Monday, November 20, 2006

Point Pleasant, NJ

Hosted by!

a love of mine - the sea. does not matter which shoreline. I shot this on my birthday, exactly one year ago. xo

Self portrait

Hosted by!

an image of me set with oil-based paint.

Just like Heaven

I love this song as much as I love the sea. have a great day. xo

What a year

not sure how I feel today. I have to get my license switched (I am moving out of state the day before thanksgiving) and some other things today. sadly, I will not be celebrating either my birthday or thanksgiving this year. my flat is full of boxes and I am so exhausted in every way.

what a year this has been, yea?

I want to thank all the lovely people that gave their well wishes. I am grateful to be surrounded by so many warm people.

I have been spending much of my time here:

it seems to keep my mind occupied at the moment.

I plan on sitting on the beach next week and getting some writing done. I have not done much as of late. I might even send some submissions out sometime in january. most of my recent pieces were asked for by a few publishers - some I submitted.

I have run across some of the greatest editors this year. one editor worked with me on a piece until it was in tip-top shape. I am forever grateful to him (thank you, patrick).

anyway, I have sat here and stared at this entry for over an hour. I suppose I am just not up to adding one. I will anyway. I wish you all a wonderful and warm holiday. xo

Thursday, November 02, 2006

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

Monday, October 23, 2006

Scorpio [me]

Trustworthy and loyal. Very passionate and dangerous. Wild at times. Knows how to have fun. Sexy and mysterious. Everyone is drawn towards your inner and outer beauty and independent personality. Playful, but secretive. Very emotional and temperamental sometimes. Meets new people easily and very social in a group. Fearless and independent. Can hold their own. Stands out in a crowd. Essentially very smart. Usually, the greatest people are born in this month. If you ever begin a relationship with someone from this month, hold on to them because they are one of a kind.

hmm... the fearless (and prob more) I would have to disagree with. I am a scorpio and I found out this past week - I am also a fraidy cat. I do not like to be that way. I wish I were stronger. I have not written a thing in days either - I hope I can gather my thoughts enough to write. I do not want to write of my sister - I want to let her memory rest a bit. I am tired of talking about it. is that bad? I dunno, but it does not mean I do not miss her; my heart feels as if it has been ripped open. and my birthday is less than a month away - all I want is peace.

anyway, gnite.


He made everyone smile. I said " make a funny face for aunt cherilyn" and he did:

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting


A few shots I took - an older one of my sister is at the end. I will add more later. (this is not even a quarter of our family.)

Jessica & Tiphanie

My 2 beautiful nieces:

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

I shot these photos while I was there. (Jessie is too cute - always trying to hide her braces.)

The funeral

on wed evening, I flew into Charleston, S.C.. I was the last one to arrive. the wake was earlier that day. the funeral would be the following day. when I arrived at my sister's house it was packed with people. my mum ran up to me and held me tight. I wanted to cry, but did not. after saying hello to everyone, one of my brothers and I sat up until 4 am talking. I did not venture to far into my sister's house, but to my room upstairs to put my bags down. I woke the next day and talked a bit before getting ready for a family dinner at the church. there were tons of my sister's friends that made a huge southern meal for us. I did not eat much and during this, I had to leave with my sister mary to the restroom. I had tears pouring down my cheek and could no longer hide them. we went back to our table and after a bit, we went outside.

I took a few photos while out there. after a bit, my mum and I went to see my sister. we went into the sanctuary and the entire room was full - even the balconies. it was v quiet. my mum kissed my sister and began to cry. she left with someone to go talk as I stood over my sister. I had not seen her for 2 summers. my mum had said how beautiful she was. no... I did not think so. she looked like a mannequin to me. her hair was swept over to one side to hide some damage and her expression scared me a bit. I guess her daughters picked out a dress, but it was too see-through (she had to have her arms packed since they were v damaged). I caressed her hand and began to cry.

I do not know how long I stood there. I forgot about the people in there - they were so quiet as they sat in their rows.

I chose the wrong shoes and could barely walk. I went and sat on a bench, fixed my shoes and met everyone in the conference room. we talked and then went to see her again. her daughter, Jessica (who saw my sister get hit by the truck) cried as she looked down at her mum. my mum comforted her. we all saw my sister for the last time and took our seats in the front row. it was a bit dark in the sanctuary, but as the violin began, a strand of sunlight came through the stained glass and lit up our family - it was v odd, but warm.

my sister was vice president of the booster club, an active church goer, a 4th grade language/arts teacher, and held huge bonfire parties each year. she was loved by many. her family has dinner prepared for weeks to come by her friends, a million cards and prayers, and a lot of love. I think they will be ok. being surrounded by so many was good for them - I am sure it will hit them this week, though. I wish I could help. Jessica graduates high school this year and my sister should be there.

anyway, after the service, we lined up, and crowds came by to hug us and such. then it was over. the hearse drove her away. her hair would be cut for "locks of love" (she grew it past her waist for just that), she would be prepared for her urn, and come home to her family. we went back to my sister's, where we all talked until 2 am.

the next day we went for a drive, I took photos of family, and I prepared for my flight. as the plane flew away, I cried and blew my sister a kiss. I will always love her and I wish I could have taken her place. I wish I had shown her my poetry. I wish a lot.

since my sister's death, I am the oldest and have to be strong for my family. not so sure I am the right one for that. since my sister's death, I have not spoken to a lot of people, I am losing things, and I cannot get them back to good. I am thinking all over the place and probably acting silly. I dunno.

I think of her and see her in the coffin. I did not want that. I think of her and mourn. I mourn for her husband and 2 daughters... I mourn for my mum. have I mourned for myself? yes and I feel selfish for that. I feel abandoned, alone, surrounded by people, lost, sad, angry, and I feel strong. am I? I do not know.

Sunday, October 15, 2006

Forever Autumn

*a mix of my photography and music by the moody blues. in loving memory of my older sister, denise... she died around 12:15 am on october 15th, 2006. I love you, denise.


my older sister died early sunday morning. she was taking her daughter's friends home after some band tournament around 1:15. she saw a pup that had just gotten hit. denise stopped to help it and move it from the road. she tried to hurry before traffic came. I guess she underestimated the speed and a truck hit her from behind. my niece jessica, her friends, and a friend in the passing lane saw the entire thing. she died instantly. she was beautiful. she had long hair and green eyes. she was a 4th grade language/arts teacher who lived (odd to say "lived") in S.C.. she was smart, kind, had 2 beautiful girls, a super sweet husband, and was a good sister. it all seems SO unreal to me. I am sorry denise. I love you so much. I am sorry this happened to you. I would take your place in a second. (I was making an autumn collection of photography. I guess I made use of some of those photos with the video I made.)

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Can I Sing You to Sleep? (recital)

Click here to comment!

Follow me - a video of some of my work

Click here to comment!

