I hear your voice
when I read my thoughts
soft even well read
even voice
lips barely bouncing
off themselves
in perfect rythym
with nothing but
the reflex of thought
to mouth
I feel your mind
when you speak my thoughts
the horizontal trace
mimicking grace
thoughts I thought
vanished into themselves
in perfect abstractness
finding no one but you
to catch them
make them real
posted by the muse 9:09 AM
To see your eyes
I only knew
The pain I felt
that drags on you
The truth that rules you
the heart that suffers
romantic (hopeles) notions
bullshit blunders
Real is my name
I never regret
Hope is my game
don't ever forget
It's bigger and sadder
than we'll ever know
Love will keep it
from swallowing us whole
know you know better
know I do too
Know love's our only hope
though it may never quite do
Love me forever
thank for letting me go
I'll forever remember
the healing of my soul.
posted by the muse 12:17 PM
A very wonderful friend recently asked me:
"Are you afraid that they'll find out all of your secrets or are you afraid that they'll find you have nothing to hide?"I spent many a night running from that answer, simply because it is so fucking obvious. My only secret is that I have absolutely nothing to hide. It's pathetic if you ask me. I try, but I'm not a good liar. I wish because I'm a cheezy hopless romantic. I pray because I was raised with love and faith, and I run because I'm fucking human. I want love and romance and desire and fire, compassion and reaction and equal power. I don't want to be 60 before I have to; I'm afraid of myself and what I can and won't do (or will for that matter) with myself; I'm afraid I'll never figure out what I want to do with my life; I'm even more afraid that I'll turn into my mother (Jos- I love you!). I'm even more afraid than that because I'm excited (but in no immediate rush) to be a mother myself. I believe I'm blessed because I have my health, My Love, my family(too long to list), my friends (Candita, Yo!hanna, Padre est mes soeurs sont mon coeur) and my sanity (questionable); I have found nothing but good in my life. Not always easy, but good. And I don't mind learning the lessons I know will bombard me for the rest of my time here, nor do I mind making the mistakes that present the lessons. I've had wonderful lovers that still call me friend, I have heart to heart love affairs with every one of my friends. I'm emotional and nostalgic, I cry at chick flicks and don't do horror. I'm a stoner with a big heart that fucks me up and big mind that I don't use as often as I should. I have an out of control libido fueled by nasty thoughts, a need to feel like a beautiful woman, bizarre insecurities, powerful desires and Catholic guilt. I'm strong and need to be needed and I'm weak and need to be serenaded to sleep. I rarely make sense but usually do, and never ever ever do I pout:). I love flowery love poems and random love notes, and thirst for long kisses and having my lover undress me and kiss me and tease me in preperation for hours of making love to our soul; I get lost in my own mind all to often driving myself in circles knowing all this and still feeling badly about myself and not knowing how to ask for or demand or even knowing what it is i want from myself, or anyone else for that matter. I'm outwardly outgoing and secretely shy. I stay up all night playing with the oxymorons that make up me. I want to be everything, but can't seem to do one thing right. I want to be irresistable, but I don't know how to approach myself or you. I know love and I feel love and I feel pain and I feel angst and I get depressed and I get bitchy. I need love and attention and fun and romance and something to look forward to. I get lazy too often and hopeless to much, but I will get over it. I let my heart and bullshit take over when I know it's time for my mind. I know I have no one to blame for anything I do or don't do but me. I know i have to get my head out of my ass and do something. I know I'm going to be OK. And I know better than to let myself think that life is anything other than wonderful.
posted by the muse 1:41 AM
I was flattered that you saw me so quickly
that you got in my head so quick
You found parts of my heart and soul
that I hoped and prayed someone would find
I need some direction
something to pull me out of myself
and put me back together
and put me back in right side up
I still hope that if you keep digging
something will miraculously appear
you know, the stuff that has been hiding from me.
I know I can't look to anyone else
but the big guy upstairs
for redemption or salvation or validation
Yet I keep hoping that one day
I will find the button that turns me on again
posted by the muse 9:10 AM
My intentions are pure
though my tactics are questionable
I just want to be sure
I'm not draining your sensible side
I wish I had more of me
to offer as inspiration
I hope I find more under here
to add some fuel to the fire
As of now I'm suffocating it
with my own hot air.
At least I'll have only myself to blame.
posted by the muse 2:11 PM
I know I don't make it easy
to reach in and grab hold
It's not easy when there's nothing
but mush in here
posted by the muse 2:02 PM
Where did my music go?
Did I forget to turn on the stereo again?
Why don't my pen flow?
Did I forget to pick it up?
Why does my head hang low?
Did I forget to lift it?
Why does my heart hurt so?
Did I forget to live?
posted by the muse 11:03 AM
It felt so good, being home again, like a dream. But like the dream it wasn't the same as I remember it. No, it was exactly the way I remembered it, I just doctored my memory. The nostalgic memories glorify the good. And the good was safe and comfy and warm and stifiling and suffocating and bittersweet. Reality. Which is why you sell the house. Then you cry and refuse to drive by and you go into every room in your dreams and remember every nook and cranny, and the way the radiators banged in the night and the creeky floors squeeked under the carpet that you tiptoed on to avoid waking the p's when you snuck in at night and the way the moon watched you sleep and the sun woke you with kisses every morning and the tree that danced out your window to protect you from the boogie man and the broken cabinets and the warped doors and the stereo that never worked and the basement that held my memories of childhood in escrow for me, and the parties and the fights and the crazy nights and the walls that, had they been able to speak, would have had me grounded for life and the back yard where i first got kissed and the front door that welcomed my silly when it should have locked me out. And the living room that always forgave me.
posted by the muse 5:25 PM
Two from the archives:I don't steal souls
they steal me and
seep thru my pores
run thru my veins
get in my head
to play with my brain
rest in my heart
dance with my soul
burrow themselves into my love
never letting go.I didn't give in
to the comfort of know
the dreamy taste of yesterday
almost swallowed me whole
but the bitter aftertaste
shocked me awake
I knew deep in the
deep of my soul
another bite I could not take
I can not tempt memories palate
and sweet real I won't forsake
why drool over a 2 week old plate
when just today I baked a cake.
posted by the muse 3:30 PM