A morphemic essay for mags

Wheel if henna whirled a fin deaf fur hence. Wheel of two Poi an tower thing her two hors d’oeuvre he body helps his Praha blames. Water wheeze post toot who? Bag clash ugh hence tum Erica? Four heavy resource oven formation wheeze up port wither verb all a firm eh shun (whore pass if except ants), are ignore ants news beak hums tie tent. Canopy see stall too gather? No, knot come pleat Lee; knot hat Sim pulley. Ignore ants reap produce says it’s elf: a nun's top able play gambits pest hill hence. Sow hut Ken weed who? Once hole who shun wood beat who edge a Kate ugh hence depresses dupe bliss cities. High no eyes hound lie cussin’ nick, butt tits rue - thumb heed hee-haw perp. etch you eights a path he re guarding hunt rue sole who shuns. Weird um she heap! Weave hollowed of hers four sole Hong, knoll Hong her Ken weed eat err man are honed Ed duck shuns! Water are opt shuns? Know won nose beak coz weave knoll eater: halls heap fall hoeing.

Hancock Airport.

Was just speaking to A to the L I and we realized everyone that matters in this world will be in a NYC airport today. I will be in LaGuardia, Linds and Jackie have Newark covered and Ali and her frisbee friend will be at JFK. Steph is supposed to be connecting through nyc, but she goes missing for days so we're not sure where and when she'll be there. But she WILL make it to Ireland, I hope :)

Ali found a pigeon.

Tony Chachere's was just on the Hancock tele.

Jackie forgot which hostel they were staying at in Dublin.

Lindsey made it to the Path train in time for their flight. They are currently in a box. "Don't touch my jar of sand!"

Steph is missing.

That's the airport update of the day. Wish we were all in the SAME NYC airport. Especially for Ali's sake since she has a 7 hour layover or something crazy like that. Best advice: pick a pub (adirondack pub) and make an old man friend who feels sorry for you because you are ABSOLUTELY petrified of flying and hint that the only thing you can drink is Bailey's on ice because everything else make you throw up. or beat 6 guys in Poker and use their money to buy a few drinks ( that's my route ) or be in the Coast Guard and receive free refreshments for kicking ass. I would like to do an ethnography on Airport bars. That will be my career - yeeeeeeeees!

Loop Line

In speaking about motifs in Joyce's Ulysses today, PhD.R.Bye released from me a sudden moment of explicit revelation. It is to be sure we've all thought about it before but it is something we must come back to every once in a while: our place in the world. Proportions. My life is a but a blip in eternity. If we think of eternity as circular, or even a twisted ellipses (as the eternity symbol appears) there are curves along the entire movement of the figure. Though our lives appear to be a straight line in the space of our time on this earth, there are curves and turns and undulations.

We think, "START: birth; END: death."

-BIRTH- -------------(everything in between)---------------- - DEATH-

Railroad tracks are somewhat like this, because they are circularly connected, but when examined by the tiny person that I am while I am walking down it, it appears to be a long line disappearing over the horizon. It's important to place ourselves in this world, both large and small. Ulysses shows us this by revealing epic overarching themes as well as the explicit intricacies of flatulency, urination, defecation and menstration. It's scope is infinite. It is a mind-fuck and it is stimulating mine. That and coffee. And the lack of sleep. And Regina's beguiling voice:

IT'S HIP TO LOOP! - bill


This is how it works it feels a little worse than when we drove our hearse right through that screaming crowd while laughing up a storm until we were just bone until it got so warm that none of us could sleep and all the styrofoam began to melt away We tried to find some words to aid in the decay but none of them were home inside their catacomb: a million ancient bees began to sting our knees while we were on our knees praying that disease would leave the ones we love and never come again

On the radio we heard November Rain: that solo's really long but it's a pretty song
We listened to it twice 'cause the DJ was asleep

This is how it works
you're young until you're not
you love until you don't
you try until you can't
you laugh until you cry
you cry until you laugh
and everyone must breathe
until their dying breath

No, this is how it works
you peer inside yourself
you take the things you like
and try to love the things you took
and then you take that love you made
and stick it into some
someone else's heart
pumping someone else's blood
and walking arm in arm
you hope it don't get harmed
but even if it does
you'll just do it all again

and on the radio you'll hear November Rain: that solo's awful long but it's a good refrain
You listen to it twice 'cause the DJ is asleep
On the radio
On the radio
On the radio - uh oh
On the radio - uh oh
On the radio - uh oh
On the radio
Ba-budum-badum--buhm.