♥ Strange magic ♥

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

Camera/Nikon D50 SLR/No flash/Aperture: f/8.0


Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

late night ramblings...

this lady comes up to me in the market and asks me if I know how to check peaches to see if they are ripe. I smile and say "sure." as I take the peach, this woman and (I am guessing), her boyfriend begin to act quite odd. then she asks me if I have ever swung. of course, I had no idea what she was talking about. she began to explain. hmm... "swung", no, I have never but what an odd way to find one who "swings", yea? sadly, I gave her back her nasty little peach and continued shopping. I see so many things and I have to wonder how I stay sane.

while at work once, I was walking past the nurse's station to go check on a patient. I glance to my right and see a nurse open a drawer beside her, pull out a sandwhich, take a bite, and put it back. (now, this is a med drawer.) I ignore it and do what I was doing only to go into another patient's room by accident. there, I see a worker from housekeeping... she was spraying air freshener on her underarms. she looks at me, laughs, and sprays her bum and says "ya never know!" I have no idea what my expression was but I do know that I finished my job for the day w/o thinking about it again.

I think of it now, when I finally sit down and relax. I think of all the things that go on in my everyday life that quickly get swept away, because I am much too busy to react. there are so many.

I see that my exboyfriend was bored (I assume, I mean what the heck?) and he went to some website called, netdisaster and played like he was shaving the hair from my blog? and out of all the "fun" things one can choose on that site from vomit, to laser guns, he chose to just shave me. I do not know, but it is v odd. yet, I do in fact, stay sane.

I think people faze me less and less - I just glance at them and go on. (what are ya gonna do?) so tonight I sit and write in my blog and I wonder... perhaps I am surrounded by a few people that know of nothing better. should I help them in the right direction? no, I am a mere mortal. the only thing I can say--it reminds me of this man from my childhood. he used to pass our house barking at cars... if that gives you any idea of what I am thinking.

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

on a good note... life is treating me v well. I really try not to let anything get to me. I have a busy weekend ahead and feel happy in my heart. I try to surround myself with normal people to balance it all out... ("it" meaning the odd things that I come across). I have to be to work in 4 hrs or so and am so sleepy, so pls excuse any typos. xo p.s. thanks to my sweet friend, michael from LD, for the image of the memo. :) he is so funny.

Nudists Welcome

hmm... seems my family has quite the sense of humor. I wonder what I was thinking.

Thursday, September 28, 2006


I cannot say enough how much I love autumn. I hope everyone gets a chance to enjoy all the season has to offer. xo

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

There is a softness in love--in the tint
of it and in the breeze; the heart takes
in this softness and distributes it evenly
throughout the season. In the heart
sincerity can be quiet, a sequence of heart
beats, moments, or lovers stilled by the flush
of the moon. On the perimeter the heart
weighs much more than anyone could have
imagined. But, inside, its warmth and fragility
thunder lightly--just enough to be heard.
And when the chest aches in expectation,
it becomes truth and no amount of comfort
can direct its wants into white silhouettes
just hovering on the sidelines of a perfect
fall. (One must be in the consommé of
things in order to merge well.)
There is a sweetness to vigor,
just as there is a fear of what may become.
Like the surge of the sea when it moves
in and out from shore, its body wet and cool,
wave by wave. It is enough.
And it is sufficient that the hand fits exactly
into the hand of another –-the warmth alone
could leave one ignited between breaths.

9/23/2006 12:16:39 PM

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Let's smile together

An odd sense today. One I cannot explain. It is not for anything past or present - just a feeling I have.

I just need some sort of release. I need a vacation, a way to collect thoughts. I am not sad or confused, just so full of imaginings that I need to run to the nearest shore, scream until my lungs are blue into the sea - leaving my smile in the wind like someone else's poetry. Yes, that would do. ;)

Monday, September 18, 2006

Take me to the top

Click here to comment!

*the song I was referring to.

Contemplations or something like that

I sit here in slippers and smile. (I, for the life of me cannot figure out why I wear them. I adore going barefoot. I think it is because I stepped on a cat toy the other night that sent me flying into the next room. it was horrible, but funny now, I think.) yes, I am smiling and as my friend matt said, "seemingly solid". I suppose I am in a lot of ways. content is more like it. I feel living inside, vibrant, ready for anything. my eyes feel as if they are glowing. I cannot explain it.

I went to an inservice today on I.V. Therapy. let me just say that inservices are no fun, but if you are in the medical field, you need the hours. sometimes, I go to ones that are a bit boring, like OSHA. but it has to be done and seriously, it is not that bad. esp when you can come home, kick off your shoes, turn on "Stranglehold" and dance around as you try to change clothes.

(there is something exciting, almost sexual to the music that Ted Nugent plays there.)

I adore music - it takes one to the ultimate place. I enjoy all sorts of music - for instance, "Take me to the top" is extremely sexy. Loverboy sings that. (I heard the lead singer passed on a few years ago in a drowning. v sad indeed.) I like a few of their songs, but that one is my favorite.

so, I come home those two songs play one after the other and I am in an odd, but v delightful mood. not to mention my email today from a respected writer. (was better than neruda.)

my thoughts are scattered today - so much going on, that I am waiting on, hoping on, and such. I think I will write a bit, then reply to my email. but first, turn up "Take me to the top" on my Live Digital and dance. why not?

"Just give me your hand, hold it out, close your eyes, move up close to me... "

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

Darren Hayes

"beautiful" - darren hayes

* a favorite song - love the way he sings it toward the close. I know a lot of beautiful people... esp as of late. and they should know/feel that they are beautiful. it is nice to be near the lot, nice to feel the beauty within words and such. ok - need to get some work done! ciao

One of my first shots ever

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

I added the words "in gridlock" for a forum that I made a while back. I will have to hunt down that set on CD for the originals. I wish I knew then what I know now about photography - would have been a better set.

*on a side note - seems everything I do online, I have my live digital profile page playing in the background. it makes everything I do seem easier. I do not know if that makes sense. I guess music just sets the mood, yea?

I am listening to "strange magic" right now (darren hayes) - is a remake of an older song and v "mood setting", so to speak. the wonderful song that plays after that is by gigi d' agostino. I want that playing during my rooftop adventure. "don't be surprised..."

In B&W

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

A survey of sorts

Name 3 sexy songs.
crash - dave mathews, la passion - gigi d'agostino, erotica - madonna

What did you eat for breakfast?
honestly? 1 fig newton (in which I dislike) and a half glass of pepsi (in which I dislike) so I do not know why I chose those.

What are you most passionate about?
the sea, I think. it has to be the biggest turn on for me. it can leave you breathless one minute and take your last breath the next.

Name 1 song that is a turnoff.
love shack - b52s

Name a favorite line from a song.
“you have my heart, so don’t hurt me” – the cranberries

Name a crazy job.
my uncle louie is and has been the head guy at san quentin (in the death row area). crazy.

