Make Art, Not War

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

To tell it like it is, this is how it goes:

With his hands on my hips as he went through my pockets
I felt my consciousness slip, retreating- I didn’t scream
I didn’t see him
And the guy behind me craning my neck
back with his
six-foot-something grip, chin rigid in the
crook of his elbow and my purse
in his free hand.
And it happened-just like that.
A block and a half
from here
two weeks ago, or so
and now
I’m trying to let go
of the phone (my ring tones)
my cash, the cold
my fears, the folks
those phone calls home
“Let go, “ He said in the calmest of tones, “just let go”.
Well, Law & Order fans will be disappointed
by the mundane details of
case no. 07-something, something
no violence, no sex
so, I’m lucky, I guess
or so I’m told
(case closed).
you know,
you can learn a lot about yourself
when you are held against your will, well
I learned I am smart enough to know
when I should just stand still, now
all anybody wants to see’s
the victim that’s been made of me, well
spare me the pity, and tell me again how sorry you are
for me
cause this is how it goes (it just goes)

Wednesday, January 16, 2008


So, I am starting over on this whole blog business and I've decided to use it primarily for poetry instead of rambling nonsense. (dont worry I'm sure there will still be some of that) so I've gone over some old posts with old stuff I wrote like this one: Breath. It's my first really preformance based piece, so I thought it would be a good place to start.

Her universe expanded and then contracted
The apocalyptic trip through time and space
places she once called home
left her feeling empty handed, which went unbalanced with
the fullness of her head
all that gained yet useless knowledge
of how a star collapses
now collecting cosmic dust of planets
that didn’t survive the end of another world.
But she was a resourceful girl
She summoned all her gravity to pull free from that sad destructive orbit
set her elemental wisdom to the task of creating
new life on strange terrain, under an unfamiliar atmosphere
and as far as stars that might like to draw her near
she assigned the constellations. Permanent placement of those fabled heroes
so that she could see them clearly in the night sky
with enough distance and stillness to gauge her coordinates by
As she settles in for the slow, cold loneliness of space
All that space and free time. Time measured out by the millennia
and still it did not immediately effect her so that it didn’t matter
what it was measured by
Every time she feels her skin go cold, or settles her bones
she feels she must explode again, and then she explodes
Every time she sheds a skin she begins again and on and on and on it goes
and it always ends (she knows, she knows)
So when the suffocation of her situation sets in
she remembers her breath and inhales then.

Well, I guess that's it. Welcome.