-RESPEKT

Naropa at dusk

Lookie those mounTAINs :)

I personally like the puddles in this picture.

(and yes Steph, this is the lice field ;) )

Art School Confidential

If you haven't seen it - check it out. It's a bit Naropa but with drawing and painting. My suggestion is to watch it until you say to yourself "Ahhhh John Malchevich always plays the same queer role."

And here's the REAL Naropa on a sunset evening...


The trees are on fire with a plume of pigment dispersal. Ate all the leaves. Fire clouds! Idon'tknow, sorry my head hurts from writing/reading. I'll get away from you now...

My Obelisk Valise

There is a world of sound that is random and there. In darkness, you can begin tapping and touch this world. Lost at the forge, beating. Without reference of space and... what is surrounding? "I didn't want to sniffle with all our eyes closed. Everyone would hear it." Well, we're all interconnected through cords, links, strands - the omphalos is the cable of all flesh. Umbilical dipthongs. Solipsism is impossible; everything exists.

Naropa Quote of the Day

If you do not know where you are going, any road will take you there.

-Lewis Carroll

the eternal doom of a vagabond...?

Bought Natural Boneless Chicken Strips today. Since when is chicken naturally boneless? And Stripped, nonetheless?

Things that makes me go hmmm.

my abs hurt

no pain no gain, they say.


(outside my living room WindOW)


c'mon. look at these clouds!!!!!!!

okay, i am using blog to procrastinate again. i'll stop... now.


okay, now. i promise.

bye.

adbusters

I drank my coffee out of a Styrofoam cup
I put something in my body that came out of extruded polystyrene

I drove to work
In the aluminum and steel over the asphalt and tar and oil
The air was heavy with carbon monoxide and hydrochloric acid pollution

MATHIEU BERNARD-REYMOND

- - -

I found this in a magazine sitting on my kitchen table brought home by my wonderful roommate Malia called ADBUSTERS.
Check out their website: http://www.adbusters.org/home/

It's good stuff - educational. YOU WILL LEARN and BE ALIVE.

These flowers. No words for them.

The mountains. View from the bus stop next door to my job. CLOUDS!

I like signs. I miss you all, come share these signs with me someday - you'd love Boulder.



Earnestly yours, friends,

Meghann

"It is better to drink wine and talk shit..."

I have to repost this and get the word out:



"It has been scientifically proven that if we drink 1 liter of water each
day, at the end of the year we would have absorbed more than 1 kilo of
Escherichia coli bacteria found in feces, in other words, we are consuming 1 kilo of poop!

However, we do not run that risk when drinking wine (or rum, whiskey, vodka, beer or other liquors) because alcohol has to go through a distillation process of boiling, filtering and fermenting. It is better to drink wine and talk shit than to drink water and be full of shit. There is no need to thank me for this valuable information. I am doing this as a public service."



from: HotWhiskeyblog.blogspot.com

for chels.

The Viaduct
It’s vegetable Puree
Language undulation:
Sympathetic Awareness
DARE

It’s sitting like this
It’s entangling and untangling the knot:
The fish attempting to swim thru the mesh
Phonetic gibberish unwound
in a link
Knitting riveting patterns

It’s sedative and energetic
A soporific vigor beat

Sillily, similarly an
alteration of seely [happy]

Passion
It’s the world according to Garp.
It’s you and me.

I took out Horoscope

Associated neuron
Lumberjack
Ducky
827N3
cadlink
wagedrgn
The People’s Reoublic of Matt
Ether bunny
Go away
D&E’s Lovenet
Otisaly
ACTIONTEC
Phideux
Belkin54g
Upstairs
Psyche
Gweb
seaLAN
Chrysalis
linksys
TANNER
Pringle Wifi
MS Home
Mahoney Wireless
Nabor
fronzaglia
dlink
addey_wireless
BuhseMagun
Lemons
Drumbeatg
GLS
Linksyssans
Licata1
Varanasi

ATTENTION:

I feel all envelopes should have perforated edges.