Name 3 writing influences.
neruda is a big influence - his work is sensual and I love the story behind his love poems. If he were alive, I might have written him love letters, charmed him into my slave, captured him, and made him write poetry all over the walls. ;)

gary sullivan - similar to neruda, but in letter form w/nada (another fabulous writer). I also like his format, other poetry, and humor. I have tried his format, but I am still 'young' at it and need to work harder, or have more patience. gary is quickly becoming a friend in which I have the highest admiration for. (Not sure as to say 'friend', 'associate', or another term - so I will just say 'friend', because that is how I see him.) I wish I could say that about neruda. don't we all? both great writers nonetheless.

gustaf sobin would be the 3rd - he is similar to the other 2 - his format and passion for what he believed in drew me into his work immediately. I love his format and his uniqueness. When I first came across him, I googled everything I could and read until 4 in the morning. such a great writer. all three are beautiful in different ways.

although they are influences, I have so much more to learn in order to get anywhere with my own work.
gosh... I hate to leave anyone out... I truly value all my favorite poets and friends.

What path did you take to your current career?
my first job was as a lifeguard. I loved helping others. most of my family is in medicine. so, I wanted to become a child psychologist, studied a bit and went into electronics instead. after I learned color codes etc, I felt bored and went into emergency medicine completely.

Why don't women like nice guys? they do not? I do. I like a smart man, a nice man, and sometimes a man that can be naughty. I like a variety actually - from a guy with a tattoo, to a guy that goes to confession (or both). I have not had a lot of dating experiences –
4 long term relationships and a 6 or 7 month one. what do I know?

What did you do today?
well the day is not over, but I had a half day at work, wrote a bit, and did a bit of kickboxing (I am trying to strengthen my heart).

What is your opinion on today's children?
hmm... I suppose they are different from the way I was as far as video games and whatnot. I was never home. I built forts, played hide and go seek, and explored. Plus some are violent (I am not really into guns). I feel sorry for the ones near the war---seems they have lost their childhood.

Were you shy in High School?
not really. I hated to be home for reasons that I will keep to myself, so I threw myself into track, cheer, student council, yearbook, and the sort. I loved to run the most. I was shy to a point of not dating until I was much older.

Do you like comics or humor?
Yes, v much. I like all sorts of comics. As far as humor – I think it is important for me as far as a partner is concerned.

Who was your first love?
wow, I suppose it was my first b/f. he was/is a dj for a radio station. the entire idea of dating such a well known, pulled me in (I thought I was cool - although it took me forever to even agree to a first date). I later found him to be arrogant. perhaps he was not "my first love".
I do not think I have met my first love yet. I do not know, love is hard to understand.

Are you wild or are you tame?
hard question. I am pretty reserved. my passion comes out in my poetry, I suppose. I like the idea of being wild. wild as in how? hmm...

What was the dumbest thing you have done?
believed silly little love lies.

Will you/have you find your prince charming or princess?
I do not believe in fairy tales anymore.

Name 3 favorite cities.
easy - san francisco, NY, and Milan

Name 3 fantasies.
love on a rooftop in manhattan. I only have one.

Have you played out your fantasies?

What are you wearing?
A pair of jeans, a cream-colored turtle neck, and slippers.
(not too sexy)

Did you vote for Bush?
I had to work, so no.

What was a favorite childhood book?
the mouse and the motorcycle

Name a sexy fruit.

Have you ever had fried bologna sandwich
or deep fried potato sandwich with butter?

no and they sound disgusting. haha

Name a sexy T.V. star.
well he is fiction, but tony soprano. I love a man in charge. ;)

Name a musical influence.
gigi d' agostino - he is an Italin dj from Milan. he is not really an influence, since I only play piano and keyboards and have not tried to play his work. shrug.

What turns you off?
being told that I am beautiful excessively, braggers, liver, mean people

What turns you on?
coconut/lime spray from bed, bath & body, smart men, a sexy laugh, the sea

Who would you like to meet?
as long as they are not a jerry springer candidate - I do not care.

What'll come out of these questions?
an ending? I do not know - perhaps I will be reminded that I have too much time on my hands right now. ;)

What will you do after you've answered these?
hmmm... check my email, run an errand, listen to songs on a web site of mine, and perhaps work on photos. I am not sure.

Last question.....where were you born and do you still live there?
I was born in northern, Ca. I lived in Bodega Bay, Sonoma etc as a child. no, I am not there at the moment.

Monday, September 11, 2006

An Early Autumn

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

I shot this at a small park. I cannot tell you enough how excited Autumn makes me. let's go frolic. we can buy cappuccinos, you can read Neruda aloud, and I can dance barefoot in the leaves. (whomever "you" may be.) what a fabulous time of year, yea? let's not forget the groovy costumes in October and all sorts of delicious chocolate.

Can I sing you to sleep?

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

I focus deeply to timbre, claw
my way back through the pages,
long after lexis had faded.
Because you are a watercourse along
the horizon and I shiver amid your docks,
name and breadth, a slow motion tide.
Because my collar bone slips to sand,
when the chest is flat of your humming.
And I do not think you unworthy.
And I cannot sleep, although my lids
are slipping
I await another round for consideration,
because something happened: an instant
correlation, a red to green, or perhaps,
an unexpected stoplight in the mist,
where tête-à-tête amplifies, and trend
is a poem or voice that lingers on the frame.
I have imagined your mouth; a sole clench
of the thigh, the bitten lip, a blend of
photographs in the mind, side-by-side
on a mattress of reddening leaves, where
we lean into the lens to form one throat.

An Autumn Arrival

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

Nikon D50 SLR

Good God

Heaven knows, I have to laugh at myself right now. I am such a dork (insert being a dork for saying "dork" as well). You know (or not), sometimes I think I can be smooth, well sort of smooth as far as people are concerned. But there are these other times that no matter what you say or want to say, you come out looking like a 16 yr old girl in front of Keanu Reeves - so flustered that you cannot say a dang thing right! Haha, that is me.

Although it is strangely exciting, I need to run to the nearest phone booth and not, change into some red suit, but drink down whatever it was that Alice had. I just hope it lengthens the time I have to be much cooler and not my legs. ;) Anyway, yea, I am seriously a fraidycat when it comes to writing/talking to certain people.

In other news, I will be interviewd on a podcast (details coming soon), I am taking another trip to NY soon, and I went shooting this weekend. During my trip to go shooting, it rained on and off. (I simply love the scent of rain.) I had to lie on pine needles to get some of the shots, bit it was ok - I took some of waterfalls, plants, and the sort. But it began to rain again as I sat up to change lenses. I had to pack up to leave, but wanted to sit there for hours with the rain coming through the trees. The forest was a bit dark before the storm, the sounds of the waterfall seemed to echo it perfectly.

I wish I could have brought back a photo of it all, but one could never capture something like that... you just have to be there. I came back to my flat with 20 or so photos, but just being there was worth each second. I would have stayed longer, but the walk back to the car was quite a distance, and I could not risk my camera equipment being ruined.

Ok, let me resize a photo from this past weekend, so you can imagine being there with me. It is such a beautiful place. ciao.

Friday, September 08, 2006


some of my photos along with music by darren hayes.

