Dream

I have this great dream: I’m sitting in my own shop, the shreds of a thrifted t-shirt in my calloused hands. A well-worn sewing machine waits for me on my worktable. A customer comes in to pick up her bridesmaid’s dress. She smiles at the white light and walls covered with the work of local artists. As she pays, she thanks me for making the dress stylistically wearable. The bell dings as she exits and my business partner and good friend emerges from the back room.
“Matt Costa or The Fratellis?” I grin. “I’d go for some Matt.” The clock ticks along with the now whirring sewing machine as I shove the loose fabric under the needle and music fills the room.
I recall: the handmade skirts I fashioned on a whim during weekends in high school. I remember seeing the possibility of every article of clothing I ran my fingers though at my local thrift store. Spending days after school devouring the drama department’s costume closet, I found priceless pieces for each of our shows. Birthday presents became no-brainers. I was, elementally, a creator. The satisfaction that craft gave me drove me to explore and learn more than ever. While not the most organized artist, I had all the basics covered. My scissor corner, the pile of scrap fabric, and the needles embedded in my mattress worked to create the portfolio I wore daily.
The thread snags. I bend over the machine, untangling the line and brushing off accumulated pins. I finish the hem by hand. Rising, I move to the next room. My co-owner is hunched over a silkscreen frame, inking a design celebrating local food onto a soft shirt.
“I’m heading off.”
“Okay, I can lock up.” I barely get a response from my engrossed friend, the shape of the shirt glowing in the dimly lit room. I gather my workbag and shove a pair of nicked scissors and the half finished stuffed pig I started that morning. The patchwork pig settles on the bottom of the bag. I click the door shut and start walking.
I can’t wait to live this dream.

lost

my voice gets lost in your ear
and
sweet words arrive at my doorstep
my hands are waiting for you
they’ve been patient for days
joining at one head taller
and
my voice gets lost in your chest

fill

you make me want to write
you make me was to shut up and just write
you make me want to stop fucking around and
write what i can’t say with my
tired, used up voice.

you make me want to write
a stanza for the cotton you stuffed into my mouth.
a stanza for the tongue that sits, useless in my mouth.
a stanza for all the time i wasted using my mouth.
a stanza for the silence this brings.
you make me write.

one poem,
mute.

an artist

the soft clay bends gently below their fingers, the sound of soul pumping into the piece fills the room. the rush of satisfaction, of pure emotion, that embodies the person who controls those hands. those hands stroking and kneading, pounding and smoothing.
all the pressures of living; anxiety, pain, frustration and anger: they all melt away, dripping softly to the floor and forming puddles of unanswered questions and nerves.
the evocation of new, different, beautiful thoughts is worth all the broken fingernails, stained clothing, and painful critiques.

a finished form rests on the table, a perfectly organic and complete reflection of the person that sits in satisfaction, their being wallowing in creation.

notes on life (me and you)

i want to be picked first.
bodybuilders? we've reached the twilight zone.
all-aboard!- this is the last stop till you-know-where.

twist me around your finger, sleep in on warm days, hold your breath for longer, see it all in a green light, dance extra hard, i'm into you.
forget i ever said that.

believe that skin is hard to overcome.
because most are held back by that gentle blanket of nerves.
i want to be willing and free of it.
and able. (add that in.)

just bring me closer.
so i can see that your chin quivers on the offbeat and
holes in pants make for a better pant.

overall, i would say avocados enhance the day.
take a vacation from being rad.
be mine, for once. just ask for the keys.
they support this advancement.

i make a bad choice as each new baby is born.
that’s 245 every minute.
the good ones are harder to tally.

and a welcome, well it ain't cheap, girl.
gimme a hand.
and all the nights.

they want you.

sister

the way we are connected inspires a line on the sand
begin with an “l”, then with wide, deliberate shapes,
complete the word.
reach across the dunes and the fire underneath it all,
breath with me and drop into my arms-
careful, don’t get attached.

i dream of your death and
i wake up, worried that we are too dependent.

my sister, we are the most genuine
you make my eyes glitter and my feet warm
you make my clothes fit better and my art more beautiful
you make the best out of the least
you make me cry when we hug

i’m too afraid of you leaving me too soon,
it’s distracting.

end result

measure the slick imprint
left on the mirror
to track the ones you hadn’t known
to the end and prove that they (you) are
not lost

and tell them again
because

your favorite spoken word is please
it’s a different story in chalk

the reason you stayed was to hear
that last phrase

hoping that it was about
our last day in time travel
or the spaghetti bowls we bought together

the first of few
that failed

and that old mustache perched
on a face i used to know
echoes a soft reminder in my ear
don’t stay

i can see that the result is not
what you had hoped for.

it just isn't

the reason i didn't get up this morning isn't you
it isn't the cold floor
it isn't the shower that only lasted until my hair is soapy
it isn't the empty fridge, bare save for a carton of crusted over ice cream
it isn't the lack of matching shoes
it isn't my hair refusing to stay flat
it isn't the car windows that (still) won't roll up
it isn't the traffic i meet on my way
it isn't the man i pass everyday; we still don't acknowledge each other
it isn't the heavy door i lean against to open

it isn't any of that
if only i knew.

inked

"mine is unique. I designed it myself"
I bet they've done a hundred of those.
The citizens file in.
buzzing, the gun sets to work
enveloped in candid art
they ink a little bit of each person's truth.
A dragon here, a pinup there.