Today in a nutshell ("look I'm in a nutshell!")

sittin under batik queso heating onions salsa tomatoes toes avocado smash dish been known to gild the lilies with lime cleanse jeannie geneie genie jeanie woodchuck ryan adams on computer mp3 sun shining in front door purple rocket trunk door ajar door open borrow from neighbors cayenne noah licata welcome to our shoe-free home! incense projecting from plant soil fish tank dark and fishless piano book open to song with flamenco notes tapestry curtains with soft maroon oms flesh is dying hanging above PROGRAMME MUSIQUE painting nedmex the very persistent gapers of frip written in a language that was meant to fuck you up iko nibbles a little when he’s happy wasn’t nursed so still sucking thumb largehead photobatik wax coaster plum red bookshelf you know what tears me up? The tracers shovels dig a hole and go in it and hibernate. The Grateful Dead movie he’s dancing on rollerskates but not really they are cowboy boots. Be mine be my winding wheel. Cranium we landed on the head put thesethree heads togeth… he likes his ellipses Omphalos sausage eccentric (ek-sen-trick) shit “t’aint right, t’aint right- it's thanks” made a bacon grease? Drag album work here pass the tub of dish basement flood washer water undulation “of course kitty-litter is trademark otherwise it’d be CAT SHIT BOX” 23rd not 24 early bill pay said maybe 56 haomeny? Would you dance delightfully my tea organic temple warm warm no more vapor emissions twirling upward ghosts in my coffee escaping who’s got my coffee? Pumpkin latte star shit. Thankful for this this and this. All of this.

mine mind 11.21.06

Burle’s a plumber from Durango CO. Lives with his wife Betty whom he met at a bar while playing bass in a band and she wanted a baby. Kenzy is 3 and a child genius “You want to live above a mountain house and hang out with a brilliant child?” t.b. Rides a cerulean '93 explorer, stick shift. Birthday is day after. Avoiding corn and wheat to see how his body reacts. Ate two squares of corn bread last night and felt awful. N g. As submodifier: to a very high degree. Archaic: vertically. Burle calls it rat-caving. I’d call it pipe-spelunking. Tunnel scrabble. Cave exploration. He said it’s just crawl-wriggling and knocking your head on shit.
Bluegrass tunes permeate the kitchen like his elk stew last Tuesday. (secret ingredient is thyme) Mandolin, harmon, dobro, bass, martin. Voices like mellifluous rivulets. Voice like a broken washboard, rusty.
“you could wait around all day for a mess a’ hippies.”

wage waitressing would be better than racing the sun
freelance on weekends
flowershop. Bloom. Recent favorites: coxcomb and heliconia.
Terracotta roses run riot. Folk Art.

MOON GO AWAY I DON'T LOVE YOU NO MORE

- - -

tbc.

Fox Curl

vulpecula sepia
slither aisle
Cunning sleep eye
Perk-eared smile

Harry Smith.

Hello friends. I am on to another endeavor. This guy (Harry Smith) was saved by Allen Ginsberg a few decades ago from the crummy streets of NYC and housed at my very own NAROPA in a cottage. Funded by the Grateful Dead Foundation, Harry lived on a few more years to continue his eccentric, inspiring life. He collected paper airplanes from around the country and noted where each came from. I've started my own collection here in Boulder (collecting is good habit for us mountain folk). Buttons! I am collecting buttons. Cool ones, of course. Send me buttons friends!

3282 4th st
boulder, co 80304

All over you

Lilt in her intonation looms
Lingers
The tilt of her smirk shapes
perpendicular her skirt
Rim of a petal: a yellow lotus flow
hugging neatly her hips
The clasp in the back:
an etching of a sepal

Her sturdy boots stilt
(not Dutch clogs)
Epoch leather extends
rising up her legs
A fine omnibus of patterns
threads mended…
an umber-nut brown
chestnut heels, subtle
sepia interior

She sashays down the street,
Strangers’ glances ricochet
off her togs

I am, a stride at a time

Ulysses is calling like the Sirens. Paper for R.Bye is murmuring in my ear. But I have pictures from last night and I must blogem.

Fiona Apple concert at Boulder Theatre. Preceeded by The Med Tapas, Q's mixed nuts and edamame and Johnny's Cigar bar.


in case you all were wondering. this is what me looks like now. (sans john lennon shades, for the most part)



Malia pointing to Craig. Why? I don't know. Very classy leather sofa chairs.



