
there was him you saw him
there there was him
there was them because of them
the streets are brick
the light is blue
there is a ton of water
springing up there for you
a face in the dirt
a roll of tape
a face, a doll's face
doll's face waiting for you
and they were there and there was you
he was wearing that hat
wearing that hat
wearing that hat
waiting for you he was wearing that hat
and waiting for you
waiting for you
their faces are blue
you should come see this
it's really bad
come see this
he's waiting waiting
is he alive? not really dead
the hair is straw
straw is yellow
yellow is their hair
he's waiting there
sometimes
YOU ARE A DUNCE!!!!!!!!!!
just after that day
the faces are purple
their hair is straw
move your arms more
move your arms more
shake your ass
move your arms
shake your ass
after that day after that day
it was after that day
so many of them
after that day
so many of them
rooms and hallways
the light is bright
the light is bright
the moon is white
her name is white
her name is play
name is play
won't go away
her name is play won't go away
her dress is green
really is green
so light, lifted up with no weight
it was you all along
just after that day
the faces are purple
their hair is straw
move your arms more
move your arms more
shake your ass
move your arms
shake your ass
after that day after that day
it was after that day
so many of them
after that day
so many of them
rooms and hallways
the light is bright
the light is bright
the moon is white
her name is white
her name is play
name is play
won't go away
her name is play won't go away
her dress is green
really is green
so light, lifted up with no weight
it was you all along
come back
after a night of partying. THAT part went well. My friend Lydia put on a gorgeous green gown tied the ends, some lipstick and did a Spanish like dance. THis other woman an African Brazilian was there and showed us her African Congo dance videos. Jeannette is the woman whose house we were at. It is a gorgeous loft apartment actually she had all these amazing candle holders bedspreads and six cats three dogs a back yard really lucky. Dog one of them kept pissing. But it was lovely regardless. I performed my Irish folk gothic dance. The African girl Funmi I think was her name made these Acai and vodka drinks. Earlier Lydia and I had a nice time at Tillies talking about various things.....
THen I come back to G's and.......he had gotten mad at me for washing the floors as soap was slippery. But there is no way I could NOT wash them. Impossible. THey are and were horribly filthy. There was an extra layer of dirt. The dog shit on the bed.....I won't get into that. So after being very VERY tired I had all this wine and proceeded to wash the bedspread and I HAD to wash the floor.....only ONE day after having SLAVED to scrub that goddamned floor there was yet another film of disgusting dirt and horrible .......I cannot stand to have a messy floor. WHen I first got here I spent days cleaning it. WHich is worse, peeling paint or dead bugs and filth grime bacteria I won't get into what else. Rusty nails. All kinds of terrible stuff. Sharp edged plants. I mean I'm only trying to help but also I cannot stand to live this way. I hate cleaning but I can rest easier now. It used to be I would come home and spend an hour cleaning after the cats. I'm drunk and need to get drunker. Even though I had a good night. Well....I had been hysterical before thinking I had worked my fingers to the bone for nothing blah blah but I'm better now. Help. HELP. Turns out I had used castille soap which made the floor slippery....he said something like I almost killed myself slipping on my own floor.......trying to wash out the bad stuff and I am fearful but hey it is what it is.
Still.....I'm thinking so much of that night and it was really incredibly moving. Lydia is a gorgeous dancer when put together. Her dress was designed by Jeanette a sherbert green I don't think I could wear that color but she wore it very well. She managed to move well as a dancer and kick ass......
Looking forward to moving ON moving ON moving ON what will it take?
