blueimber: (Default)
This Friday night i am trying to get back to the Urban Juke Joint to read again:

Friday, February 29, 2008
Baha'i Unity Center
53 East 11th Street (btwn Broadway & University Pl)
Take the 4, 5, 6, L, N, Q, R, or W to Union Sq-14th St station
Contact: (917) 331-9189

It's open mic so if you want to read show up around 8/8:30 to get on the list---
Anyone who wants to come out and show some lurve, it is free to attend.

I don't know what i am going to read
and if you have anything you remember from this journal
please feel free to give me a nudge
i am not sure what kind of poetical mood i will be in
or am in
for that matter
and suggestions are greatly appreciated.

on that, i guess i have been rather impersonal here a little bit lately
not that in my ramblings i make my life out so intimately
but certainly i have become severely more guarded in the last few years than i ever was-- ever.
i suppose the roundabout of it is many things;
from the sequence of my life and living conditions to
the numerous and myriad of ways that humans can find to hurt other humans
directly, indirectly, outright, covertly, unknowingly, unwittingly, backhandedly, underhandedly- it goes on--
and on to
my ever analysis of self and worth.

i realized that i was being tromped upon and that
i was being misunderstood and under appreciated and i backed away
i withdrew the glory of my presence
took my gift and removed it from the arena of view
locked it away and here i am now
many moons later
trying to justify those actions all
and even suggest a return;
but i can't
i have been altered too much too quickly in matters to dear
if there was any naive hopeful innocence left in me
well then it withered all when they say he died.

i didn't want the things i wrote here to reflect badly back against someone
in the reader's forced ignorance;
i purposefully keep my subjects elusive and vague, trying to go for the emotion
and not the situational blame....

if i started on this site about bitches and hoes and jerks and assholes
everyone would assume they knew my heart
and i can assure them
my heart is unfathomable truly
they cannot know my reasons for my actions
they cannot know why i allow for what ought to be major hurt and
why at the smallest slight, conversely, i will hold back the rains and smite the land.
my heart is complex and rules my mind with it's own set of logic and
if my writings and experiences have taught me anything it is
that i cannot change my heart
i have to change my actions to better protect my heart
even if it means hiding some of myself
which i guess is really how i have been reacting
for the majority of the space of the year that lay in the wake behind me...

i don't like not being my full self at all times
true and bright and shining
i don't like that i have to edit or curtail my emotions
keep them unknown or lighthearted
to watch how things play out
i hate being guarded

watching people go through drama and their own personal turmoil
i have looked at their tears wistfully and wondered why i haven't cried
wonder why i have been so dead emotionally
wonder why i do not even mourn myself--

is it because i am stronger?
is it because i am so far from anything i could hope for?

i guess i thought i was on fire
i guess i thought when i alighted back into reality from my little vacation
i had been sparked to burn
for that was all i was for
and when it smoldered
i misunderstood and thought it to be just a slow burn
not thinking that the backdraft would
as it always eventually does
incinerate me.

i was hopeful and life was full of promise.

and then the reality truly dawned on me
the faces of the masquerade blurred into my vision and
those who i thought had shown me their real face i saw wore masks
those who had been masked were revealed and
my world was left spinning off end for a while
and until my nausea subsided
i sort of took it all underground.

my love is not something that i give and think upon being hurt
'oh, i regret this'
it is not something i give, state and then take back;
my love is determined from my heart and i cannot deny it
i have to allow myself to be hurt sometimes in the name of it
it makes me stronger
it makes my ability to endure stronger
it gives me strength to draw upon and examples to site to myself
hurt passes and relations can change and grow
yes, some do grow stale and fall into disrepair;
but if someone is meant to be connected to you
it is amazing how much you can find you understand.