Jesse looking chic as a siamese cat in the smoke-lounge



Fiona, in purple, to my dismay.



But she's just so cute, I let her get away with it. Okay to Fiona in lavender dress thing.

Spiro

Denoting a molecule
with TWO rings
ONE atom Common to both
Spironolactone.
To breathe irregularly.

Conspire against.
(of events or circumstance)
spires of delphiniums

To double negate – spire.
Tapering conical pyramidal structure
: typically a ch--ch tower

The continuation of a tree trunk.
Taper.
Tip of a blade of grass.

Leaf-like green
sepals
Calyx of the flower
enclosing
petals.

A whorl: a flower in a bud
Corolla - a cuplike cavity
A portion of the pelvis in a mammalian kidney

calcareous coral skeleton that surrounds the polyp
Stalk and Arm
Case of a bud husk

Kaluptein – to hide
Convolutions of gastropod
Ammonoid mollusk

Arranged concentrically around the receptacle
(or spindle)
A complete circle in a fingerprint
Touch it
Coil it or ring in particulars of its sequence

Why not argyle?
Too tactile; doesn’t spate like a heavy rain.
It must ebb. Must not stop.

Gradual-


gone.

St Louis!

as you requested sir...

Elise
Elysium
Elysian Fields
Champs- Elysees
The abode of the blessed
After death
Telescopically
A place of ideal happiness
(or a condition)
A dwelling place
Assigned to happy souls
After death
Paradise
Elusion – evasion
The act of avoiding capture
(especially by cunning)
Slip
Elude – to escape
The understanding, perception of
Appreciation of.
Speed cleverness trickery

Eluder
Eludette

Grasp of
Circumvent parry skirt dodge
Duck sidestep
Dodge – to shade from
Exposure for a period
Prevaricate
To straddle something
Collude with an opponent’s advocate
To act together
A secret understanding
Unison
Tandem
The Verificationist
“…from our own and each other’s inevitable and final abandonment.”

Somehow

Posted By:not an Airplane

Get this video and more at MySpace.com


not an airplane

Turds and Walnuts

A lump of waste:
that’s what you are.
a Vidalia curry after coagulation
settled after the simmer
I hate a cold dinner

A slothful walnut is
what you’ll become.
You may have ornamental timber
personality
But you’re skin will wrinkled
& you'll shed every year
& you’ll be but a seed
for the people who turn from turds
to chump nuts.




*great research poems coming along ;)

Roll no Rocks

This past weekend has brought together many elements of Colorado that I have yet to fully indulge in. It was David’s last weekend here in Boulder, USA so we decided to hike one of the infamous 14ers. We chose the second deadliest mountain to begin our exploration of the world above cloud-line: Longs Peak.

We planned on camping up in Rocky Mountain Nat’l Forest the night before and then beginning out trek straight from the tent. It was raining and storming Friday night so we delayed our departure time and made the half an hour drive early Saturday morning.

By early, I mean eaaaaarrrrly. We woke up at 1:30 am, went to a 7-11 (still packed with Pearl Street bar go-ers) and headed up to Nederland to take the Peak to Peak Highway to the mountain. We bounced around and sang along to Bluegrass music and drank some wonderfully fresh convenience store coffee. Equipped with one bad-ass flashlight and backpacks full of water food and raingear, we started our ascent in the pitch black of night/morning: 3:05 am.

The hike was a steady winding trail through the forest for about 2.5 miles. The trees slowly disappeared until we reached a sign reading “Alpine Tundra: Please stay on trail” which meant we were above tree-line. The sun rose just as we got in a bicker about who would hold the flashlight and where that person should walk, as if to say “Stop quarreling over light; I will lead the way.”

Long Longs hike story short: we kicked ass past the tundra, Boulder Field, keyhole, trough, narrows, scary-exposed-slippery-on-the-side-of-a-mountain section and up the final “homestretch” and made it to the summit at 10:00 am. The homestretch is a full out mountain climb at about a 70 degree angle (would be my guess). Basically, this portion was the “if you slip, you fall off the mountain into the abyss” section. My all around reaction to climbing Longs Peak via the Keyhole Route is this: at each turn, the ascent gets slightly scarier and more difficult, as if preparing you for each next step. I found myself turning each corner and literally saying out loud “Fuck.” But then you do it and once you’ve done it, you figure you can step up your game a notch for the next part.