THen I come back to G's and.......he had gotten mad at me for washing the floors as soap was slippery. But there is no way I could NOT wash them. Impossible. THey are and were horribly filthy. There was an extra layer of dirt. The dog shit on the bed.....I won't get into that. So after being very VERY tired I had all this wine and proceeded to wash the bedspread and I HAD to wash the floor.....only ONE day after having SLAVED to scrub that goddamned floor there was yet another film of disgusting dirt and horrible .......I cannot stand to have a messy floor. WHen I first got here I spent days cleaning it. WHich is worse, peeling paint or dead bugs and filth grime bacteria I won't get into what else. Rusty nails. All kinds of terrible stuff. Sharp edged plants. I mean I'm only trying to help but also I cannot stand to live this way. I hate cleaning but I can rest easier now. It used to be I would come home and spend an hour cleaning after the cats. I'm drunk and need to get drunker. Even though I had a good night. Well....I had been hysterical before thinking I had worked my fingers to the bone for nothing blah blah but I'm better now. Help. HELP. Turns out I had used castille soap which made the floor slippery....he said something like I almost killed myself slipping on my own floor.......trying to wash out the bad stuff and I am fearful but hey it is what it is.
Still.....I'm thinking so much of that night and it was really incredibly moving. Lydia is a gorgeous dancer when put together. Her dress was designed by Jeanette a sherbert green I don't think I could wear that color but she wore it very well. She managed to move well as a dancer and kick ass......
Looking forward to moving ON moving ON moving ON what will it take?
Monday, August 23, 2010
Amazing
how some people seem to have no problems. But of course I don't know for certain. But it seems like some people's lives are one long bubble. Well, I guess I can do the same.
I had this dream that I was in a deli.....or hotel....storage space? Kept finding $20 bills I'd lost and forgotten about. White floors. Not completely clean.
The mist and rain and cool breezes are so nice. I have lemons and other doodads......clay figures on my windowsill.
I had this dream that I was in a deli.....or hotel....storage space? Kept finding $20 bills I'd lost and forgotten about. White floors. Not completely clean.
The mist and rain and cool breezes are so nice. I have lemons and other doodads......clay figures on my windowsill.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
the fifties
were in some ways horrific and great and many things. but they produced some interesting people. you know the saying, if it were another time and place.....well, yes. But it's not; it's now; things are what they are. I try not to think what if or if only cause it's futile. But I still think that.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
some writings over the past few months
stuff I jotted down; now I'll put them here since I want to recycle some paper.
glad I stayed with you
great idea don't you agree?
did you beg me not to leave
and beg and beg and beg
love or control? which is it?
what good news must wait til Thursday?
if we need love, stability
organization? travel? want to go here?
fly? fly?
Air? sword? fight? stab with words?
Once we were in love
it's so hard to remember
eyes brown like sand sand
falling in the hour glass
it wasn't to last
we knew it wouldn't
a tender box
a birthday present
blew out the candles
make a wish
hate me hurt me
blow blow on my candles
oh the stab
it hurts the stab it hurts
but you (can't read my own writing)
I turn again
I turn against myself
oh they can never never take
oh but it could
burn death large but it could
burned away
once we had everything
once you put me at the top of the list
at the top of the list
at the top of the list
and we were at the top I was drunk but we didn't get hit
where was I?