Click here to comment!


. . . would travel forever
towards those buried mirrors, what the future
consummately withholds. 'memories,' you'd
called them: the

grey gaze in its diadem of
dark lashes

lighting, at last, in the remote ovals of the
eventual. does it glow? then
glean. ripple? then
ride the

least quivering signal clear to its
fuscated source. for only the
image -- 'icon,' you'd called it -- withstands the

remitting dispersion of the
most adamant particles. move, then, amongst
shadows. in the
pale grammar of the grasses, read the

constituted facets of the otherwise
literated face. nothing

* Gustaf Sobin - 1935 – 2005

Gary Sullivan

First, what an amazing writer. Gary and Nada's "Swoon" (which I love jealously) is sensual, aching, powerful - the letters pull you in until you can no longer breathe. In fact, it inspired me to write with a fellow poet. (We have quite a few letters so far.) Perhaps, I will post one or two. Anyway, Gary just read my blog from start to finish (poor guy) - all I can say is that it made my day. He and Nada are two of my favorite writers.

I do not know if I should pull down all my bad writing and replace it with something else. I suppose it is a bit late for that. I suppose I should stop writing in here and reply to his letter, yea? I never thought I would feel this way about a favorite writer reading my work - it is strangely exciting.

For some reason I feel calm now (since I have been thinking of what to write), like "yea" with a nod of the head and a smile. I was also thinking, it is time to dump the overly sad poetry as of late and pump it up a bit with some Italian passion. I am ready to get back to my regular self/regular poetry.

If you get a chance, pls check out my fav author's list in my profile - I am sure you will find some excellent work that goes along with those names.

*on another note - look to the left and go check out Craig Ferroggiaro's photography... it is like having a cappuccino, an ocean view, and good conversation all at once. ciao.


"sweet like candy to my soul - sweet you rock and sweet you roll..." dmb

Thursday, September 07, 2006

You are what you love, and not what loves you back

All day I thought I was lonely, was wearing it like a weapon, but I realise that
I was just alone. This is the great distinction of my life, the thing that has had me reaching for door-frames as if the world was falling in on only me. This is what has ruined me.

I do not know how to reconcile these sides of me. I feel a dull sense of duty to the secrets I've pressed into people's open palms, ignoring the fact that they are fractions of me, not them. I want to tell all but I have less and less to say. I am writing a notebook's worth of small character sketches, but the book keeps getting smaller because I rip the pages out every other day and promise to start again.
I want to achieve something, prove to myself that I'm better than a drawer full of balled-up notes and mistreated notebooks. I will finish.
I will finish and fix it all.

things I am forgetting:

- how to talk to you
(I tried my hand at equations, explaining myself through maths, but I got stuck between the cosine and 'both sides must be equal'. I have tasted biology on the tip of your tongue and picked your physics out from between my teeth - chemistry was
why I left and how you stayed, a hairbrush and some gum and a messy bed.

My last hope is dear sweet Desdemona, constant Penelope, two ladies with water in their hair and one who threw herself from the battlements. My last hope is blank verse and comfortable iambic pentameter. My last hope is sibilance and the weight
of punctuation.)

- why I cared, and how, and how much
(nothing feels safe. nothing feels safe. nothing feels safe. nothing feels safe. nothing feels safe. nothing feels safe. nothing feels safe. nothing feels safe. nothing feels safe. nothing)

- why I wrote anything, ever
(that's it, that's all. I am no good)

- promises and bathroom floors
(you were smoking me, weren't you? between your yellow fingers. you just inhaled
and exhaled without saying a word)

-[I have always read 'angels' as 'angles' and I think this explains more than anything else could]

* I am not sure who wrote this, ( I hope I did not mess it up too much) but I thought it wonderful. here is the link:
click me


Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

I do not know why I titled this "laughter". Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

nikon d50 slr hand held/windy/focal length: 38.0mm (35mm equivalent: 57mm)/ exposure time: 0.0031 s (1/320)/ aperture: f/8.0 /whitebalance: auto/ metering: matrix.

* on another note - autumn is here! :)

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

A Softness in the Ear

(after a phone conversation)

There are too many hours before dusk,
where one can become mislaid along
the hidden curves of the throat:
a burst
of laughter,
of white space,
of delicate, corporeal vocals;
a counting of the harvest in cultural

rearing. The voice is a lover: a span of
the sensual sun, a nervousness that lies
low in the season, waiting or begging
for release. And the flutter of chest
becomes wet, a way to taste the tongue,
or perhaps a lead that one must pursue

solely. I say this before the rain in hopes
of encore or breadth -
I don’t know why I like it. I just do.

O, if I were an atlas –
a diagram that reveals warm breath on flesh,
I would gather the hum that cascades nicely
from the sweetened lip, sweep it to elite waters,
and drown in what could never be mine.

*just a first draft. :)

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

What friends are for

been a bit busy being in the hospital, but I have been home since yesterday. it was a v trying time. I did receive a wonderful warmth here:

click me

some really great friends. I am appreciate that. the way the members came together like that shows you what true friends are. I will not forget that. anyway, I am ok for the time being. I am dealing with some other things that are so unbelievable, though. and although my heart is weak at the moment, I will not let anyone or anything crush it completely. eh.

*a special thanks to all who called me today... I am still smiling. is odd, on the phone today I noticed that a friend sounds just like one of my best friends. even his laughter. that made me smile. here is a photo of him: (I could of fixed up the photo and removed the spot, but am so sleepy)

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

he graduated med school ahead of me and is in foot/ankle reconstruction. we had a long talk the other night (and I am so bad about staying in contact) and we sorted through our lives and what we had hoped a long time ago would happen - we planned road trips and such, but we both had gotten much too busy. I miss him. I suppose I will call him tomorrow. no - I will and I will be a better friend.

well, it is late and I am tired. sweet dreams to my fellow poets, photographers, and the like. xo

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

Before Prayer

Each night I imagine your hands.
I ignore a November that falls silent on the grass.
Shall I consider? Each night I swallow your darkness,
my chest, a necessity, a firm mattress that hides
your eyes as you crawl through the sheets and up
my spine. This is how we exist.
Each night I set voices to fields that sink
deep into your hands of rosaries, where we are seated
in partnership, where we burn and bone, coaxing
forgotten graves that fall.
They burst into bloom while mouths are still wet
in the soil. Each night I keep vigil beside you
as you rock yourself to sleep.
My wings, your wet pillow. Your tears, my comforter.
Tonight I will pull along the shadows, place
your chest to mine, and somewhere in the distance
a train will sound. The sound will be of riders
returning to loved ones—
it will open our eyes to here and now.
It’s not that we have made history or have turned
a deeper shade of gray. It’s not that we are failing
or clinging to the past. It’s the way the season stares
leafless and white before the churchyard like a trunk
of fleeting memoirs that rattle in the attic before
death—that string of voices,
now frozen in the red of a raven’s throat.

