Naked Apes: Updates:
~ It is officially December, and my favorite time of year.
~ We have a real christmas tree. I do not believe in fake ones in my living room. [that is not an update, simply fact.]
~ We have wrapped presents under said tree.
~ I've mailed Tommy's christmas present, I kind of lied about the contents, and stupidly wrote "merry christmas" on the outside. Now all the Argentines know it has presents in it. So we'll just assume another lovely person in Argentina is getting kid drawings and other such necessities. ooops?
~ Malls/stores are fantastic places to render service : )
~ I've been dreaming a lot lately, so far nothing particularly good, but it makes for more journal entries.
~ I've learned that being greedy with the redbox is a fast way to lose money.
and urges to purchase and eat ice-cream cones should always be heeded : ) who cares if it's dinner time?
~ I've discovered in the last three days that I really like Ingrid Michaelson.
~ I just finished washing the insides of all the windows in our nook, kitchen, dining room, living room, and entrance.
~ I would have washed the outsides of them too, but it's 31˚ and I was nervous it would freeze + it got dark.
~ I learned that using windex and newspapers to wash windows is a great idea, but it turns your fingers and your mothers yellow rubber gloves black. So don't touch the walls, sinks, or curtains around the windows, or you'll leave a grey spotted trail. like me : )
~ I treated myself to dinner and dessert and light-seeing and a movie on friday because December 4th is one of my favorite days of the year.
~ and light blue, is not the clothing color of the season.
However it is the color of my cousins wedding that I will be a bridesmaid at in 11 days.
wearing something appropriate and light blue that I shall discover before then : )
Merry Christmas
poetry from the past two months:
-----
that shampoo bottle dripped to empty in her wet hand
seconds before she tossed it at the garbage and missed.
minutes before she gave up and yanked my old towel from the rack.
hours before that shampoo residue dried to its edges.
days before she packed every item she could call her own, and left me.
weeks before I found it in the middle of the bathroom floor
having stepped on it for the hundredth time
finally picking up my last piece of her
tossing it at the garbage
and missing.
-----
why is it that the older i get, the more i want to do
nothing.
just climb in bed and begin to sleep
hibernating like a west european hedgehog.
waiting for spring or energy or someone
to tell me I'm old, I don't have to work anymore.
why is it that i'm only 20
and i'm looking forward to retiring
forever.
------
the n stands for noble
dear n. mailman
i understand that this is just your occupation
a way to pay your own bills that call at your own box
these are just white or brown, square items,
directing you to yet another delivery point
another cold sorting in your shivering, squat vehicle
they've grown stale over your days,
letters, pamphlets, dirty magazines or vogue;
grown meaningless as someone else's
fingernail clippings.
You don't know me.
But those small pieces are clippings
of my love,
my joy.
the cargo you carry is priceless
to me.
so please understand the inked papers you carry
are more precious than securing the noon shift for life.
and i'm trusting you greatly to
carry them safely, in your hands
to mine.
-c.m.
------
"sore throats are like
bandaids with holes in them
or ones that don't stick."
-woebegone brother
----
wouldn't it be convenient if we didn't have to pee whenever
the thought entered our minds wouldn't
it be convenient if we just had to sit and
never do menial things again wouldn't
it be less exciting to not need to
move and live and take care of
important things like
peeing.
-----
staring down through stella lane
catching wreaths and trees alight
glistening asphalt, remembering rain,
i didn't think we'd meet today.
though in my mind our paths could cross
my blundering would break our chain,
delicate our secrecy, for we shan't speak
of lovers love, of us for us.
i thought i'd greet this fourth alone
whisper i'd not forgot or lost my love
leave you aligned, a star hung straight,
i'd love you from this lane.
but then there you were not so far
saying words i'm starved to hear
not to me, but in your way,
so i would know you'll meet me there.
