#6

i don’t care who gets the ring

who wears it

who has the lamps and the cleaning supplies and

don’t you know there are hearts now everywhere?

like the kind that said hellooooo

and after a long yawn

and that the stuff is no longer here

i don’t care

split it a million ways and could all be moved to the garbage dump

swimming in the Pacific gyre

sea of memories of times when they just sat

or spoke to tell story

and my heart goes up up

up up

rate goes up up

up

increase the value of the living beings i once (still do?) knew

as each inch of carpet is dissected like delicacy

everything has it’s price

but it won’t bring them back

neither will the picture frame

the desk

The vacuum

neither will the claims and tears and arguments of what a human heart is capable of feeling

that she didn’t have a limit on how much she put out

as did he

as did she

as did all of them

and my blood boils when i think of how we devour the unimportance of

what’s left

dilated and honed in pupils my heart beats at rebellious pace

to high pitched scream

in order to be grounded once again

in the midst of this greedy confusion

i hate

talking

about

this stuff

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this sounds so familiar 

bells ring across the land

the chord structure sounds familiar 

and sad

and i’m trying to remember 

go back in my memory

playing the notes backwards

the beat is inside out

and someone sings in spanish, which makes me cry

i’m breathing at a pace that seems reasonable 

but i don’t know if the fog will lift

or if this is a common aspect of the sf bay area

whether i could sit and enjoy 

whether i could appreciate 

whether i could find a place

where i notice that it seems more humid

and my throat doesn’t pierce with sharpness 

as i go to make a sound

where have i heard this loop before?

why am i reminded of the stillness inherent in calm water?

but this beat is different

remix distorted takes its own shape

raindrop home

i am inside a raindrop

i live in it

it is exhilarating to fall from the sky

people don’t know this but as you’re falling

the world comes into view

yet backwards — isn’t that interesting?

before i lived in the raindrop i never would have expected this

yet here we are

people don’t realize–

they make it seem like the length of time it takes for a raindrop to fall

is very quick

like the second hand of a clock

ticking away

but those of us who live in raindrops

we know that the fall from the sky

it’s the whole point

how else are you going to make the ground wet?

the fall takes longer than any of us can count

it’s infinite

we wait for the impact

but it doesn’t happen like that

and it feels very nice to be surrounded by water

my armor

shining in the sun

you can breathe so much better

you can think

it’s very clear

i don’t worry about the fall or the impact

because that’s not the end

sometimes i dream of what it must be like

to stand on wet earth

earth must be a very different feeling

one i feel alien to

yes, earth is very different than water

i wonder what it feels like

to stand

on earth

i wonder if i will like it

but i think i will

i think i do

maybe the water surrounding me has been whispering to me in my dreams

pointing out beauty

maybe the water surrounding me remembers what it was like to touch earth

when it lived on the surface

before it evaporated up to the sky

and decided to surround me

here i am

with water as the one who’s seen it all before

but i love to learn

i drink it in

and see and wonder as i fall

from the sky

to the ground

space to pause

catch my breath and look out into the void

and i forget where i am for a second

but it’s the kind of flash 

that happens in an instant

in a lifetime

staring back into nothing

blink of an eye 

opening to the world

in the seat of the unknown

in liminal space 

and liminal time

until i take another step and another

thankful for the pause 

and the memory of forgetting

and the movement brings me forward

night is

night is a tree glowing bright

is a memory that won’t be forgotten

is a song we all know the words to

is a delicious loving meal

night is resting 

night is time to search and for adventure

night is time to say 

i don’t know

but it’s this positive cool thing

to not know the answers

to be in the dark

to have all the opportunities in the world

to create

to create 

to create

night is an unforgotten memory

night is creation

is imagination

is spark is life is night

night journey

rolling hills

the kind that sing to you as you drive by

a blanket of night that covers soft grass

warm winds driftibg by

whipping by 

and on the road you can see the moon 

high up on the sky

you remember that it’s the same moon that was up above the waves

that settled blue gold light across ice crystals 

when the earth was covered in snow

and it’s this moment

when you release

and something shifts

even further as you keep going

but you are lighter than air now

i remember tonight

ah yes 

i remember tonight

i remember it well

tonight was the night that a group of stars got together

they sparkled and shined in the night sky

they twirled and danced

they glimmered and smiled

and this beautiful night

it was a beginning that was larger than any would ever know

and it was filled with more love 

and more hope 

than the whole night sky thought possible

ah yes i remember tonight

the dreams

The girl had a dream last night and when she woke her heart ached. She didn’t know why and at the same time, she did. She remembered. 