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

Breaking Benjamin

Before you interpret this, I must divulge to you
all that is clandestine: his voice, a garden
always it exists in neat rows, lexis in the lungful
of forget-me- nots, the intricate identifiers such as skin,
accent– flesh, inevitably imitate events that slowly
pull faces as I pass the mirror.
& I spend seasons sleepless on his face, in the silhouette
of his body long after he’s laid it down. I scatter flowers
in breath - a deeper blue in the cherry, where I draw
his chest to a pause, carry him to the scents, each
so delicately decorated in the softness of rivers that utter
devotion. But his mouth is heavy. Indeed, I am speaking
of the tongue, of the nether sea, the vortex
in its garrote - no exit, a void, a lilac snapped shut.
& I cannot deliver. I lift his snowy lids, release the colors
into the sky, where simplicity permeates the air, & his lips
part affectionate, wet. I kiss his throat to pursue a sole
riposte, feel a constriction that tugs my hand, pulls me
back as the night that hangs nervous in the thickets.

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

Wednesday, July 26, 2006

Well deserving

Big congratulations to IBPCommunity member C.E. Chaffin on his publication in today's Philadelphia Inquirer!

Paradigms By C.E. Chaffin

He is such a nice person and although attempts to comment on my blog - my videos and such make the pages load v slowly for some (I know, I know, but I did remove one from the front page the other day). :)

I appreciate him, his blog, and his talent. So congrats -
a fine placement.

Monday, July 24, 2006

random thoughts

I have had pretty close relationships with most of my patients - even had this patient that upsetted easily. when she did this, her family would call my cell and ask me to talk to her. I calmed her down and loved her v much. I now how a patient similar to her; she is in rehab because she fell and is now afraid/or needs assistance to walk. when she needs to get up to walk, they call me from my regular floor - she simply will not let anyone else help her, says that I am the only one who cares.

and I do care, v much, as I am sure others do. I just get so busy (esp during vitals) that I cannot get that extra minute to leave my floor. this made her cry the other day. sometimes I have to become hardened, try not to think of such things, and carry on with what I am in the middle of. when I finally got that extra minute, I found out that she fell again, and found myself in tears. I should of spent more time reassuring her that if she asked another to help - that person would take care of her the way I do. but if I had done so, she would question me, because she in fact did fall.

I need to organize my time better or perhaps be even harder that I try to be. I am tough enough or I thought I was, until today... now I do not know. today is another story that I do not care to share right now. xo

Thursday, July 20, 2006

August antipasto

today was a v long day (no need to detail that). I am in the mood for an august antipasto from Foreign Cinema. hmm... I should add some mediterranean olives to that order.

I just need one of those delivery boys on a bike, a jet plane, and a destination to any white beach that caters to the bluest of seas. oh and one of those cool beach hats! no, scratch the hat - make it a soft lounge chair.

I must mention that the delivery boy is not invited. ;)

Wednesday, July 19, 2006

I guess any establishment could make you wonder

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

a late night note

this evening someone randomly entered the restroom in my flat, bent down, and sniffed michael's catbox. she then turned to me and said "Wow Cher, your catbox doesn't smell!" I think at that point, I stepped out of my own skin, and stood beside myself just to see my own reaction. I looked at her and said, "No, it does not." I then walked into my office and sat down. I have to wonder as I look back at it all - how the heck do I stay sane?


Friday, July 14, 2006

this and that

my friend pj (pjnights) and I talked until 3:30 am on the phone last night. we discussed BoZoO radio and how we both wanted to beat up Rg. ok - not beat up, but we did talk about what a great show they have going on over there. you know, some blogs and/or sites really make you feel good - BoZoO HomeGrown Radio being one. if you get a chance drop by and see what they have going on - Marcel Penn is just one of the great things they have added. BoZoO HomeGrown Radio

we announced the IBPC Poem of the Year! check it out here: The Versifier or read about our latest judge, David Biespiel here: IBPCcongrats and thank you to all poets!

last, but not least, go check out Tuche And Automaton it is a fun place to spend some time - we have some great artists like ann marie eldon, cocaine jesus, scott glassman, and more! ciao.

Thursday, July 13, 2006

Winning Photo

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

Just heard news that my photo (above) had the highest score at USA101's 22nd contest. I am so grateful. I won $1000.00 and I believe the photo on canvas. I had a feeling I had won, but wanted to wait for the administrator's letter.

Thanks to Ry who made me go out and shoot when I was not in the mood and to everyone who voted, and continues to support my work. Camera used was a Nikon D50 SLR, hand held zoom. I hope to continue my love for photography and perhaps make a few people smile while doing so. grazie.

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

These Words Will Never Make Me Famous

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

I have gathered and brought home photographs from places I have been. From San Francisco to New York. In fact, San Francisco is made entirely of memory - photographs of days when my life truly mattered. It is almost laughable at this point to say I have come further than ever – when I feel a sinking at times like stone to sea.

In reality, this city that I lie my head in, this arboretum and garden of unmarked graves is nothing more for me than just limbo, where I fight for air space, but never really breathe. I feel that I definitely belong to an appendage of people that became artists to release some sort of inner language that speaks in tongues, and the only way to describe the feeling is to attempt to put it to word on paper or in a preferred journal.

I have a gift made entirely out of train wrecks and circumstances, but I have not established it, or have initiated only fragments - the remaining delay leaving, shift against bristle, never really willing to tell the prodigy of ‘me’. Not that there is anything to tell, but some may implore to be at variance; some have blisters on the soles of their feet from walking beside me.

Maybe I am extinct, only a creation in my mind, constructed of a softness that falters during the changing season – the harrowing waters that hold chin to seedling; stones and landscapes that can never be found after the photograph burns.

At other times and in other spaces, I am a liar. I do not fabricate much, but I have been known to tell myself a story or two; I fool my effort into oblivion each time my lips refute my surroundings, each time I tell myself of a deeper love story that should never fall short. And after calamity, I carve an alter for a totem pole made from past lovers, fancy the color red over black, and dip the eyes. There above the plot of this city I stand back and respect my work – I close my eyes and imagine a draw between myself and others. I believe that the sky might look down and dry the colors or perhaps blur them with a future rain. I never was one for calling on the names or retrieving paper notes from my backpack, to squall in the goodbyes that grew.

It is possible that this is not lament or a stone that I expect to throw. It is also wise to consider the lengths of bamboo that have covered the path that I once held dear. But to a writer, maybe it means a way of condensing the view, if only for a moment so he or she might feel the tightening of chest to swallow, or on a related note – the passing of an era. In any case I do not weep solely and sometimes not at all. And I do not engage in hysterical laughter, (even though it is said to cleanse the psyche). I do nothing at all, but write, and these words mean nothing to most.