-------
my eyes are blue
deep like the northern oceans
thrashing under an angry charcoal sky
they've each a burning core of ebony
melting beneath silver balls of glistening note
to some they say they know something.
maybe.
but mostly they are greedy taking in
and taking up light through gazes
towards golden expectation.
my lips are no good.
unskilled and flawful
they've no idea how to weave out the stories
captured by mind, heart and perception.
stumbling daily on ill-conceived phrases
they wish to resign their post entirely
lost in their graceless beginning
and well aware of more qualified pieces.
my fingers are crooked
only freckled twice,
but bent on experience
and in love with bearing pens,
brushes, pencils.
they know their purpose
and rise to stumble and rise again.
confident enough to continue,
young enough to glimpse their naivete
sturdy with the strength of grasping on.
my feet are imbalanced
but have learned to get along.
they are not used to kicking or gliding
continuing to walk and run up mountains of stairways
certain that carrying forward
needs moments of
standing still.
naturally obliging.
my body works
better than many, although
it is short and small and weaker than others
made of smoothed lumps of clay.
muscles hiding undefined and stubborn.
It deserves harder work and a straighter stance
for being so good and keeping me
from doctors doors,
and safeway pills.
my mind runs more than my legs
in circles, or down ideas winding
questions burning it fuel for always
even in my dreams it brims past bounds
imagining itself everywhere and never seeing
everything it wants to know and hold and keep.
at times it escapes me,
and perhaps before my body is through,
it will leap out a window on a breeze
to catch leave of me crazy.
my heart is best.
it keeps me wise.
soaks in years I haven't lived
sees with eyes more than blue.
my heart is good even in times
when my head hasn't caught up.
making good it intends to do
drawing in people, stop signs, city lights, to keep away
from lonely realizations of being a piece in three
worlds.
but it hides the best of every thing.
Who's me?
------
[poetry slam f.h.e.]
Jeffrey Stewart Lemon
makes you think of citrus yellow,
sour candies, british butlers, fluffy meringue pies,
makes me wish my name drawn out so long
were so poetic and so less white.
---
[shared but written previously]
whisper me winged and whisk me away
for to syphon some sparkles of splendrous sigh
hummed into heart and heaven
to beckon the butterflies flutter of life flight
whisk me and whip me away in this night
whoosh me and rail me in rockets of hail shale
burning to bursting the billows of breaking
lead me with lilies laughing one lovers lost song
tell me tales time has taken from trunks tangled tight
whisk me and warm me till I'm wrestling the night
wring me and bring me to the ring I'll be sling in
past the paths parting, proudly point me and push
high in the helven hopes holding on
brazen me brave strength blind in this blight
warm me and weave me white; I am the night.
------
gently sweeping up the bodies
on the sill where the light comes in
staring perplexities at the delicacy of death
in their wings and poised formations
did they come to this golden place to die
now cold in winters beautiful musk?
or did they when finally beholding suns glory
forget how to fly down from the glass olympus?
so much of the world, they had not seen.
and now in colors faded and yellow
they met me in curls and baggy greys
to be ushered away on a white, damp cloud
fainting of windex
to a cold plastic garbage.
so long winter sun.
------
friday night:
bought 3 movies
1 dollar each
for 24 hours.
watched 1.
saturday early evening:
returned 3 movies
before due time
0 dollars, 0 fines.
saturday late evening:
checked out 2 of 3
original movies, + 1 new
1 dollar each
for 24 hours.
sunday evening:
returned 0 movies,
3 dollars in fines.
watched other 2 movies.
monday evening:
returned 3 movies.
spent 9 dollars + tax
for 4 movies
for 3 days.
I could have planned this better.
------
Hey you!
yes you.
Not to be greedy but
Leave me comments.
Tell me what sucked.
What's good.
What needs a good beating.
How ever am I
going to become
awesome
without your scotch tape,
gum, paper clip, stapler,
chain saw, glued up
constructions of criticism?
Put some clothes on and have fun.
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