oh but it was pink
pink and so bright but it could be
once he fell all over me
on top of me
two three one how we bled
til we both were dead
oh how we bled
oh how we were red
and you know he did
and you know how he did
and the mirror is merciless
jealousy how it pricks
how it burns relentless a slow dull blad
ever so slowly turning
show all of you
a demon flew over my head
once how we bled
one we were red
two how we bled
fearful need
written 4/16/10
afternote: some of my poetry is a little maudlin.....rather the gory stuff, personal stuff
4/16/10
I'm a thief
a crook
sorceress
demon sigil
horns on my head
a perfect fit
I'm a killer baby
that can be read two ways
I'm a killer, baby
and I'm a killer baby
hm kind of like the second
fill me up
I'm evil
I'll never be anything but evil
I'm not blonde
believing in God
believing in Santa
believing in Adam and Eve
one day
I'll end up in a trash can in the woods
that'll be the end
I won't be the first
oh but you're still dreaming
if only you knew
how I bled purple and red for you
how I bleed
my heart is full of black soot
and I insist insist insist it melt away (these two lines I just added)
oh but you're still dreaming
if only you knew me
how I bled purple and red for you
how I bleed
you I still need
come to me
me me only
all that's so ugly
so ghastly godawful
in Bushwick a hideous place
you don't know what you're missing
you're not missing anything
a mattress on the floor
a memory of him
what life there is here, and there's very little
a back yard full of weeds
dark hideously ugly cellar of a hideously ugly building
in a neighborhood of shacks, train tracks, everything grey
and a mess
but the library coffee shop is here
one pretty red ribbon
full of pretty people
and a happy blue dolphin swam toward me here
one thing I knew I'd end up here
but not this place, I bought purple and black candles
that and my art the only attractive thing
this basement like a tomb, a dirty one
a cellar of cold, damp, grey and sooty hell
a soulless place
quiet and piss yellow ugly
(I added these couple stanzas now)
(original)
words--so few--so beautiful
from your schizophronic brain juices
I got naked
I'm a wreck
I looked at the leaves
imagined the sun
filled myself with 30,000 roses
and screamed for over an hour
(recently written)
they he lit me on fire
all my pain turned into cheap vaudeville
christmas tree lit up
you abused me
how did I life through this?
my panties are red
purple and bled
oh how I slip
oh how you flip
me ????
cookies are green
sparkles are bright
sleep through the day
live through the night
tortured, raped, beaten
the choir sings faces tilted
she stabbed you a million times
she purposely degraded you
the dirty river behind both of us
from hell you're from hell you're going to hell
love kills it's all I know
it's what I'm used to
a family of schizophrenics
he said that's made up bullshit
schizophrenia: could be a character in a play
talk to me please
he will die, I will die
on a cross in a street, bloodied
his brains a mish mesh of wire
he won't live
I thought love I slept on a floor
a beer, a symbol, something I drew
purple bled it could be worse
the salt stings my mouth my bones I feel it shake me every molecule
you who are sugar
bless through the computer
oh the love a stuffing for a toy frog
belong where you belong
(next page)
it's five oclock in the morning
I'm hurting, hurting bad
your tire went flat
I almost killed myself on that bridge
the bus headed for Mass
just before it crashed
the fires, letters lit up like eyes of a jack o lantern
I only got burned the farmer in me has thick bones
from Illinois from peasants
no I"m not dreaming this
watch something burn
dolls are turning toward you
they're really staring at you
the faces are staring at you
they are in the wall
they are in the bricks
the skull is on the table
love love in a dingy room
one tree and foam
it's aphrodite in this bottle
everything was grey
except for that one light
and the book Wicked
everything dark
all of them and you you're just a satellite
really aren't you?
the book said, "Kill the wicked witch of the West"
oh the pink the pink you and me
we sleep
there's purple in this dark
is still love only love
one beer a burn
they some of them sleep in the street
steaming in glass I have been on the curb
and I've been in the Plaza
all the gold stairs are dull
empty if
and you thought it was a joke
thought it was an accident
that a skull candle
wouldn't do that wouldn't do that wouldn't do that
that's what you thought
you who were so smart
you were so goddamn smart
I'm shaken shaken twisted I'll never recover from this
you had such a brainy blonde head
it wasn't real it wasn't
really it was red
really it was red
the skull was real but it was too late before you knew it
the corpses were real coming out of the swimming pool
that person really was choking
her dress waved in the wind it was red too
they said it was a wig
bloodied and muddied
meant to be
face staring at me
crocodile? he appears......he's always there is he?
this is no dream
we were shot at
bleeding and life some coffee
sugar, eggs, a rag between my legs
they'd get what they want?
wouldn't be me
I was a fool and learned the hard way
I've severed ties
no more staying up all night
blood on the mattress he has that too
he has my writings
he'll try to say they're his
bullshit they're not his
this is it
this is really it
I won't be that thing
I won't be thrown out
spells, summon, any kind of peace of mind
destroyed by him
she's hot totally hot
she was talking about poor
as if she knew what it meant
she was useless and stupid why mince words
skin white as snow lips red as blood hair black as the black keys on a piano
death and dying
the dead girl
lips red as blood
put the black oil on
well now I know
some of them had fangs so did she
the black cat
glad I stayed with you
great idea don't you agree?
did you beg me not to leave
and beg and beg and beg
love or control? which is it?
what good news must wait til Thursday?
if we need love, stability
organization? travel? want to go here?
fly? fly?
