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You can easily be replaced by a blow up poster. |
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There are times I turn to self mutilation. This is one of them. |
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Shaka!!!! |
Ah be lackin' RailRoaded in the 6th at The Thistley's tomorrow....#4.
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Sharon Dubiago.
She has guts. 100 Memories I Don't Remember The dress I was wearing when my brother was born, my bangs growing out. My father undressing me under the house in Ramona my sister has reported again and again, my white maidenform bra I am trying to tell my sister or someone downstairs to save the rotting lemon because it's organic. We can't remember everything. We can't forget anything the last hook, then snap of the band with the half inch seams I always had to take both sides of the 34D to fit my girl frame The migraine up Clevenger Canyon, there's a grainy black and white of this, I'm 16 in a white V-neck orlon sweater holding up my heavy hair having pulled over on that dangerous spot. Having Vicki take the picture because otherwise I'd never remember that I had a headache. Daddy and my brother were boys but not different from me, Mama and my sister. I thought of their things and our things like clothes we put on. Male and female, this is how I understood adjective. I believed with the fervor of prayer we were the same. I still believe we are the same. Daddy in his bath would show me how he masturbates, the word more forbidden than witnessing masturbation and I don't remember through all the years ejaculation. He lies in the tub, his big boned, white hairy body in the bubble suds. His hairy toes turning on the hot water faucet to reheat, that's how long we've been in here, his hairy fingers around his purple thing and what is a mistake? and what is remembering? what is a sin, instinct, desire, what is allowance of the self, what is justice and what is love? running away, disappearing into the fog to Korea to Europe ravaged to the river bottom, my father ravaged Going back to the house the first time after I told my mother in the bathtub, last week of 6th grade. I remember flying through the house, leaping off the porch knowing the greatest relief I will ever know, Mama will take care of it. But imagine going back and Daddy coming home. I remember her beautiful body in the bubble suds, I don't remember going back to the house, I never thought to try though she was never the same, I was never again her child, I didn't know this until now. I always thought my not remembering was good, this is how we forgive, this is love. I so loved my mother and my father and my sister and my brother. Last night I nightmared again the murdered girl. What to do with her body? I can't remember who she is but I remember the Los Angeles River still free though it had flooded before I was born killing so many it had to be cemented. I don't remember the Fathers' castrating me stuffing my mangled, bloody genital into my mouth, their faces can't be looked at. I don't remember my gender, my father, my tribe, the fear but I remember my mother is lost so my heart rises to go to them fleeing back down their many mansions then unable to weep, to remember how we walked the millenniums, each a galaxy of blood a hundred billion ancestral faces looking up, if you are found guilty, Daddy, will they execute you? I remember my first song, "shu shu m' baby." I remember going into that forbidden place, myself that island rising up on the horizon. I forget its name but I remember when it saved my life |
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Franny sent me an e-mail.
She has left me...and I am so very sad. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6UFNP...eature=related |
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The Traverse really sucked.
And Honula is playing had to get. She'll fold.....eventually. This usually does wonders: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6u9Fr...eature=related |
I see where the moo cow ow!! ow!! ow !!! is in ST's 6th tomorrow.
Too bad for him Midnight Mass,#7 ,shall win. |
Honula..what seems to be your primary malfunction here,ma'am??
You know you have fallen in love with me, don't try and hide it. |
The artist, when sketching, loves nothing so much
as the curve of the body as it turns away. I can't believe no one exclaimed some googlies over this. |
Today is Hawaiian shirt day here at NerdyTrail.
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Jesus...this has become a ghost thread.
With The Padlock going to pot and all the shell games going on here, one would think..................... Oh never mind. What does an attentionHO have to do? |
With That Moon Language -Hafiz
Admit something: Everyone you see, you say to them, "Love me." Of course you do not do this out loud, otherwise someone would call the cops. Still, though, think about this, this great pull in us to connect. Why not become the one who lives with a full moon in each eye that is always saying, with that sweet moon language, what every other eye in this world is dying to hear? Am I getting through? |
One more for now--and that's all you get:
This being human is a guest house. Every morning a new arrival. A joy, a depression, a meanness, some momentary awareness comes as an unexpected visitor. Welcome and entertain them all! Even if they're a crowd of sorrows, who violently sweep your house empty of it's furniture, still, treat each guest honorably. He may be clearing you out for some new delight. The dark thought the shame, the malice, meet them at the door laughing, and invite them in. Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent as a guide from beyond. --Rumi ^^^^ Tom Waits;before he drank beer. |
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