Thursday, June 22, 2006

IBPC Newswire

First - I would like to thank Rg from BZoO HomeGrown Radio, for helping me out with my blog. Check out his site here: BZoO HomeGrown Radio

Second - please take a moment to check out our blog -
The IBPC Newswire: IBPC Newswire

Judy Kronenfeld Teacher, Poet, Poetry Judge - Exclusive Interboard Poetry Community Interview In Association With BZoO Radio and Cloudy Day Art! Recently the InterBoard Poetry Community, an elite group of twenty plus online poetry communities such as Poets.Org, Writer's Block, SplashHall Poetry and The Versifier, had their annual poetry awards.


For you to hear me
my words
thin themselves out, at times,
like the trails of gulls on the shore.

A necklace of bones, a crazed rattle
for your fingers smooth as grapes.

And I look at my words from a distance.
More than mine they are yours.
Like tendrils they climb my ancient suffering.

They climb, like this, inside damp walls.
It is you the guilty one in this blood-wet round.

They are escaping from my dark covert.
You pervade everything, you, pervade everything.

They live, before you, in the solitude you enter,
and are accustomed, more than you, to my sadnesses.

Now I want them to say what I want them to tell you,
for you to hear as I want you to hear me.

The winds of misery may still bring them down.
Hurricanes of dream may still make them tumble.
You attend other voices, in my voice of pain,
Cries, of ancient mouths: blood, of ancient pleas.
Love me. Don’t leave me, friend. Follow me.
Follow me, friend, in this wave of misery.

They go on being miserly, with your love, my words.
You enter everything, you, enter everything.

I make, out of all this, an infinite necklace,
for your white fingers, smooth as grapes.

Wednesday, May 17, 2006

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

I changed the commenting to 'anyone' this morning, because my mum (well she is like a second mum) wanted to leave something, but couldn't because she wasn't a registered user. All I ask is pls no poetry left to the posts. Grazie.

Not a lot new here or I am too tired to think of anything. I am guest poet over at UV's site and I appreciate that. If you'd like to check that out, the link is on the right. Other than that, I want to crawl back to bed this morning - as I mentioned, I am extremely sleepy.

I need to drop my camera off to get it cleaned, so not too many photos for a few days. But here is a shot I took in Carmel, Ca. I hope you enjoy it. Ciao!

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

Thursday, May 11, 2006

Scattered Notes Along Highway 81

You may take what you need from me—
I only enhance being a part of you.
And I drive from east to south, the flat of high-
way stretching through fields, towns, and the
darkening cities that pass.

I open the window—my heart and movements
vague: I am moving too fast to remember.
And oh, the ache beneath white breast—
at least a dozen shards sever flesh.

Because of you, they impel like hooks in
the mouths of swollen fish—what I have,
they take, leave naught to simmer in summer
sun. A ciascuno il suo.

I pull to the side, tear at my dress—
oh, the thought of you along my hemline:
imagining lessons learned only in dark places,
drives a woman to slave. I want you wet, an
open door, and between ankle and mouth,
I will seek pleasure beyond pain.

I stand in stillness, morning as far as the sea—
fresh fruit on my tongue as if I have already
had what is mine, as if we were not separated
by time nor season. My body rests against
the night, one hand gripping forever.

The breaths I have taken in your absence,
stolen from your palm, remain
straight-faced as I stare into nothingness.

And I want you to know that each second
that passes, my fingers grow tired of exploration,
require your slow, steady hand for guidance.

I want to know your scent, the churches that went
to flame knowing of the heat, the women before
me that fell into the fire—that layer of your
thigh, insatiable.

I must begin my journey again, rise from this
place, make my way to you. I must drive, I will
not eat, not cease this longing to be beside such
a man, a craving that will not cease upon my
cheek—it fashions resolve to hollow.

I am yours and I will slip myself into the soreness
of your chest—calming the split that I caused many
months ago— if only I can swallow the hours that
press, if only I might finish what I have started.

Draft II (will fix the structure later)

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

Spring is here and colors are taking shape everywhere you turn. Today I must of passed 300 tulips, just on my way to run errands. Such a lovely scene. I hope everyone is enjoying the season.

I have been so backed up in my email and messages - sorry for that. I plan on taking Saturday morning and writing everyone back. :)

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

That is a photo I took in the Poconos - such beautiful creatures.

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

Friday, April 21, 2006

preghiera serale

[ a small pleasure of birds, (preghiera serale) ]

I'm suddenly older
I mean, of course, how wily silence and nothing else
has happened. Like everyone else, I have only a first
few scattered thoughts out there in front of me
so starkly, wanting, to soften beyond the heart's
invisible, never obvious, reaches. I think of bedsheets
not quite warm, I think tables full of dirty dishes,
I think my legs are tree trunks sunk in grass
each time my heart is broken. Behind the grocery store
there's a mountain of bruised peaches. Slovenly present
with evening upon it. Bones, I feel my bones. You said
I have vanished under fingers, sublimated, and I've lost
a scene set in brooklyn, hours ago, when I fell asleep
and started to dream. There were distant sirens, drifting
like leaves through the streets I don't know the names of.
Suitably I might have asked you for a glass of water. You'd say,
the future of rain is river. But tonight the rivers are black.
I think entrapment comes up as a metaphor. We've never met.
Still, there is a prayer, like the night, it whispers
through the poplars, it is the color of my throat:
we love & we love & we love & we love & we love
but it turns out there’s nothing much to say
or translate into italian at the end.
* * * * *

Wednesday, April 19, 2006

how i

[ how i love you... ]

some moments, increasingly,
 all sorts of,
     in    a

(lungs) drowned in the little room
with tears a night field.

are can: to make unbearable
   wishing we are we can; and, any turn,
   any any turn, this here, the as grassy
 as quiet,
       the hours in the sea

the poem was cloud, an impossible sing

pulled under unseen being some
 moments wishing sitting together
have like, all sense
       pulled under flat, pulled under
    under, again, some moments, pulled

irrational, even irrational
    breathed windows, most
 a blush. whole thing     forgive (me)

again but your absence
suffocates      a lacey turned little
body putting my mind to room, silently

   hearing your eyes
in the photograph, at the ceiling
 even kissing you up to your chin

your hum is flung from a tuning for –
tulip in mis shapen dark, flickering after

inconsiderable morning. to the whirr of daft
up forced the nigh
     a little her to hand, the ah ah of room burst light
always i scream
       i imagine lips
    lips enough, lips touch
   candles your all      always i imagine
to eat out of your
    empty hands. of your mouth, quietly, wearil

to make you feel madly        could is i think
much, anyway, i stand very still.

i will unveil you, passively, in the breathing,
     come, a long pause

Tuesday, April 18, 2006

One of my favorite places to shoot

Image hosting by Photobucket

Wednesday, April 12, 2006


O lover,
O sweet boy -
I sit beside myself for hours, tremulous,
words or breath, moist, palms open as if
to say "I am yours."

I think of you when I see
Khan 's painting — a woman, a man,
her hair twisted in his hand, lilies strewn
skillfully across
a marble floor.

'The Kiss' either beneath the window
or against the wall—
it does not
your tongue slips and I col lapse,
taste confection on the wire.

The flat of my belly, dark hair, poised lip,
and finger— ex posed,
for you.