Air? sword? fight? stab with words?
Once we were in love
it's so hard to remember
eyes brown like sand sand
falling in the hour glass
it wasn't to last
we knew it wouldn't
a tender box
a birthday present
blew out the candles
make a wish
hate me hurt me
blow blow on my candles
oh the stab
it hurts the stab it hurts
but you (can't read my own writing)
I turn again
I turn against myself
oh they can never never take
oh but it could
burn death large but it could
burned away
once we had everything
once you put me at the top of the list
at the top of the list
at the top of the list
and we were at the top I was drunk but we didn't get hit
where was I?
oh but it was pink
pink and so bright but it could be
once he fell all over me
on top of me
two three one how we bled
til we both were dead
oh how we bled
oh how we were red
and you know he did
and you know how he did
and the mirror is merciless
jealousy how it pricks
how it burns relentless a slow dull blad
ever so slowly turning
show all of you
a demon flew over my head
once how we bled
one we were red
two how we bled
fearful need
written 4/16/10
afternote: some of my poetry is a little maudlin.....rather the gory stuff, personal stuff
4/16/10
I'm a thief
a crook
sorceress
demon sigil
horns on my head
a perfect fit
I'm a killer baby
that can be read two ways
I'm a killer, baby
and I'm a killer baby
hm kind of like the second
fill me up
I'm evil
I'll never be anything but evil
I'm not blonde
believing in God
believing in Santa
believing in Adam and Eve
one day
I'll end up in a trash can in the woods
that'll be the end
I won't be the first
oh but you're still dreaming
if only you knew
how I bled purple and red for you
how I bleed
my heart is full of black soot
and I insist insist insist it melt away (these two lines I just added)
oh but you're still dreaming
if only you knew me
how I bled purple and red for you
how I bleed
you I still need
come to me
me me only
all that's so ugly
so ghastly godawful
in Bushwick a hideous place
you don't know what you're missing
you're not missing anything
a mattress on the floor
a memory of him
what life there is here, and there's very little
a back yard full of weeds
dark hideously ugly cellar of a hideously ugly building
in a neighborhood of shacks, train tracks, everything grey
and a mess
but the library coffee shop is here
one pretty red ribbon
full of pretty people
and a happy blue dolphin swam toward me here
one thing I knew I'd end up here
but not this place, I bought purple and black candles
that and my art the only attractive thing
this basement like a tomb, a dirty one
a cellar of cold, damp, grey and sooty hell
a soulless place
quiet and piss yellow ugly
(I added these couple stanzas now)
(original)
words--so few--so beautiful
from your schizophronic brain juices
I got naked
I'm a wreck
I looked at the leaves
imagined the sun
filled myself with 30,000 roses
and screamed for over an hour
(recently written)
they he lit me on fire
all my pain turned into cheap vaudeville
christmas tree lit up
you abused me
how did I life through this?
my panties are red
purple and bled
oh how I slip
oh how you flip
me ????