The sun rising behind the clouds (that are below us- we are at Alpine Tundra).



Fog moving over Boulder Field. Looks like the moon.



View of the Keyhole from Boulder Field.




The large crater we would fall into if we fall off the Narrows.


David on top of Longs Peak. Roll no rocks.


That’s my Longs Peak impression.

We also went to the Planet Bluegrass Folk Festival in Lyons, CO on Sunday. Moira Smiley, Martyn Joseph, Paul Kelly, Assembly of Dust, Andrew Bird, Martin Sexton and Ani DiFranco. Need I say more?

We began the day with a taste of Cajun Kitchen at Lucille's in Boulder. We had cajun donuts and crazy big biscuits. Not to mention Hank's Eggs- yum.

As for the fest- New Belgium ran the beer tent and there was a creek nearby where people waded around and created rock structures. There were hula hoop contests and songwriting competitions going on all day. There were gyros and sweet potato fries. I saw a few Naropa friends. We ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with Skinny Dip beer. It sprinkled a bit. Nearly the entire crowd saw a shooting meteor fly across the mountain backdrop of the stage in between Martin Sexton and Ani’s act. Ani played Gravel. It was an all around fun-loving, relaxing festival. ☺

pictures coming soon...

Blogconsolidation

A good blogger friend of mine has recently chosen to stray from poetic nonsense and purely use his blog as a web log of daily events/reactions/thoughts. I thought this a good idea, so I'm going to test the murky waters that are true blogging.

---

I have recently moved up into the foot of the mountains in Boulder Colorado and the shift has brought about many new dailies. I now have to fear smashing my bike into a deer while riding to work at 4:30 am. The sun has still not arisen whenever I make my way to wonderful One Boulder Plaza, but I see a vast sky of stars and the moon is usually just sinking over the flatirons to my right. It makes for a beautiful view, but an unsafe one at that.

On my way home today, I was coasting down the large hill that falls from Mapleton to Alpine on 4th street. I usually use this quick drift to make it up the next ascent. Today, there were kids curving all over the road so I couldn't quite make speed. As I stood up to trek up the last piece of uphill, a swarm of gnats hit me. They entered every orifice in my face and I gasped, blinked and nearly sneezed. I stopped my bike and simultaneously coughed and rubbed my eyes free from gnats. As I regained vision I looked up to see a garbage truck driver staring at me kind of smiling. I think he had previously knowledge of the gnat pack.

Although the gnats are usually nothing but a nuisance, the deer can be fun. As David and I were hanging out in my room one afternoon we heard a rustle outside the window. We peered over the high windowsill and saw a preteen bambi sniffing our neighbor's tree. He looked over at us for a while until he was bored with the faces we were making at him and went back to chewing random plants.


Mt. Sanitas rocks.

Untitled (for now)

A tree, shaven from wind & season,
sheds its bark onto
those below

The trunk, thick with
curves & ridges in its
sharp skin bark,

scrapes my delicate
ankle skin as I pass
a bit too close

But it heals, the cut,
placed so close to the
Achilles heel

The places more prone
to scarring are
the knuckles, the knees

the heart.

Blog to check out

Dear Bloggees

I will be taking a month hiatus from posting my hasty poetry.

Why?- you ask?

I decided I need to quit effing around and get serious with what I write about.

Also- when I post these things, I kinda just move on and never edit and never attempt to better em.

I will be working on research poems. If you would like to know what these are, please comment.




Joint blogs will continue through this lengthened poetry-writing lacuna.
Woop!

Blogger Propaganda

Stephanie and I are proud to announce the introduction of our two new children (born a few days apart; fraternal) into the cyber world.

These are collaborative efforts.

get with it people

comment!

Why are yawns contagious?

Contagion
Con tangere
Together with
the touch
Against
The opposite and adjacent
Contagious
Communicable
Spread of things
Good or bad
such as laughter or merriment
or yawning
Contagiousness
To spread and affect
With or without contact
Infectious
Transmission
Through the environment
Influence
Extend

I watched a yawn wave crash over the audience of poets and prose writers today.

