Saturday, January 31, 2009

to be free

the soul of the Night
and the love that is Light
join together to fight
against wrong masked as right.

and I with my weakness
try to break through the bleakness,
exit this tomb of red and blue glass--
(pursue the abomination: ASK ASK ASK)!

that i might fly, inside, abide
with Night and Light, take up their cry,
run together, scream together
abolish polished walls, bring fall
to palsy of the soul, and all
boundaries surrounding
hearts that Are   
                                                                                    to be free!!!!


my fingers will travel this track and all that we have ever lacked will be turned back by the border officials of this land of sonourous beauty

[the photo is of my guitar, motionblurred frets sidelit by flashlight in the dark]

Thursday, January 29, 2009

the switch

he likes to chew his cashews in five
washes dishes and scat sings to feel more alive
he wonders when and if love will arrive
and searches for the switch, survive to thrive.

Monday, January 26, 2009


yellow teeth, smoke rising
beautiful and smiling--

i miss you, old friend.

Monday, January 19, 2009


wait while the ghosts of dead families decide my sentence—
the judge is out and the jury sits in the big chair with a mallet
and pounds little birds into the woodwork

please! duct tape my heart to the inside of my head!
turn my skin inside out, maybe then, maybe then
clara barton will run away!

i dare you! look away from that cancerous dance in a box,
look me in my eye
and oh! how our insanity shall multiply!

do you feel it? the creeping madness?!
the hurtling stone in the heart, the bitter sneer of the lip
the excrement of a thousand subconscious lusts tingling in your toes!!?

and i will kick and kick and maybe finally, finally
my foot will fly off and land on the boardroom table,
and the moldy beasts with their black leather briefcases
will shrink back in terror while i hop to the kitchen to get a bagel

but oh! my love! if you read this will you still put my head on your heart?
will you still kiss my neck, run your hand down the appalachia of my ribs
and smile?

lightning! make me your mistress, we will find electric pleasures in the angry clouds
and i will hide in the forest when the sun comes home from work!

don't look! don't look! don’t look to the sea!
for salt and spray have betrayed you and me
and our boat's beams are made of bones

i am but a stone's throw from the chains of the sane—
thank god there are only boulders here.


i am gunpowder
i will explode one day
instrument of death
or joyful display?

Sunday, January 18, 2009

words of my hero

"It’s good to remind myself when I’m having a crisis of purpose and feeling useless that at least I can make something beautiful." -Andrew Bird

i am in that position. and i as well can make something beautiful. ah, what hope lies in art.

Saturday, January 10, 2009

todo fue bien / twenty three degrees

but we laid on the shore of blue marsh lake, mesmerized, hypnotized by the beauty of the moon and stars and we could have sworn it was them moving and not the clouds, and we saw robot dogs and cigar smokers in the moon and amputees and a child riding a dinousaur in the clouds, and i shook and shivered and exulted in the beauty of the earth and the company of one of the best friends i've ever had, and chilled to the bone there was peace among man in the silence. and little birds that chirped short bell sounding chirps followed us in the bushes on the trail and i had visions of big evil birds and was scared for a moment but fear laid itself back down on its bed in the back room of my mind y todo fue bien.

and we took pictures of the moon in the branches, and of the lake shore thirty second exposures and put ourselves in them to make sure this isn't a dream, and felt generally great, just like earlier when we were making and eating perfect pizza and blessing it with laughter. and at midnight i drove home listening to andrew bird's transcendentally achingly beautiful song "weather systems" (which is so perfect and special to me that i will only listen to it in very meaningful times) and felt grateful and remembered to turn off my high beams for the occasional oncoming brother or sister encased in speeding metal, and one time the shadow that my lights and a rise in the road for a fleeting second made looked exactly like a b2 stealth bomber. but "don't be scared" also by the wondrous mr. bird was playing y todo fue bien.

this morning i welcomed the sun coming through the rainbow italian peace flag in my window with a pantsless twirly beckoning kind of dance, to the tune of the tranquil and subtly joyful "tantric day" from "music from the world of osho" the album "ten thousand buddhas" and it felt so good and i felt like the universe was my mother and i thanked the sun for giving another day of light and i forgot what it said to me, but it involved a thankyou as well. then i did my spanish homework, y todo fue bien.

Thursday, January 8, 2009

a thursday evening

alone, i find some semblance of peace
my fingers shake from lack of sleep
silence grows in its defiance of day
and all the songs in my head fade away.

your shoulder, your neck, their absence
my faltering frame's desire for warmth
your hand in my hair, a memory
the rest in your touch, a dream.

soon i will rise, but not inside
soon i will walk, but i wish to glide!
soon i will smile like i never lied
soon i will laugh, but i'll wish to have cried.

Sunday, January 4, 2009

goodbye, hawaii

i will miss you and your friendly beaches and the strength of the waves that break upon them, and watching the surfers ride them for pure joy, and waking up late to the warm sun through the window and putting on jack johnson and smiling inside and out. thankyou.

Saturday, January 3, 2009

the best things

"There are things you do because they feel right & they may make no sense & they may make no money & it may be the real reason we are here: to love each other & to eat each other's cooking & say it was good." -Brian Andreas

Friday, January 2, 2009

oh eight / oh nine / don't worry be happy

"The new year is here, and I wonder what it will bring. I wonder what great music and art will be created, what new relationships will be formed, what adventures will be undertaken, what losses will come.