cookies are green
sparkles are bright
sleep through the day
live through the night
tortured, raped, beaten
the choir sings faces tilted
she stabbed you a million times
she purposely degraded you
the dirty river behind both of us
from hell you're from hell you're going to hell
love kills it's all I know
it's what I'm used to
a family of schizophrenics
he said that's made up bullshit
schizophrenia: could be a character in a play
talk to me please
he will die, I will die
on a cross in a street, bloodied
his brains a mish mesh of wire
he won't live
I thought love I slept on a floor
a beer, a symbol, something I drew
purple bled it could be worse
the salt stings my mouth my bones I feel it shake me every molecule
you who are sugar
bless through the computer
oh the love a stuffing for a toy frog
belong where you belong
(next page)
it's five oclock in the morning
I'm hurting, hurting bad
your tire went flat
I almost killed myself on that bridge
the bus headed for Mass
just before it crashed
the fires, letters lit up like eyes of a jack o lantern
I only got burned the farmer in me has thick bones
from Illinois from peasants
no I"m not dreaming this
watch something burn
dolls are turning toward you
they're really staring at you
the faces are staring at you
they are in the wall
they are in the bricks
the skull is on the table
love love in a dingy room
one tree and foam
it's aphrodite in this bottle
everything was grey
except for that one light
and the book Wicked
everything dark
all of them and you you're just a satellite
really aren't you?
the book said, "Kill the wicked witch of the West"
oh the pink the pink you and me
we sleep
there's purple in this dark
is still love only love
one beer a burn
they some of them sleep in the street
steaming in glass I have been on the curb
and I've been in the Plaza
all the gold stairs are dull
empty if
and you thought it was a joke
thought it was an accident
that a skull candle
wouldn't do that wouldn't do that wouldn't do that
that's what you thought
you who were so smart
you were so goddamn smart
I'm shaken shaken twisted I'll never recover from this
you had such a brainy blonde head
it wasn't real it wasn't
really it was red
really it was red
the skull was real but it was too late before you knew it
the corpses were real coming out of the swimming pool
that person really was choking
her dress waved in the wind it was red too
they said it was a wig
bloodied and muddied
meant to be
face staring at me
crocodile? he appears......he's always there is he?
this is no dream
we were shot at
bleeding and life some coffee
sugar, eggs, a rag between my legs
they'd get what they want?
wouldn't be me
I was a fool and learned the hard way
I've severed ties
no more staying up all night
blood on the mattress he has that too
he has my writings
he'll try to say they're his
bullshit they're not his
this is it
this is really it
I won't be that thing
I won't be thrown out
spells, summon, any kind of peace of mind
destroyed by him
she's hot totally hot
she was talking about poor
as if she knew what it meant
she was useless and stupid why mince words
skin white as snow lips red as blood hair black as the black keys on a piano
death and dying
the dead girl
lips red as blood
put the black oil on
well now I know
some of them had fangs so did she
the black cat
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
last night
I was going to take a book to read....but left it home thinking it was too much to carry. But I ended up in a train station and it's always my habit to bring something to read.....I bought the Times and NY Post (I like to read the crime blotter). I read the book review.....words like "visceral" being used....thinking it's nice to read something really intelligent; really somewhat soulful.......even if those same words are in every such article, which they usually are. On the way back I was looking for something similar.....ultimately bought the Enquirer. This is fascinating stuff. Stuff you don't hear about elsewhere.
I went running and that's when I do a sort of morning meditation....like the morning pages....I wake up feeling horrible, with horrible thoughts in my head. Running and writing clear all that out....I was thinking about bad things that happened to me when I was a kid. THere was bad and good. My parents made mistakes I'm not excusing what they did: they hurt me at times. NO one beat or molested me or.....well so many things I hear about. I can I did forgive them. I had very good and very bad fortune. THe good can turn into bad because if you're blessed with good things people get jealous and vindictive. Probably Assia was jealous of Sylvia Plath maybe unconsciously she wanted to get her where it counted. Too many people suffered and died unnecessarily. On the up side, with modern medicine and psychiatry/psychology much of this can be prevented. There was so much creativity at one period....I would guess there is little in history that equaled it. It was really wet and springing with stuff......but sadly there was bad as well under the surface. We were in the center of both. It was great and it nearly killed me.
