honest bio

X lives with her husband and two kids in a house that is bit bigger than their needs, which they share with their cat and the creatures he hasn’t yet managed to kill. X has a job she likes and does well enough to be appreciated without making a fuss.
X has done lot of different and some unexpected things but never long enough or well enough to be exceptional at any of them, and has thus not been bestowed any awards or distnctions, though she has applied and coped decently with numerous rejections.
She avoids conflict as it usually leaves her in a dimished position, so she swallows back globs of anger and frustration, and bile sometimes rises to make her jokes and smiles too bitter to be liked by most people.
She laughs loud and sings softly under her breath, and her most significant and intense experiences have been mostly in her head. Lately she has been battling the loss of expectation and desire but still fondles hope like a smooth pebble in her pocket before it too is lost. X is extraordinarily ordinary and worth little mention but a bio is customary and as she is usually just bypassed when she tries to stand purposefully apart, she acquiesced this time.

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this jester’s end

I told you of thorns
in my side
and pebbles in my shoe
of flakes slowly falling
dithering my views
of lines crossing
coin tossing
the names for snow
just to show
I had one for you
and all those lies
just to deny
rocks’ molten birth
and all you were worth

I drew up pictures
dissected views
offered comments on the news
I sang of pains
and gains and losses
posted signs
on paper crosses
set afloat to reach you

then i sat
and quietly yearned
to know of what
you may have learned
or simply that you’d heard
in my words
something to stir in you
some wonder or just
raise you from your slumber
and then one day
to my dismay
you finally came on out to say–
thank you for all that you gave
now please kindly go away

the big picture

Yes, I see
the big picture
The one
with commitments
Arching over
every horizon
And goals thickening
in the sky
But it doesn’t sustain
my focus
Like the details
that poke through the fog–
The feel of the back of your neck
against the palm of my hand
The nuance in colour
between your skin and your lips
The inflection of your voice
thickening with intent
The arch of your eyebrows
awaiting an answer
you may not like
And your eyes flashing
at a challenge–
I let my mind trip
and my heart rip
upon these protrusions
before they too fade
into the big picture

originally posted 17.12.2015

uninevitable

so much is lost
to wrong time and place
too soon
too late
and parallels
that can never touch
regardless
of proximity
or mutual
understanding

here I am

I’m
stealing
garbage from
your dumpster
finding less
and
less
each day
feeding off scraps
of moments
discarded
for so long now
I’m thinning
in substance
and resolve
It must be why
you barely notice me
anymore

hedges

I want to float on the lake
and hear the city buzz by
instead of this fly
trapped in my car
We’ve both made a wrong turn
this time

In my brain
I rearrange
the signs to spell benign
though I’m inclined
to engage in acts
more outrageous
than partially blinding myself

I pull down the visor against
the light of insight
begrudging better judgement
I think of you in small doses
half of a half of a half
to the impossible measure
where a breath’s breadth
from the treasure
I’ll lunge fully into you
and again misconstrue
all your eyes implored
until I’m lost once more

And if only my wages
were as high as the hedges
the man in the Hendrix shirt trims
Then I’d know how to fix
this mess I’m in
Instead I wonder why the rich
have streets with no sidewalks or names
And if my accent is as lame
as the woman on my phone
directing me home
when I’d rather stay lost just the same

stasis

Living is what I do
When I’m not thinking of you
I’m often in stasis these days
The sun warms my shoulders
Into feeling less old than
My bark-like skin declares

I spend my days exposed
Like light can appease thirst
And bring life to dried dirt
But it won’t
And I’m left fiddling
With thoughts too belittling
Crumbling last year’s leaves

Branch bared and limb cracked
Waiting for my spine to snap
I keep twisting
Reaching back
To rake up debris from the past
And find a match to light it
Just to keep warm through the night

outlines

A harmless thrill
soon overspilled
The stain we hide
and secretly reframe
calling it found art
Still we are compelled
every so often to hover
and read its shape
for omens or meaning
But it only foretells
how time and use
will meld it into the fabric
of the stories we will weave
to cover it
And no one will know
how it shaped them
And how it changed us

denouement 

Where wonder reigned
habit remains
and memory’s stained
with melodic refrains
dissolved to static
attractions now
only distractions
unworthy of abstraction
and words just
stochastic noise

Still, I stand poised
against a slow demise
holding out for a surprise
ending

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