stepping stones

i step up to the morning

as if i were stepping up to the plate, but

i have never been good at sports

been good at some things, but i don’t

quite remember them now

so i step up to the morning- i will begin either way

i will remember i will

and still i will go barefoot

and i will make a space and a time

to howl

at the moon-

for what else is life good for if not for

this

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learning to trust poetry again

it is not screaming beneath my skin
it squirms
the voice muffled
i catch myself asking
what was that
but nothing
and then more squirming
when i was younger
it would have spewed poetry
but she doesn’t trust that
as a mode of communication anymore
just something pretty that other people do
poetry can make a mask
for the things you want to
voice but don’t have the
courage-heart-balls-eggs- for
but still she squirms
in muffled silence
what do you want

but nothing

more trips down the lane

White Horse Theory III- 1997

and i don’t need your tan horse to save soul
my weak little fainting damsel of a me
and I don’t care what color you are wonder boy
personally i like green
I have my own castle of sorts
and I was sleeping just fine
until
I was
interrupted
and I don’t want your horse at all
I’ve got two feet— they work
and if you are going my way
we could walk together
you could visit
But I don’t need the fancy entourage
of princely gifts o’ crap
Its a lovely day for a walk in the rain
you need nothing but a you
to save your soul I will take care of mine
and if you care I seem to have lost my slipper
so we could go for a walk
barefoot in the rain…

Looking Back at my White Horse Theory

White Horse Theory II- 1997

so here I am
just here among other places
waiting for that guy
on the white horse to
liberate me from
women’s lib by being
chivalrous or was that
sexually harassing
well it depends if he
comes bearing gifts
says the girl on the left
Brain pumped full of happy ending
and why always a Prince
Ah… the money, jewels, white horses
gifts one must be rich for happy endings
NO
well liberate me further
come to me on foot bearing your heart
that could be chivalrous and non-harrasing
well it depends on how you look at me
and then the weather
lets make it depend on the weather
Could it Be Simply a Weather Issue?
Oh dear… complications
and where are the opportunities?
asleep in the forest, behind castle walls,
lost in cinders
and what about that damn horse
what if it is tan
what if the shoe does not fit
Obliterate me further
liberate me further

Syndicated Copy written Happy Endings
Blue Light Specials on sand slippers
and me
sitting here among other places

I will find my happy ending
But not here

Learning Early

Learning Early- 1998

She’s learning her mode of transportation early
in the playground
riding around on a broom.
They’ll curse you for this later.
She’s got no idea.

But in this part of the story she
plays not the fairy princess
she plays not the winch in rags
turned to riches
Why sleep when one could be building
a house made of sugar
to taunt the Unsuspecting
Charmings into the sugar coated ginger bread door

Learn early honey Perfect the Broom
and take to the sky
you’ll never hear the curses
From so High above Riding your broom
and your spell of Indifference
draped across your back
Don’t Forget the Spell
to keep you from melting in Rain
and write me when you
Get onto your pedestal
we’ll do lunch
while the masses scream below.

and so it goes…

Most of the day involved me and some blahs… looks like I should take my own advice and make some tea. This morning, however, was not blah… I played with paint- one of my favorite things.
I started these pieces yesterday and continued working on them today. It was much of the fun.
First, I would like to introduce you to Little Blue Guy. He is a creature I have been playing with for some time and he has a fondness for birds- as some of you may already know.

blue guy

Then I would like you to meet Thing Number 1- for Thing a Day. She is not so- and believes that she requires no explanation.

Not So

And last, but not least- Come to me. She is inspired by one of my White Horse Poems.

Come to me…

I hope that you had a loverly day- with no blahs- and if there were blahs join me for a cup of tea.

The ever enchanting sand slipper

Glass Slippers for the Cause- 1998
I came to you neatly packaged…
wrapped — trapped all boxed up
Green Ribbon to Garnish all of my
un—well put together
Thoughts—–
Pumped full of happy endings
and a sparkle in my eye
Dreaming of the Educational Wonderland
I was about to enter
where learning would be the very glass
of my slipper that would guide me into the
Perfect Dream you sell so well—
you taught me the glass was only sand
put together in a cruel enough fashion
to cut my feet– liberated– I’d prefer to
go Barefoot — I’d prefer to go naked ——
all you offer me — Is the Emperor’s New Clothes
which look really appealing on paper But is revealed
to physically mean Nothing— The Emperor’s New Degree
and to accompany this beautiful ensemble
we have some lovely slippers But watch your step
They’re sharp in places.