Seated now, along the rail, I shift, bend,
open, like a river to sea and I oh, oh,
the look in your eyes,
the ache of your hand—
I am seamless, sweetened with
each new touch.

Nails shape your back in red, map out where
we have been -
a fetish — dramatic pierce,
a maddened
swept in a moment, like O'Hara or perhaps
the way Neruda might after a night of
how a woman taught him devotion in spring,
left his hand
ashen against paper.

For you, my dress on the chair,
shadowed in the night, movements, soft,
beneath the crest of your body.
I am brilliant, a silhouette on the backdrop of
Italy, where your storm sweeps me to reverie,
where I am stret ched,

like winter snow.

You brush a curl from my
cheek— your fingers tremble. I could lose
myself now,

become adrift in your thoughts.
I could escape the heated air, the scent of flesh,
the bloom
of beauty before me,

to run toward the open sea, where I would
sink transparent on the sand, where my will is no
longer my own.

And as dawn arrives, night slips out
—left are two lovers inside a painting, quiet on
canvas, exhausted and in love.

Draft II

Photos I took in b&w

The Meaning of True Love

Being a photographer, this video holds a place in my heart - brings tears to my eyes. Please push play. Nite. xo

Sunday, April 09, 2006

Sad Patrol - Metallica

Ever since I can remember I have liked 'Sad But True' by Metallica. I always sang it loudly and confident. I esp loved the 'Sad Patrol' part! I thought it was
very creative. :)

Yesterday I find that it is not 'sad patrol' but, 'Sad but true'. I actually thought it was called 'Sad Patrol' as well. Eh - what do I know.

So, it came on today while out shooting and off I went... "I'm your eyes when you must steal, I’m your pain when you can’t feel... sad patrol."

I like it better that way. ;)


I get a lot of traffic here each day - from Canada to Australia, even further. Perhaps, I should ditch the whole chicken story, yea?

Image hosting by Photobucket

As if By Sea

O love, speak to me—
should we end as quickly as we

I slip past your lips tonight, find myself
inside flesh and each second, I witness
you for the first time.

And I know now that it will not be you
who catches my fall: there is nothing
connecting us anymore, but space.

For a moment, I rest in the deep of
your throat— beautiful and low, I pull
each breath with a stern finger,

voice impelling from your chest—
nothing pushing nothing [nothing].

And there is no frame to this leg room,
no fervor free of reluctance—
I wish
you were really here.

A plea is not enough—you are built like
stone, these two hands cannot get past
the water that rises, splits words

to a scatter—soon it will be against the
nape, its salt thickening my own tongue
to a silence.

-not about anything in general. xo

Saturday, April 08, 2006

Carmel, Ca

This was taken in Carmel - such a lovely place to be.

Image hosting by Photobucket

Friday, April 07, 2006

Creep in the comedian's eye

I was looking for a photograph on Google to go with Radiohead's "Creep' for something over at Live Digital and ran across a photo of this guy crossing the street. The title of this photo was, "Some Creep"— I had to giggle, but felt bad—here was this guy just stolling along and he gets tagged with a name, like 'Creep'...he had no idea.

Reminds me of some comedy show like Frasier (sp?) or Jerry Seinfeld. (Something they might say?) Shrug. I never got into either show until the re-runs began, I think. Well, I did see Jerry's last episode (or partly). I remember coming home from work and Fraiser was on... it was such a funny episode! Fell in love with it then and there. Not to be mean, but Jerry seemed like he could not act well or like he was on stage. I dunno. Rosanne acts the same way, I think, yea?

It is odd how some things make you laugh...

I wonder, "If I ever did a comedy show..." but I suppose it has all been pretty much done.

On a side note---I have got to give that Soup guy a try. (He has a real place in N.Y..)

Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys the week. Ciao.

Wednesday, April 05, 2006


Just a questionnaire I came across.

1. I am 5ft 7 inches

2. I hate big jewelry
3. I feel loved more than unloved

4. I love chocolate - mounds are my favorites
5. I like peanut butter & mayo sandwiches- wait,

not mayo (would be so sick) miracle whip :) Actually,
I rarely eat them, but thay are very good.
6. I love Yankee Candle Co.
7. I love the smell of fresh cut grass in summer
8. I love watching the clouds pass by
9. I believe everyone has a good side

10. I think everyone can be anything they'd like in life
11. I feel rushed 99% of the time

12. I hate messes
13. I miss my grandfather
14. I love hair products - esp Biolage
15. I make too many typos
16. I can rarely make up my mind. No I can.

No - I really cannot. Can I?
17. I have a huge shoe collection
18. I want a home beside the sea
19. I love flower gardens
20. I love to write poetry and prose
21. I like having people close to me
22. I love a good sense of humor
23. I dont wet the bed
24. I dislike liver and most fried foods
25. I like a guy with a tattoo
26. I love romance and spontaneity, like a kiss

or warm hug without warning
27. I believe you should be able to talk about

anything with your partner
28. I'm not afraid of needles
29. I dislike the scent of blood
30. I love Autumn
31. I enjoy neruda, petrarca, sullivan, noto, gordon, and sobin
32. I enjoy opera
33. My favorite book is The Mouse and the Motorcycle
34. I love salads with cottage cheese on top
35. I love San Francisco Music Box Co.
36. I dislike some super, tiny dogs with silly bows
37. I want my man to be my equal, nothing more,

nothing less
38. I read "Are you there, God? It's me, Margaret."
39. I am a good cook
40. I have no favorite color
41. I listen to ocean sounds on CD
42. I love Spring
43. I miss my familia

44. I do not like mean people
45.I love laughter
46. I like photography

47. It is hard for me to trust
48. I have never had short hair

49. My cats are named Michael & Christopher
50. Sometimes I speak without thinking
51. I do the wrong things a lot
52. I once broke my wrist hitting a palm tree
53. My favorite scents are coconut/lime & lavender
54. I love Neruda (again)
55. I am bad about keeping in touch
56. I let things get to me
57. I love Starbuck's Caramel Machiatto
58. I dislike people to chew gum open-mouthed
59. I dream about quiet things
60. I am afraid of losing people
61. I like to swim and crash waves
62. I used to be track captain in school
63. I used to cheer and did most student activities,

like student council etc
64. I love San Francisco. No - I LOVE San Francisco!

65. I miss someone right now
66. I dislike someone right now
67. I love lilies
68. I love N.Y. in the fall
69. I play keyboards
70. I have been published for photography and poetry
71. I sometimes dislike myself
72. I love the ocean air
73. I love chocolate milk, but cannot drink plain

white in a glass
74. I find I drag my feet
75. I like being outside
76. I have too many books I haven't read
77. I type with my left hand, but am right handed
78. I now realize what true friendship can be

79. I love the city
80. I dislike sugared gum
81. I wish I was better to myself

82. I own a telescope
83. I love going for drives
84. I love Godsmack to Darren Hayes
85. I love kickboxing
86. I'm easily pleased
87. I don't like people who scream
88. Looks do not matter
89. I dislike girls who dress sleezy
90. I love the colors of a sunset
91. I hate to dust
92. I have 1000 products in my bathroom
93. I have too many shampoos in the shower
94. I love tomato soup
95. I love to dance
96. I make my cats talk
97. My cats think I am nuts
98. I love to volunteer
99. My blood sugar is high and low at times
100. I like Baily's, but rarely drink
101. I love piano
102. I love rain storms
103. Age is just a number
104. I can be bratty
105. I could not live w/o q-tips

Looks fade. In 50 yrs from now - if I still look

lovely to my partner - he is the one for me.