Go in on a quiet day,
they're chatty and real,
bored without their craft to distract
Inked up; advertising

a history lines the walls:
Their favorite
The most challenging
The longest sit

each is a exploration of the lead designer's
Abilities.
these are the true arts
on bodies, in minds.
fast and simple.

"Give me your poor, your tired. Your huddled masses..."

and let me tattoo them.

untitled

the lagoon, water brown and murky, clinging to every hair as i emerge
daylilies, blooming bright orange and friendly
dirt, on the back of every child’s neck, resisting a shower one more day
mildew, warm and welcoming, the sharp smell penetrating my lungs as i race through the lodge
every other protruding branch, we slowly feel our way back to our cabin in the dark
the spinning wheel, layers of crusted clay chipping off into my grimy hands
the pungent dust, kicked up by the fraz players, finding my eyes, nose and mouth
the water, the purest water i have ever swallowed, right from the ground
yells of joy as the last two ga ga ga players have it out in the ring
the click clack of plastic plates as i carry a stack and set them down in the low cupboards, the top few falling to the floor.
safe

treaty

we each have a section of
what we can see
what we can know
each is our own
twisted
refuse to sign
that treaty of less than and greater than
note to the editor:
banish tradition

a season for you

each of the freckles stands out on his face

brown

coming from somewhere

summer

soft, brown summer

the yellow peace smoothing it down

living green

enter: breathing heavy

dry air

eating my. yours. his.

lungs

wet feet and bright, cool air

we mean everything we say

dropping

growing up with cats, i had always had a very clear idea of the role of pets. they are entertaining, detached, and somewhat aloof about their presence in our lives. handling cats is easy. because of their "aloofness", they are able to maintain a separation between them and their owners. this in no way removes from the loving nature of cats, or the incredible companionship that they provide. the cat is there, it needs to be fed, and usually, that's all.
the first time that i handled dogs, puppies, that is, was disastrous. a friend was a corgi breeder and brought several puppies to a gathering i was at. you see, when you hold cats and then stop holding them, the verb that best describes that action is dropping. i drop cats. i think most people drop cats. i'm pretty sure that most people drop cats. and the fabulous part is, that it's what you do. they always land on their feet. it's the best thing about having cats. you don't need to worry about the end result. they always. always. land on their feet. now puppies, you see, are a completely different matter. when i held my first corgi, then when i stopped holding it, i did what i had done with animals the rest of my life. i dropped that puppy. unfortunately, the dog did not land on it's feet. it did what any imperfect species would do, it fell. i dropped it right on its belly. i got yelled at, then a lesson in placing dogs on the ground. i thought it was ridiculous. animals should not need that kind of attention. i shall remain, forever and ever, both a dropper and a cat lover.

a bunch

i just don't know what to say?

it's been rough. i'm ready for summer. 

since ave's been home, i can get friendial satisfaction if i go downstairs and in my lazy half awake state, that's easy for me.

i don't know what's happening. it's weird for me to think about something like this as a fight.

i'm not someone who has fights.

i don't know what to say to you to make things better. if making things better means doing something for you, i'll do it. but if it means lying to about how i feel so that we can hang out, even though i'm cranky and grumpy, then i won't do that.

i want seeing you to be fun and special. 

it usually is... even though i haven't seen you hard core in a while, but it seems like it's been that way recently cause, like you said, we've been hanging out when i want to and on my turf. 

i don't know what to say. i don't know what to do. 

what's easiest for me to do is not sacrifice and not go the extra mile. 

i'm sorry?

i don't know if people understand this, but i have very specific friend moods.

if i'm in the mood for nick, or rosie or avery, then i want to hang out with them.

usually, i'm not persistent or desperate for that person, but sometimes that's the person i want to be with if i am with someone.

a lot of the time, i just need to do something and i can disregard the frieood (friend+mood) and just do whatever, especially if it's a group hangage.

the biggest problem, that you're experiencing, is that i can't predict my frieoods. and because i've become dependent on them, i like to be aware of them and follow my needs. most days, i would rather be at home than be grumpy to someone who doesn't deserve it.

maybe frieoods are bullshit... probably frieoods are bullshit, but i've been feeling like i have very little. and i recognize that i could just disregard them and do whatever what everyone else wants, but i'm wary. i want to know myself and total disregard of this part of me seems disrespectful, in a way.

i just don't want to ruin or waste or muss any friendships that i have right now because i was grumpy or mean to someone. i want to treasure these last few weeks before summer comes and life changes.

i don't want to waste any time with any of my friends, you very much included.

in some senses, i don't want to change or grow because i know that it'll mean friendships changing too, and that scares the shit outta me.

i smile bigger on the right side of my mouth.

next year, for prom, i need to find a dress i could wear forever. really.

when people talk about me behind my back, it makes me feel weird. and kind of cool.