I ripped myself open–only to watch myself fall out
onto the street My Morality my un–well put together thoughts
Falling onto the Pavement Slipping into
the Gutter– Where we all are — Or so says Oscar
But I lost sight of the stars—-
Deciphering you Brand of Understanding and Intellect–
It means nothing to me– But you’ll only look at
the paper it’s Printed on — Sending me out to teach
your lies– Selling more Glass Slippers for the Cause
One Size Fits– All– Cinderella and Her Sisters
would disagree with that— But don’t use logic here
It won’t fit– But that shoe will Just keep trying honey
and pay no attention to the man Behind
the Curtain
Everything is all right
and you’ll get that shoe to fit

Glass Slippers for the Cause- 2003
wrapped—trapped and all boxed up
for you – again
I get here only to realize
I—am—that’s it- me
I am selling fucking glass slippers
for the cause
They don’t fit you either—well
Damn honey try harder- it’s on my agenda today
and it happens to be a standard…
Whose standards am I pimping anyway?
My own seem to have been tossed out –
wrapped trapped
and boxed on their way out the door
I wanted it to be different
but we are just shoving people into different shoes
they are still made of glass
they still cut the feet
you are still better off barefoot
So I prepare to dismount my tan horse
for even I can’t walk in these shoes
and I stand on the side of the road
thumb in air
I am done with my emperor’s degree
I am done with sand slippers
I am done and crispy about the edges
I can’t sell shoes anymore
I can’t sell what I never
believed in to start with
I am done with your glass slippers
and I am done with your cause

Selling Slippers for the Cause

The shoe– still –does not fit
and here I am — Here
just here, amoung other places
selling glass slippers for the cause

One size fits all
Amazingly enough
You still shout the Mantra
from the roof tops and me
I am doing the same

Everything is all right– all good–
You’re fine– You’re fine
If you don’t start screaming
You will never know the difference

And neither will I.

-2002

Early thoughts on Sand Slippers III

White Horse Theory Part IV- 1997

Hello you! Yes, you. I was standing here in DISTRESS and well, being a chick and all I was wondering, questioning, could you put on some armor and come down from your tower for a moment and humor me?

I really don’t ask much. Some simple dragon slaying. Tiny, harmless, mind dragons really and well normally I would tell you to let me handle it, but if you could just once maybe twice save me from myself. I don’t care if the slipper of sand fits; I will walk in it, or you don’t have to bring that even. Just some armor, some safety. Please, I don’t care if, helmets do get in the way I just need some of your grace to ride on for a moment… and… Is that all I want? SAFETY… stop you wimp— shine on armor. Well, I have my own. Assembly required. And it has come to this. Me trying to find some hair to throw down– anything and say hello. Please, I know you have armor. Just use it. Come down from your tower and help me with mine. You must want to the script called for it.

You see… I started out standing on this pedestal. I built for myself. It was abhoridly beautiful and as I went I started climbing down to the true place of my beginning. Now, on hands and knees, weak in my own way, begging– you can’t see me, but this is where we both began.

So maybe it is not the armor I want. Helmets do get in the way. The safety of understanding… coaxing you (trying) out of your tower; leaning to far out of my element, out of my dome like, realistically fake bubble world.

But I don’t care at this point reason [I cling to] has never done more than become one of my largest dragons and no knight can defeat it; for most of the time I find myself fighting against you for it [for me i used to think]. Now it has become a voracious monster of my own making.

I turn to the door to run… I can’t so now I ask for help; listening to my cat in shining armor cry in her (my) defense. I promise to fight on my own side this time. If you could trust that more than I do the belief would take hold. I am not asking anymore. I am just sitting in the rain. The water washes drips down from hair– to eyelashes– then cheeks. I could do this, I am not weak, only tired of fighting myself and anyone who dares to knock on the castle doors.

Pound! I am no Princess! I am no Princess… I am simply a me with pieces of everything barging in at every breath. Only pieces, pieces and I want wholes, alls, everything, oceans endless. Not forever, not eternity. The Infinite is not to be gift wrapped and waiting for me at my door. For we are everything and everything else is us. Endless that is the infinity; we are the pieces.

I am no Princess! That is my reply, I am no Princess.

Early thoughts on Sand Slippers II

White Horse Theory Part II- 1997

And I don’t need your tan horse to save my soul! My weak, little, fainting damsel of a me. And I don’t care what color you are wonder boy. Personally, I like green. I have my own castle of sorts and I was sleeping just fine until I was interrupted. I don’t want your horse, damn it. I’ve got two feet– they work.

And if you are going my way… we could walk together. You could visit, but I don’t need the fancy entourage of princely gifts o’ crap. It’s a lovely day for a walk in the rain. You need nothing but a you to save your soul. I will take care of mine. If you care… I seem to have lost my slipper. So we could go for a walk –barefoot- in the rain.