For instance
that i get hurt so many times when i extend my love in the hopes of finding a partner or companion--
eight years ago i met a young man, i was two years out of highschool and he was a senior in;
although i paid him no initial mind
within the space of a few months
his attentions and personality had endeared him to me
and once our mutual endeavor with the theater ended
i made an attempt to keep in touch.
for years he would be touch and go in our relationship
sometimes we would see each other all the time
sometimes once a month
sometimes it would go half a year or more between mere moments of time
i remember the first time he called me after telling me he didn't want to be in a relationship
and spoke about his new girlfriend to me.
i remember when he was single and i was seeing someone
how strange it felt to me to know that i would know and love him forever, or as long as i could--
but that the man i was seeing would pass from my life with finality when it was that it ended
i remember the outrage that surged inside of my mind when
i could not see him because he would be with a girl who would consider me a threat--
me, i-- who placed my love aside because recognizing that he couldn't possibly know where his life was going to take him-
i chose to rise above his misconception of my love instead of fighting about it
when he said, and now still, says to me
that he has found some other girl
who is not me
that he fancies
that he wants to date
that he thinks he loves
although i feel a pang in my heart
because it is not me
it doesn't change my love of him
it doesn't change that i care for him and want to see him happy
and in that lay
the root of it
if my love is true, if it is real and well laid
doesn't it speak to anything that i am able to be happy for him
when he does find himself in situations with some other woman and finds his bliss?

no one ever ever ever gets that.

Of course, those who i do not love
who treat me as such
or even who offer up less hurt against me
i cut from my life with such efficiency that you would think
if you didn't know me
that i was heartless and uncaring about the plight of others...

of course i care about the plight of others---
i don't want to see anyone thrown into the fray or to the lions--
but i have my own measure of determining connections to people
and to the mark of my love upon them
i open my door to each new person in a different way and see
if they know enough to come in
or if
they were only knocking as a courtesy
i will lay out just enough information to expose myself, to explain my heart enough that any intelligent creature
could discern it
and then
i lay in wait
and see what they do.
i don't love them, but i have left the door open to my heart for them to come inside.

some do
some do not.

some people, i bear my truths to and they turn around and knowingly stamp the hope down
like so many weeds
some people i wax poetic to about how i feel and what i want and they
crawl across the underbelly of human relations
and take from me that hope
poison my love, my friends,
and then release it, decrepit
having glutted themselves on my sorrows and hurt and the
control to which they exerted over me and the object of my affection--
a situation that my love for the person sometimes has not ever been able to fix.

i remember the first time that happened
and the resentment, hatred and misunderstanding that
my once lover
seethed with
believing the worst of me
completely misunderstanding that when i said to him i loved him
it was under the precept of friendship
which he asked me about before we even ever kissed--
he said;
"what do you want of me?"
and i said
his breath hot upon my neck
"not any more than that which you are willing to give--"
and he, kissing me, said
"then, we're friends, we're okay?"
and saying yes, we became wordless in our hunger of each other
for that moment
and after--
afterward he could never reconcile the friendship
always thinking that i was moving in circles to entrap him into more
and treating me with anger, fear and loathing
so willing to believe that for his desires i was going to lay him low
that i would play the cards i had against him because i was unrequited.

he could never wrap his mind around the theory that i wanted good moments
moments that wouldn't be spoiled by a change of heart later
moments that were true when we were in them and that would be true once they had passed
and his misunderstanding has taken those moments
and warped them now into hurts i bear
into memories i must keep in check in order to give
any new interest a proper blank slate

so where am i going with all of this?

i guess i am just dwelling upon it now--
trying to figure out the direction my life is turning.

i suppose at the heart of this is that
i am tired of these half connections
of these half understandings
i do love my friends
on occasion at my own expense
i would give them anything they asked for
i am devoted, loyal, loving and open;
i try to be everything that i am looking for in someone;
friend, partner, lover, companion.
You would think after over 28 years of this
i would have found something that works
but my unique and beautiful way of interpreting the world
has left me stumbling, alone and disillusioned.

is it so wrong to want to feel the strong hands of someone
pulling me close?
is it wrong to want to feel his kisses upon my neck, his warm skin against mine?
it is wrong to want to feel desired, to want to feel beautiful and sexy--?

of course it isn't--
and i can't be denied my pursuit of it any longer
i can't lay my head down and wait
i can't pray that sommat else sway the heart and feelings of those who i would love
if my own merits cannot--
and i cannot any longer let fear and insecurity rule
in my house of love.

what does it change?
does it let my heart sing this new song?
does it shadow those who i had loved once;
hiding their faces from the warm sunshine of my affections?
does it even matter;
will they even notice?

and i;
not even sure i could know what it was i wanted
if i saw it.