This year, I want to really think all the time. To question all the time. To love truly, to create amazing things, to adventure, to take risks."
that ^ is from the beginning of the year. i was all about capitalization then, haha. i feel very fulfilled as i read my aspirations for this year and know that i realized them. here are a few things i remember from oh eight:

falling in love with diana and existing in it in Spain, first kiss in the basement of a hippie store in madrid, all messy and beautiful, and the ensuing heartbreak of our end.
mountain top moment in argentina, just me and the andes with golden light on the jagged peaks.
seasons of depression and numbness and a whole ton of self doubt.
fires on makaha beach in hawaii with a mandolin, cousins, and the brightest sky of the universe.
winning the ping pong tournament.
timeless incredible perfect jam sessions with matt in the big room
playing the goodbye song to the class of oh eight and all the tears that followed, and all the tears that came with the realization that my best friends, band members, and myriad special people were all leaving me.
andrew bird concert and its vast and perfect beauty, telling mr. bird that he is my hero, to his face.
waking up to sufjan on a lazy sunday morning and being warmed by the sun coming through my flags in the window.
nasty sweaty mornings working breakfast dishroom.
brazilian lover eduarda and learning emptiness of lust without true love and depth.
talking to jolly okot, warrior of peace in uganda africa on the phone, invisible children and my attempts at leading an effort to raise money for them, the depression about not doing enough, and the revival of my passion for the cause.
reading on the road and the dharma bums and their subsequent impact on my thought and life.
talks and tough questions with pastor serge.
stress, a quarter's worth of ap english work to do in one night.
getting kicked out of bel canto and the subsequent pain and acceptance.
active meditations with helouisa in argentina, and learning about life from her.
finding a love of languages and learning spanish.
finding peace with a sweet smelling flower and the wind and the waves on waikiki beach.
lots of thoughts on death and life and the moment.
seeing the universe sway.
running around trees madly in the winter rain barefoot playing my harmonica in my irish felt tophat.
discovering the ugliness of jealousy, becoming accidentally trapped in girl drama.
andrea, our mutual fascination and attraction, and the sudden fade of the spark on my end.
the wall.
el porro and ensuing beautiful madness.
forays into conspiracy theories with dad, improvement of our relationship, actually having a deep conversation with him that didn't end in a stalemate of blind religious dogma vs my creedless open existence.
increased bitterness and anger and caged feeling at school, especially during forced religious activities, worship, church, etc.
dance parties with jeff and johnny and steve and a slew of random objects.
long term relationships between friends crashing and burning.
almost leaving school mid quarter to go on the road with dave and no money or equipment.
almost hitting a deer while driving too fast wrong side of the road at one am blasting hardcore with the windows down.
amelie and her vast inspiration.
discovering walt whitman and leaves of grass in the library at union while i was supposed to be auditing a class, reading "one hour to madness and joy" over and over again and the tears that came to my eyes for its perfection.
the intense call of the night and being stuck inside blue mountain academy's fucking dormitory and not being able to answer.
the jawdropping incredible flamenco guitarists that i saw in an irish pub in argentina, three times.
loneliness and the inner tension of a need for love and a desire to stay free and a desire not to use anyone or hurt anyone.
learning to crochet and making a damn good hat for emily.
descending into san martin de los andes at night on the bus while listening to pavoratti and the way his last high note ended exactly as the bus stopped.
new friends, abi, johanna, andrew, graham, michelle, mao, the whole gang in bariloche.
running down the street for sheer joy late at night and afterclub aloneness with the lake and the wind at 6 am.
breaking out of the bubble i've lived in most of my life, the difficulty of breaking the mental bubble, and the pain of having to return to it.
hiking in argentina and hawaii and rediscovering my love of the trail and the natural world.
getting the d300 and the subsequent artistic depression about not using it enough.
writing amazing poetry, and writing shitty poetry.
my radical raw soul experience on senior retreat in which i saw the world as one huge fluid existence of energy and sobbed heaving hard deep cries like never before over the lack of love and acceptance and freedom and expounded all the silent wisdom from my heart on ears that did not truly understand, friends who thought i was demon possessed, and i felt the souls of every person in the world and laid on the night earth writhing with love and brokenness and release, and justin's scary voice when he said there is only one way, speaking of jesus christ, and my subsequent broken cry and throwing of the earth at him, our tense exchange and eventual hug, and how i wanted to dance after.
feeling like a failure one day and a savior the next, and feeling nothing the next, and everything the next.
masses of ideological confusion and the realization that how i got here, where i'm going, and what is happening in a different dimension does not change the way in which i wish to live my life.
being forced to cut my hair.
surfing my first wave all the way in to shore.
missing the people i love that are scattered about the globe.
moving past listening only to indie and reveling in the incredible soundscape of the music of different world cultures.
discovering my love of reggae and late nights dancing to it in la cantina.
myriad future plans and the accompanying excitement.
photoshoot on the shed roof with janna and angela and a saw and an orange and chairs and newsweeks and croquet mallets wearing all plaids and a bowtie.

i thank you, oh eight, for all that you gave to me. and now i move on to oh nine. i will graduate high school this year. i will turn nineteen, which sounds much older than eighteen.

this year is about eschewing fear. it's about stepping out of my comfortable little inner self and becoming a radical. talking to all the people i see that i want to meet and learn from and share with but am too afraid to. being bold and passionate and intentional about my life. becoming secure about myself so that i can better give of myself to others. doing the odd things that i want to do that free my soul without worrying what people will think.

i want to love boundlessly, experience deep raw intense soul experiences, create beautiful meaningful things, learn all that i can, adventure recklessly, live in harmony, find peace within myself, actually finish some of the things i start, meditate more, read, write, and learn to live simply.

i'm excited about this year and its surprises and joys. i also am sure it will hold pain and aloneness and difficulty. i embrace this. the fire cleanses the heart. "the more that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain."

i love life, and celebrating this year's one digit reminder of it. i am thankful that i exist. i am thankful that you exist. let us dance and sing together.