Tuesday, April 04, 2006

Daylight fades—almost aqueous as we plan
an evening to honor hands, to die in, expose
ourselves, distance to love.

The sequence of breath: a sole strength
un- tethered, softened as it seeks harvest
that swells— fertile beneath the air.

And it is written on the map—white breast
in the palm, a string of moisture on the brow,
tongues that thicken to please.

It is certain, a void that becomes, in turn,
plentiful—the taste and scent of nectar
still sweet on the lip.

Monday, April 03, 2006

Saturday, April 01, 2006

First pomodoro and garlic followed by
peppers - then,
in a string-of-events,
the room lit up with summered
scents of pasta and sauce: aromas
that filled nostrils, lingered sweetly
on my dress.

The gifts that grew in mother's garden;
pleasures I sampled with snips
of provolone.

She sat me down, taught me
tradition, prepared
with warm hands and love.

She pulled fresh flowers to cool
the evening: a touch of berry and vine,
spread linen, delicate, and called
us one by one.

We washed our faces in gratitude as
the sound of papa at the end of labor,
worn-out and empty, filled the door.


O lover,
O sweet boy -I sit beside myself for hours, tremulous,
words or breath, moist, palms open as if
to say "I am yours."

And I think of you when I see
Khan 's painting — a woman, a man,
her hair twisted in his hand, lilies strewn
skillfully across
a marble floor.

'The Kiss' either beneath the window
or against the wall—
it does not
your tongue slips and I col lapse,
taste confection on the wire.

The flat of my belly, dark hair, poised lip,
and finger— ex posed,
for you.

Seated now, along the rail, I shift, bend,
open, like a river to sea and I oh, oh,
the look in your eyes,
the ache of your hand—
I am seamless, sweetened with
each new touch.

Nails shape your back in red, map out where
we have been -
a fetish — dramatic pierce,
a maddened
swept in a moment, like O'Hara or perhaps
the way Neruda might after a night of
how a woman taught him devotion in spring,
left his hand
ashen against paper.

For you, my dress on the chair,
shadowed in the night, movements, soft,
beneath the crest of your body.
I am brilliant, a silhouette on the backdrop of
Italy, where your storm sweeps me to reverie,
where I am stret ched,

like winter snow.

You brush a curl from my
cheek— your fingers tremble. I could lose
myself now,

become adrift in your thoughts.
I could escape the heated air, the scent of flesh,
the bloom
of beauty before me,

to run toward the open sea, where I would
sink transparent on the sand, but my will is no
longer my own.

And as dawn arrives, night slips out
—left are two lovers inside a painting, quiet on
canvas, exhausted and in love.

Friday, March 31, 2006

One of my favorite shots

Image hosting by Photobucket

This is one of my favorite - it just seems so serene. I can't explain it.

The Consequences of Inclination

I have seen it drive women to madness
—a slow tightening of the thighs
as definite as winter chill—the breeze
deep-seated, fixed like sea to sand.

And it is beside you, inside you, all season:
something stirs in the air.

Voices, like petals pulled from their stems:
"He loves me." It is enough.

It is enough—
beneath a current, where stones lie silent,
where breath becomes still within minutes.

We say yes, yes, yes to it all – only to linger
on eastern edges, like game pieces: each
rapt to see where the other may go—so
still at times, we appear to be the next
period as it awaits return.

Long ago, I walked this path—body depleted,
nerves on the ache of splinter. And at the
close of it all, I found nothing.
[I found nothing.]

Chest split in the bitter fist of December,
left to solidify in its grasp—I remained there
forever it seemed: bruised shins, hair in my
hands, and one black boot on the floor.

Wednesday, March 29, 2006

What is Hot in 2006

Is hot, yea?

Image hosting by Photobucket

Image hosting by Photobucket

-If only I could find a man like that! ;)

Tuesday, March 28, 2006

"...though a block away you feel distant the mere presence changes everything like a chemical dropped on paper and all thoughts disappear in a strange quiet excitement I am sure of nothing but this, intensified by breathing"
- O'Hara

My "To Do" List for Tuesday, March 28th 2006

1.Holler random numbers while someone is counting.
2.Push all the flat Lego pieces together tightly.
3.Wear a special hip holster for my remote control.
(just might annoy?)
4.Signal that a conversation is over by clamping my
hands over ears.
5.Check out a novel from the library and write the

surprise ending on page one.
6.Repeat the following conversation a dozen times:
"Do you hear that?" "What?" "Never mind, it's gone now."

And I have decided that I will not indulge in maniacal laughter. When so occupied, it is easy to miss unexpected developments that a more attentive individual could adjust to accordingly.


Thursday, March 23, 2006

Well, Spring is here? Or perhaps it is on its way - I don't know, but I truly long for it.

Image hosting by Photobucket

Monday, March 20, 2006

love on me, this love, love on me, this love, love -
-Gigi D'Agostino

To listen to it on my playlist click below:

Image hosting by Photobucket

Sunday, March 19, 2006

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

I know well the shape of admiration you express
and poetry of hunger spread thick against paper
walls, where we are silhouettes: the soft of
memory —

nights when the moon would drive the lamps out,
a thin hush over our flesh— we felt it then as it
quickened along the vine. And in the dark,

we'd lower our voices and touch in the last hours
before dawn. Each stroke a maddening of sorts
left to linger, like words or warm breath in the air.

Such things come easy with the steady hand.
And even if it were all a dream, may I sleep til

Spring, to rise again through the flames.

Monday, March 13, 2006

Random thoughts

I am changing for the better I think. Everything that touches or passes me - seems utterly and perfectly beautiful. The sky, voices, words, letters, photographs, fruit, scents, and season. Oh, how I want to walk barefoot in the fields of flowers as they become fragrant in Spring.

I long for cotton dresses in subtle hues, scents of lavender on my wrist, and a sun that warms even the smallest of curl on the cheek. I am abundant with thoughts of a changing season. What I would not do for a garden of lily and rose.

And I plan to take time to pause each moment that I can. Seasons such as Spring pass much too quickly - I do not want to miss a thing.

Image hosting by Photobucket

Image hosting by Photobucket

I know I said that this year was going to be the best - so when does it begin? I must have been in a fog. Days pass and I imagine all the things I could be doing, but never do. If I could change one thing about myself it would be my mind: it never does what I really want. ;)

Image hosting by Photobucket


Template by