But looking through the Enquirer....I mean.....there's this ad: kids born with clefts; that I'm looking at. Now that's really really bad. I know I have it good compared to much of the world. So I will try to make the most of what I have going for me.......this is what I want to accomplish:
travel: South America, maybe back to Europe....Africa. Main places for now
learn shorthand
better relationship love love happy love if others can have it so can I goddamn it.
better living situation
more pets, cats kids
better job in film
writing finished
learn tarot
I went running and that's when I do a sort of morning meditation....like the morning pages....I wake up feeling horrible, with horrible thoughts in my head. Running and writing clear all that out....I was thinking about bad things that happened to me when I was a kid. THere was bad and good. My parents made mistakes I'm not excusing what they did: they hurt me at times. NO one beat or molested me or.....well so many things I hear about. I can I did forgive them. I had very good and very bad fortune. THe good can turn into bad because if you're blessed with good things people get jealous and vindictive. Probably Assia was jealous of Sylvia Plath maybe unconsciously she wanted to get her where it counted. Too many people suffered and died unnecessarily. On the up side, with modern medicine and psychiatry/psychology much of this can be prevented. There was so much creativity at one period....I would guess there is little in history that equaled it. It was really wet and springing with stuff......but sadly there was bad as well under the surface. We were in the center of both. It was great and it nearly killed me.
But looking through the Enquirer....I mean.....there's this ad: kids born with clefts; that I'm looking at. Now that's really really bad. I know I have it good compared to much of the world. So I will try to make the most of what I have going for me.......this is what I want to accomplish:
travel: South America, maybe back to Europe....Africa. Main places for now
learn shorthand
better relationship love love happy love if others can have it so can I goddamn it.
better living situation
more pets, cats kids
better job in film
writing finished
learn tarot
Sunday, August 15, 2010
oh la green
and it's on me
at me on me at me
green green fall down on me
the sun is yellow and
I am green
the sun is yellow and I am green
at me on me at me
green green fall down on me
the sun is yellow and
I am green
the sun is yellow and I am green
Saturday, August 14, 2010
as far
as "new age" goes....everything has good and bad in it. but...I worked in a health food store. Yes there were many good things they sold. But.....am I the only one here....I'm not....shooting water into your ass is not going to make someone spiritually enlightened or healthy. I mean, I don't do it and look at me I'm wonderful. .......more to come.......
Friday, August 13, 2010
coming to me that means beware of jealousy
this empty space in me
black sooty mess in my heart is disintegrating
because jealous bitches I mean men also are having their hell day
this terrible place and these terrible people
rage....shakes me up twists my heart
twists it mercilessly
pain dizziness white snotty stringy
insanity I am a 300 pound man
rage shoots at him like a bullet
he who deserves it, he knows who he is
I could move this whole train station
sooty yellow Dad's gun was gold
this person isn't worth it
one day, it'll happen one day
only for one day, that day, he's gonna get it
he's gonna get it good
this empty space in me
black sooty mess in my heart is disintegrating
because jealous bitches I mean men also are having their hell day
this terrible place and these terrible people
rage....shakes me up twists my heart
twists it mercilessly
pain dizziness white snotty stringy
insanity I am a 300 pound man
rage shoots at him like a bullet
he who deserves it, he knows who he is
I could move this whole train station
sooty yellow Dad's gun was gold
this person isn't worth it
one day, it'll happen one day
only for one day, that day, he's gonna get it
he's gonna get it good
summer song, that was her name?