Yawn
To open one’s mouth
Gaping
To open one’s mouth
Wide open
Deep Huge
Great!
Reflexive act
of opening one’s mouth
Action
Reaction
To open one’s mouth
and inhale
To open one’s mouth
Involuntary
Inherently empathetic
and aware

Said to be an action that circulates
Through nearby bystanders
Who want to understand the human condition
And therefore, subconsciously, try out the act.

Picaresque: A ship's soul survivors

When two colors collide
Instinct draws September

You were amongst brown eyes
& orange saris, bracelets, curry
for months
You arrived back in New York
In the night
When I saw you first, I shifted
on the concrete steps
I approached you, touched
Soft cotton, orange om shirt
For a few rupees, I imagined

We met up later at the
Soup & Burger on W 8th street
Each ordered a pound of meat
and spoke in soft tones about
harsh things
discordant themes of reverie

You said it felt different
You said: “You feel it too, don’t you?”
I nodded either up of left
I can’t exactly recall
But I do distinctly remember
the fall of the tear onto the pickle
caste aside.
It has occupied my mind
for some time now.

We paid the bill then made our way
South toward Washington Square Park
Where we found a dark corner on the north
that had a momentarily abandoned bench

It was quiet there.
We kept our talk about the
Summer, the year.
You, back in South Louisiana
Me, back to Brooklyn soon
“It’s distance and unassuredness
It seems absurd
It snaps the branch of us,
In a sense”
A bough already bent

-haunting sailor-esque musical interlude lead by mandolin accordian and tuba-

I buried my face into your
Orange shirt, shifted one hand
inside your left pocket,
holding.
You joked about how she was
wearing brown and orange to
The Conan show; just like you
Completely missing my new brown skirt
My shirt, a saffron hue.

I cried into your shoulder
Sobbing slobbering shaking
We sat, you then rested your head
against my lap and took a nap.
I listened to the song
“The Mariner’s Revenge”
and stared.


:In this belly of a whale
I:t’s ribs are ceiling beams
Y:ou may not remember me
He:r sheets still warm with him
To :keep their vestry nice and neat
The: prior exchanging words
The :following day
Ther:e is one thing I must say to you
To lea:n in close and I will whisper:

Naropa is...

This was a pass-around assignment where everyone in the class would write Naropa is... (fill in blank)... then pass it to the next student. In the end, we had 17 lists of Naropa is's. A selection:

Naropa is a lunch box
Naropa is open to nudity, unlike CU
Naropa is a temporarily ridiculous zone
Naropa is the audience for my ridiculous zone
Naropa is magnolia blossom, red & pink
Naropa is wilting
Naropa is the beginning of the end
Naropa is the paper cut on Charlotte's arm from the paper I'm shoving at her
Naropa cut me!
A naropian wasp stung me!
Naropa is not afraid of the pain.

Naropa is totally throwing off my gaydar
Naropa is full of hot women that might be gay
Naropa is my aphrodisiac
Naropa is transgendered bathrooms at the library
Naropa is into tantric things
Narops is a small aquatic fox of southern New Guinea
Naropa is skid-marks on the stranger sitting next to you's underwear
Naropa is kinda gross, at times
Naropa is stronger than dirt
Naropa is going to Cuba
Naropa is going to kiss Fidel
Naropa is Fidel

Naropa Naropa
Naropa is a good place to fuck post-emo, post-modern, post hippie Buddhist-questioning men
Naropa is about fucking the minds of the mono-culture fascists, with compassion
Naropa is extremely simple when you stop thinking
Naropa is the square root of infinity haw haw
Naropa is star tattoooooooooooo
Naropa is shooooooooooooting star
Naropa is one of the strangest places to be drunk and rambling in half-poetry, half non-sense
Naropa is the perfect place to be drunk and rambling in half-poetry, half non-sense
Naropa is drunk rambling poetry non-sense
Naropa is sober, concise and imperfect
Naropa is an AA meeting for drunks on poetry
Naropa doesn't take into account Tequila happy hour
Naropa is Tequila happy hour
Naropa is drunk today, definitely staggering
Naropa spends hours in the personal ads searching for a sensative love who likes eating meat
Naropa is without speedlimit
Naropa isn't