As long as she could think back, she never really knew how she got to the forest. She had guessed that she hadn’t always been here, but nothing told her why. She thought that she knew because of the dreams.

The dreams were more like flashes of another — in some ways, an alternative — reality. She saw things like dark parts of the forest she knew she’d never set foot on. She saw blurry scenes from a village, kids running around chasing a ball. She had seen the wolf-leopard-bear that stalked her, attacking someone, but knew somehow that it was to protect her. In another dream, she saw herself in a dress, sparkling against the vast waters she looked upon, shimmering in the sunset. A beige temple, seemingly empty. These were the images that came to her every night while she slept. And so, over time, she began to expect them and sometimes ask them to point her towards guidance. 

Many nights, the moon caught her tears when the dreams wouldn’t answer or would show her other things. She wanted to know why she was alone. Was there someone searching for her? But the dreams didn’t work like that.

Then one night, last night, she seemed to drift into another world for a long time. She saw people who laughed and talked to her. Touched her on the shoulder. Seemed warm and close. And in this world that she had never set foot on in her waking life, she felt as if she belonged. 

The dream was one of those that felt so real. She could taste food offered at parties. She could run her hands over the smooth fabric draping sofas. When she touched something she could feel its essence, pick it up in her hand and know it as real. 

As she woke, it was a jolt. This was the forest again. How long had she been here? 

Here in the forest, she was unable to cry. She felt breath leave her. She felt as though a deep crack had broken her heart into something that could never be as it was. She stared at the ground in front of her, fixated. Unmoveable. Sound echoed in her mind — voices from the other world calling as she sat somewhere in between.

that wasn’t real?

But it was. And that is what made it so painful. Something that had given her such joy was gone. As she woke up, she realized it wasn’t her mind making up things to entertain her or pass the time. No, this was a forgotten memory from deep within. This was true. And it hurt her deeply to realize what she thought she had forgotten and what she had lost. 

She stared at the damp ground of the forest not knowing what to do. And instead, she was stationary. She felt vaguely sick to her stomach— what had happened to her? Why was she here and not there?

post-it poem

I’ve been diligently working to *have* inspiration (as if you can really have it, it just comes…), but nada. 

You know, write these little plays or moments to share. 

Something new. 

Anyway, I had some great ideas, but nothing that really grabbed me and was like, “no, we’re not leaving until you wtite us down”. 
But then I started composing these little poems in my mind, these little strings of words together in my head and going to myseld, “oh hey, that’s pretty good, I like how that sounds or how it makes me feel”. I was about to write one down when another snuck up on me!

I had this song in my head and didn’t remember the name, only that there was a chance I’d sorted it into one of my Spotify folders. Sure enough, there it was. Btw, if you get a chance to watch the video (which I just saw for the first time just now), isn’t that strange and beautiful?

Anyway, I find the song and something tells me to grab a post-it and a pen. Then, poem.

  
 
It says…

Back in the days

we used to play by ocean breeze

Tree leaves woven in my hair

Do you remember the time we sat and laughed?

It wasn’t long ago…

So there’s a little something for today.

I have to chuckle after I read it over again because you can tell I’m a DJ at heart and get all these songs in my head and with words like “Back in the days” (or this one!) and “do you remember the time?” 

It makes me think of the different songs and words I’ve heard before and make connections. But I also think of the music and the melodies. They are what bring me from one place to another. It takes me longer to learn the words. And so who knows, there’s probably other stuff in the poem above that I haven’t realized are song lyrics from another time when I listened to it before.

Here you go! 

Oh, and here’s one more song that’s been on my mind lately…