my blood drips onto this rose
i was scraped by the thorn
it was a sweet pain
if I could feel it again with
the rain with the rain he's coming to me again
with the petals pink petals falling over me
soft and plush lighter than feathers
a man is returning
I'm here an apple a flower
a pink ribbon the rays are yellow
the petals are pink he's coming to me
Venus is green petals are pink
flowers, the real ones
I'll take love specks of lust
all the lust is red dust
raining down on us
my blood drips onto this rose
i was scraped by the thorn
it was a sweet pain
if I could feel it again with
the rain with the rain he's coming to me again
with the petals pink petals falling over me
soft and plush lighter than feathers
a man is returning
I'm here an apple a flower
a pink ribbon the rays are yellow
the petals are pink he's coming to me
Venus is green petals are pink
flowers, the real ones
I'll take love specks of lust
all the lust is red dust
raining down on us
New Poem
Feeling in kind of a funk. Come cheer me up. Maybe cause I've had to deal with some very bad people and I'm tired from dancing and walking my friend's dog and today this kid in the park fell and was screaming horribly......so loud the whole park shook. It's awful to be a witness to that kind of suffering.....I wanted to scream myself. Im feeling a little better. On the up side, I am in a cute room with a cute bedspread and I've written twenty or so notebooks worth of stuff in the time span of just a few months.
And after three goes of this.....argh!!!!!!!!! Fucking computer kept crashing. This is a few hours later and half a Chicago India Pale Ale.
Garrett's place is shaped....the building I mean, slightly like the Overlook Hotel. It has the same A frame shingle windows. Whatever this means, maybe nothing, maybe something. I know what I have to write as far as a NYC story goes, is on the level of Scarface or Taxi Driver. Except from a woman's point of view and retaining the humor. And it shall make me a star.....really the money is what I need the most now. If it weren't, it'd be easier, I could get a job with the census bureau like my mother suggested.
I have been studying Anne Sexton and Sylvia Plath I adore them both. Scorpio women writers are the ones I gravitate to. I think Sylvia Plath just missed being beautiful, but Anne Sexton was. She was blessed with the right facial characteristics. But Plath was a stronger writer. Just my opinion.
Anyhow.....
munch and munch, little munchkin
the road is yellow and
I have only orange
the road is yellow
I have only orange
you say that you said
you say that you said
gold is here and here is gold
munch away little munchkin
my love oh lovely
And after three goes of this.....argh!!!!!!!!! Fucking computer kept crashing. This is a few hours later and half a Chicago India Pale Ale.
Garrett's place is shaped....the building I mean, slightly like the Overlook Hotel. It has the same A frame shingle windows. Whatever this means, maybe nothing, maybe something. I know what I have to write as far as a NYC story goes, is on the level of Scarface or Taxi Driver. Except from a woman's point of view and retaining the humor. And it shall make me a star.....really the money is what I need the most now. If it weren't, it'd be easier, I could get a job with the census bureau like my mother suggested.
I have been studying Anne Sexton and Sylvia Plath I adore them both. Scorpio women writers are the ones I gravitate to. I think Sylvia Plath just missed being beautiful, but Anne Sexton was. She was blessed with the right facial characteristics. But Plath was a stronger writer. Just my opinion.
Anyhow.....
munch and munch, little munchkin
the road is yellow and
I have only orange
the road is yellow
I have only orange
you say that you said
you say that you said
gold is here and here is gold
munch away little munchkin
my love oh lovely
well
this will be part of something much larger. I am very scared......all the things that are out there on the net.....as someone who researches many spiritual matters it is very disturbing to see how much garbage is out there. Especially in the wiccan and pagan communities, some, not all, emphasize things like "karma" which are from the east, and according to discussions I've had with people raised in the Hindu tradition and India, where it comes from, it's been ridiculously distorted and abused in the west as really a method of control. In other words what is learned here has little to do with what it originally meant. Also, my friend told me the religious texts were written by a group of men. Point being, it has been popularized to keep people down, from having any real personal power which is of course threatening to those with money and power in the world. I once heard a speech by Sarah Palin, and so many conservatives, talking about how ....what was it? Rich people having more money and higher profits of business would benefit "all of you" meaning regular folk.....In countries like India and many African countries 1 percent of the population has all the money while most others are living in the streets, sleeping in cardboard boxes or on blankets laid out. There are rich people there, and they spend all right, and have many servants, I mean, yeah, they hire people to wait on them hand and foot and tend the gardens give them pedicures and wash windows.....list goes on and on......but how this benefits regular people, the ones begging for pennies on street corners, I have yet to see. It's sick, so sick I can't think of any words, how rich people have used religion to keep poor people down. Slave owners would tell slaves that this is where "God" wanted them to be and things would get better after they died. The idea of being rewarded in this mystical afterlife was motivation for enduring every form of misery on earth. Ironically, Jesus was on the side of the poor and downtrodden. Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are the meek and the needy, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Sadly....so many disturbed spirits roam the earth now.....millions of them.....more.....with no one to reach out to because their immediate family have been taught that the spirit world is mumbo jumbo baloney......thank "New Age" and all its silliness......finding out after it's too late they've been duped. It's scary to me, infinitely so, how many people I see their writings on the internet, people who abuse themselves. How long can it take before someone is just a lost cause, way out on the edge of the edge of nowhere......and there is no talking any sense at all to them? There is NO karma. That is total bullshit and stupidity!