Naropa is calling to me in my sleep
Naropa is wonderful onderful nderful derful erful rful ful ul l
Naropa is a deep hand-print on your left breast reast east ast st t
Naropa is shaken, not stirred
Naropa is full of sea-shll sculptures
Naropa is the water bottle in the mesh pocket of my life's bag
Naropa is a place where bottles of water are also a form of currency
Naropa is a place where I currently
Naropa really has to pee
Naropa is beckoning
Naropa is a curled up yoga mat next to an esoteric gong
Naropa is contemplating her navel
Naropa is probably an exit maneuver
Naropa is a mechanical pencil in the hands of a three year old
Naropa is where "first thought, best thought" often means "shut up and drink that"
Naropa is my second thought and definitely not my best thought
Naropa is the process of wanting a drink of water, knowing you'll get it, but not yet

Naropa is breath in a gas-mask world
Naropa is a fart in a windstorm
Naropa is splat, ho hum
Naropa is a single eyelash floating down the length of a singularly sexy body- and we all are watching it
Naropa is the fart in car with all the windows up and no exit strategy
Naropa is not the present perfect of the verb "to run"
Naropa is orange, silver and saffron
Naropa doesn't rhyme
Naropa dances aerovoka
Naropa is a vote without chads
Naropa is currently engaged in a testicle comparing contest with Chuck Norris
Naropa's balls of metaphor and anti-matter

Naropa is the capital of chai
Naropa is a small oddball college in Colorado with a Buddhist orientation
Naropa is sequoia tree shavings playing swords with themselves
Naropa is OW! a splinter
Naropa is a pain in the grass
Naropa is better left unspoken
Naropa is too good not to be false
Naropa is full of gov't spies!
Naropa is a cornflake in a cow's second stomach
Naropa is in need of a window washing
Naropa? Naropa, c'est moi.
Naropa is a chocolate cornflake shake in a dream with French subtitles
Naropa is the subtitles
Naropa speaks esperanto
Naropa is my favorite party favor
Naropa is drunk on petuli
Naropa is the last one out of the oxygen bar
Naropa is a disembodied institution of Higher learning
Naropa is a disembowled institution of higher scaffolding
Is Naropian a word?
Naropa is open 24/7
Naropa is an alternate reality, resonating with Yoda
Naropa is free of marmots

Naropa ist nicht ein Schnitzelbank, und auch nicht meine Tante Maria
Naropa is a mustache kiss inside my brain
Naropa is NOT two wings on the same vampire bat!
Naropa is experiencing sexual tension
Naropa is aporan, backwards
Naropa is aporan forwards
Naropa can spell the female version of a porno: a porna
Naropa is much much more than 30 acres and a mule
Naropa means "no clothes" in spanish
Naropa is climbing up a totem pole, naked
Naropa is clilmbing on the scaffolding, naked
Naropa is nuked by naked Maoist
Naropa is Ricky Lake... naked
Naropa is a place with more "thank you for not smoking" signs than smokers
Naropa is the thank you on the smoking sign
Naropa is lacking rubber chickens
Naropa has a crack

Naropa is free bicycles
Naropa is forming an itch on the back of my brain
Naropa is like a rock; just do it
Naropa is perhaps, but then again, maybe not
Naropa is egg whites, soy
Naropa is levitating
Naropa is not cheese, definitely NOT cheese
Naropa is Christ's hot vacation spot
Naropa is allah's bakery
Naropa is a bar of oatmeal hemp soap
Naropa is the land where the cheese has slid off the cracker
Naropa is baby, baby, kiss me softly in the moonlight, baby, oh I croon for you, sweet oh honey, love ya sweet hon, kiss me, yeah.
Naropa is hilthy, deppie, quild and weir
Naropa is aerating your next door neighbor
Naropa is my favorite color.

A horizontal underground stem that often sends out roots and shoots from its nodes.

Flood of recourse
Staging presence
Mexican tequila
Evanescent week
Dark grey bracelet
Steel flavored sheets
Studio makeshift
Rent too deep
Enter the poem
Basement window ajar
Four pronged socket
Plugged up clock
Missing light switch
Happy hour Sangria
Heating up belly
Curdling squirrel poop
Shaving of sycamore
Sword fights poke
Shine desperate moon
Mountain overlap
Rhizomatic word.