((I believe i would--
i believe i would know it as his kisses fell on my skin
i would know it when his fingertips will touch the places no one has dared in time out of memory
i would know it when i taste it
when i reach for it and find it reaching back
when the desire within the intimacy becomes the
undeniable and naked collision
of minds, theories, concepts, bodies and emotions
all in a brilliant flash
of doing what it was
i was put here to do.

i would know.))

blueimber: (Default)
last night and i was listless
in the dark of my room under the light of one lamp
playing around with my xacto
and it fell
tumbled from my fingers
tip first
into the soft skin of my
upper thigh--

a little drop like
liquid ruby
rose to the surface and threatened
to spill over itself
and cry
from the wound
when i removed the knife

i sat there
a little enthralled
hoping that there would be more blood
but it was just a pinhead
the devil danced upon it
asking me asking me
'Emily, what have you wrought?'

heartache sirs
since i sliced my life open
like some ripe fruit
those years ago in proclamation
thinking i was worthy of love
letting the life
drain away from me
until now you come upon me
and find only
how empty
i really am.

i have succeeded in giving away
about everything
i am
no one
i am nothing
i am

despite feeling beautiful
despite all of the things i have going
i come back to
the same wish

the same sentiment

let me die

oh God
please just
let me die
let it be enough that i have tried so hard
let it be enough that i have struggled so much
let it be enough
have i not fit the bill?
have i not paid my due?
have i not followed what best i thought
true things?

why do i ceaselessly want to stop
to lay down and not ever rise again?

and my life is full sometimes of such wonderful things
such wonderful--

and i know i am not done here
that i have not done enough here
that i have not lived at all

yet i am so tired
i want to be happy
so much--

i have been happy
i have had glorious moments of perfect orbit
when the ellipse shimmies and dives around
everything on their axes
everything singing

i want to hear the song again
i want to lull into the melody

but the thing is i want
i want too much
i want too much i take too much
i am too available
i am too easy
i'm not--

i have no personality.
i am boring
i am like talking to a wall
nothing interesting to say

even in the quiet hours
when and even just one person actually stops and listens to me
i am too far removed to be understood

revel in the silence
how can you tell someone
that you don't want to talk
you simply want to share space
share time


like the wheels on a train turn
trains which run far north
into the colder mountains
up to the clear waters of the hudson
under the banner of autumn and night
at haunted railway stations
indulging in
the freedom of being
and so much else---

i want
to listen to music together
laying on a bed
with nothing else to do
and just listen to the music in the night
watch the stars
and not talk
not have to talk
not have to say anything
just to be
to enjoy the beauty of it---
to understand

i want to be understood
i want to be beautiful in these ways
i want someone to miss me when i am not there
i want the lighthearted easiness that i bring
to be desired and sought
i want to be a comfort and a joy

i don't want to be
old hat

i want too much
i want more than those who i want it from are willing to give

i want to be in the presence of a man
and have him be proud
that –
that it is upon his arm i have alighted
i am not some
desperate wifey
searching upon which ankle to clamp my chain
not that
i am yet
a beautiful nightingale
who is here for one moment
singing her song with the flute of her throat
and gone the next
flying on towards what scents float on the wind
bringing me away—

if i stop
if i sing
please only listen
please listen
and hold me when i am here
you don't know when i will be gone.

it is not so terrible to own me for some small time
it is not so terrible to be thought of as one touched
by my hand

"sore must be the storm
that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm"

i choose so careful onto whom i place this affection
this burden it seems

i do not mean to overload
i just
when i think i am wanted
i give so much-
i give so much---

and lately
lately i have felt so small.
so insignificant
so unworthy of being held

let go of.

i landed and was shooed away.
there is not one tree, not one shoulder
one arm
i belong upon

"asking me
'she's so free,
how can you catch the sparrow?'"

see it?
see it see it see?


lay my head down softly.

i just
i wish i knew
i wish i knew where to go
what to do.

i want to be happy
and not so sad
but it's been years

off again—
gotta fly away again----

September 2017

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