Thursday, August 12, 2010
aphrodite
cruel deception
dizzy red it shoots through me
and I don't exist, I'm upside down
rage.....a mountain of it
I'm a 300 pound man
to the target.....who deserves it
rage shot out of me like a bullet
if only I had Dad's pistol or
lucky I don't have it
this worthless creature isn't worth it
dizzy red it shoots through me
and I don't exist, I'm upside down
rage.....a mountain of it
I'm a 300 pound man
to the target.....who deserves it
rage shot out of me like a bullet
if only I had Dad's pistol or
lucky I don't have it
this worthless creature isn't worth it
new stuff
well I do have tons of writing but it's all on notebooks. I had limited internet access and this computer is jerky in its connection so............but there is much to come. I just have to type it all out.
this is a dream I had....this is after coming back from a really freaky part of brooklyn: 9th st and 4th ave. The block is full of churches and then right next to it a Satanic bar. All on one block. All these houses look like your classic haunted house....like what you see in books.
Now, my stupid phone isn't working. On the up side, I made a small bit of money which I need.
So the dream is.....some people I know from the "art star" god such a corny phrase.....I'm sorry.....show up at my apartment or my friend's place.....and they are all dressed to go to the beach. Except it's very late at night. Somewhere interspersed with this I am driving a huge truck around a parking lot and don't know how to drive. I have this dream all the time. I run over a few things....and just miss going over the ledge. Somehow I get out and it's tilted to the side......
I am about to ask about a friend of mine and they tell me not to ask.....then they all leave.....I'm left alone in this place.....looks like it could be my dad's old place. The walls are white. I have that dream a lot too.....that Dad is alive and I'm with him in that apartment he had in Chicago....but we are in separate rooms. He is sitting in that chair he had. He's kind of alive and dead at the same time. He's trying to say something to me.....
So there's been good and bad. More on that later.
this is a dream I had....this is after coming back from a really freaky part of brooklyn: 9th st and 4th ave. The block is full of churches and then right next to it a Satanic bar. All on one block. All these houses look like your classic haunted house....like what you see in books.
Now, my stupid phone isn't working. On the up side, I made a small bit of money which I need.
So the dream is.....some people I know from the "art star" god such a corny phrase.....I'm sorry.....show up at my apartment or my friend's place.....and they are all dressed to go to the beach. Except it's very late at night. Somewhere interspersed with this I am driving a huge truck around a parking lot and don't know how to drive. I have this dream all the time. I run over a few things....and just miss going over the ledge. Somehow I get out and it's tilted to the side......
I am about to ask about a friend of mine and they tell me not to ask.....then they all leave.....I'm left alone in this place.....looks like it could be my dad's old place. The walls are white. I have that dream a lot too.....that Dad is alive and I'm with him in that apartment he had in Chicago....but we are in separate rooms. He is sitting in that chair he had. He's kind of alive and dead at the same time. He's trying to say something to me.....
So there's been good and bad. More on that later.
Friday, August 06, 2010
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