it's gotten less cool.

jog it off

i think i might be able to sing.
maybe just a little.

i don't really have anything to write about...

the seniors are leaving really soon. i haven't really thought about it.
no one is going fabulously far away.
we got our yearbooks today and did some hardcore signing.
me and raq each wrote a page to each other.
i miss jackie a little bit.
she hugged me today.
i love what i have right now, but ill always want more.

i'm going to ghana in less than 3 weeks.
overwhelming.
i'm so excited. i'm also pretty sure that i'm gonna be bored at times.
i love being strong, i never want to be old and weak.

i love strong women. i think i'm in love with the cute woman at target who handles returns.
frealz.

on another note, i'm sick of being tired. i just want to have boundless energy.

let's hug.

foot bath

my dad bought our tickets to ghana today.

we're laving the day after we get out of school.

i'm worried that i won't appreciate it. 

i like to think i will, but i'm nervous that i'm just not as cool as i thought.

i like singing vigorously along to songs on the radio and not know the words.

i miss being a kid.

sometimes i get sick of being cautious.

thrift store=superior to everything

i wanna go running, but i'm feeling too heavy to move that fast.

i'm curious about what being someone else would feel like.

i would like the pool to open.

bitter creek

we're watching a movie right now in physics about time.

and time travel.

it scares me to think about it.

i like for time to be something i take for granted. i don't want to over think it.

it's time for bed, most of the time.

tests are coming up. i'm worried that i gave up too easily.

when i look in the mirror, i see less than perfect, but more than a wreck.

thankfully.

that sick feeling you get in your tummy when something bad happens?

you know it?

money is rough.

how would things be different if we had more money.

if we had less money.

i'm thankful, most of the time.

i love friends.

i live for them.

for some reason, i can't see past them loving me.

i want to dance like there's no tomorrow.

but really, this time.

kiss me.

just remember who i am.

who. not what.

sometimes i worry that i have medical problems that nobody is noticing.

maybe i'll die young.

here's to looking at you.

what am i gonna do when the system is done with me. how am i gonna live without the plans.

i kind of want to be korean.

no. just beautiful.

give me a hug. and never let go.

we can sleep and eat together.

nbd.

BD.

oh darling

fuck.

i just wanted to go out. it's SO HARD BEING LAME.

now is a time that i could use a reliable next-door-neighbor.

gimme a break.

you need to focus on things that are more pressing. i'm worried.

gimme a break.

i'm just trying to be friends. you being a dick to me some of the time isn't helping.

telling you to bugger off just makes me madder.

i'm trying to connect with more than me and you.

relax.

twisting the truth

the reason for seeing what we see and saying what we say and doing what we do is the greatest mystery of it all.
biology just doesn't suffice.
it's been a year. my eyes still burn when i look at you. when i divert my eyes.
it's not out of respect. know that.
i wish i was a musician.
i want to be able to create my own destiny.
can you spell liscencee?
nope.
i have dreams that reach further than what i was destined to do.
let it be.
if ever i settle, midnight walks will accompany.
one day i'll fly away.
if i could be anyone, i'd be me.
if i could look like anyone.
don't ask me that.
sometimes i forget how to be cool. remind me one of these days.
i love it when you laugh.
distinguished.
distinguish me from everything you know.
it's hard to observe.
kneel slowly, gently, don't hurt yourself.
life is hard on the joints.
if it's bigger than me, count me in.
it's smaller too.
i want to be picked first.
bodybuilders? we've reached the twilight zone.
all-aboard!
twist me around your finger, sleep in on warm days, hold your breath for longer, see it all in a green light, dance extra hard, i'm into you. forget i ever said that.
skin is hard to overcome.
most are held back.
i want to be willing and free. and able.
count me in.
your chin quivers on the offbeat. holes in pants make for a better pant. overall, i would say avocados enhance the day.
take a vacation from being cool.
be mine, for once. just ask for the keys first.
i make a bad choice as each new baby is born.
245 every minute.
a welcome. it ain't cheap, girlfriend.
gimme a hand.
i was made for lovin you, baby.
all the nights.

they want you.

poison

i think that the most important thing about growing up is remembering.
just remembering, everything.

never quite as it seems

i don't have anything to blog about.

10 things i want to accomplish before i die...

1 hike the appalachan trail
2 sing on front of a lot of people
3 take a hairstyle risk
4 teach someone who needs it something important
5 fall in love
6 see the world
7 love my body
8 make art that i love
9 swim in all of the world's oceans
10 get tattooed

motherlicker

i was having a stellar health streak.... and now i'm sick.

sometimes i worry thatthe only thing i'll ever be good at is crafts.
and even then...

i went to get a physical yesterday and got a tetnus shot. my arm is still sore.
i wish i slept easier.

i want to get tattooed.

sleeping needs to begin now.

fears and fingers

a couple weeks ago i had a dream where i chose to cut off my middle and ring fingers on my left hand.
i'm not sure why, but it keeps coming back to me.

i want it to be spring/summer and i want rugby to start.

i think i could use a little sun.
i wish i could speak other languages.

when i "grow up" i want to have a steady supply of avacados on hand.