Chelsea sparked the Suub

She touched the car hood
And created an alarming sound
Instead of shock
She backed right up
And started to dance around.

Dulcinea

The auto-pilot knows her best
A paroxysm of quixotic electro-shock blues
entangles you into
the mysterious production of eggs.

She’s stereopathetic soulmanure:
A pale coil of stamps
a rift in the perforated edges
She’s an audit in Our World’s Divorce
We have the facts and we’re voting “yes;”
Escape these paegan terrorist attacks through
chutes too narrow.

Which one’s you?
Have you fed the (acoustic) fish.
Have you fixed a comforting thought.
Show your bones, you Loup Garou!
“There’s No Body to Battle When Your Mind Is Your Might”
howls the Woman King.

It’s okay if you’re lost
It’s early A.M. when the clouds all taste metallic
when the motorcade of generosity
filters in like The Delivery Man
like a version of yourself
after the soma project has sunk in
after tears brim out of the vein

These are the strategic grill locations
These are the sketches for my sweetheart,
the drunken moonflower plastic twig
whose little spaces dilate
whose happiness is not a fish
you can catch.

Ruby Vroom,
She’ll capture you
She’ll drown you in an ass-pocket of whiskey
Deja-voo doo you
She courted a vintage burden
and love said “no”.

Leftovers

Candied Yams Macaroni Casserole
Combination of:
crushed croutons
a can of yams
mac n cheese
sprinkles of sugar
sprinkled mexican cheese
sliced ham
glass pan

Cook mac mix with
sliced ham then
slop in glass pan
Can of yams
cooked in juice
butter brown sugar
sprinkle mex-cheese &
crushed croutons on top
Bake for some minutes
(at whatever temperature
the oven was set to
however long you can wait)
to eat the candied yam mac-casserole

Has a casserole aroma
and a steady aftertaste.

Life's a diversion. From what? You decide.

for Jen


The boy morphed into a clandestine gremlin with just a few swift movements:
He hopped behind a bush a few inches taller than he
and he bent his knees
and squinted his eyes
and scrunched his face,
as if the smaller he made his face, the smaller his body would appear,
(or disappear) behind the bush.

He peeked through the bending boughs on my left
but forgot to hide his white plastic butterfly catcher
so I whispered as I peered at him in my peripheral vision
“You can’t catch me-”
and at the break of my last vowel, I broke into a sprint
toward the main door.
The spontaneity of my scurry triggered a giggle from the bush.

I turned to see him standing, just barely to the side of the bush
An uneasy countenance surfaced about his abilities:
worried he hadn’t hidden well
I smiled and said “Maybe next time.”

What's the acronym-ical sentence for TALK?

After a few five minute intervals
we sat on a bus bench
Him detached
Me in haste
We switched-
Me stare off
Him speculative.

Our volumes rose and fell
Quelled by an emerging ambulance
Siren erupts! from the air to ear
Closer, a reflection off the Mexican restaurant
Then quick shift in passing

Skirt flips, hands hold it down
Silents
We up and (I think) resolve
the moods.
He walks away for food.
Again, we hit the up/down switch
Again, ambivalent about.

Naropa Update!

For all (three) of my blog readers:

We are heading into week 3 of the 4 week process that is Naropa's Summer Writing Program. Each week we meet on Monday with our MFA class and talk about readings we've done for all the professors and guest speakers that will be at Naropa in the upcoming week (usually about 15 extremely interesting and talented men and women).

Week 2 favorites included Lisa Jarnot, Rebecca Brown, Donald Preziosi, Laird Hunt, Akilah Oliver, Anne Waldman and Elizabeth Robinson. For a "get-you-thinking" assignment, we had to take one of these writer's texts and make a piece of art out of it. Now, the perimeters were loose, so we could do basically whatever we wanted with this assignment.

I took Donald Preziosi's text "Haunted by Things" from -Brain of the Earth's Body: Art, Museums, and the Phantasms of Modernity- and "magnified", if you will, certain words on the page to create a poem out of the words already presented on the page. Here is what it turned out to be: (looking much cooler ON the actual text)

a blend collision
intermix tion
delicate two opposing
passion

for the most part
is ART
which is
unfading
yet ephemeral by
the bouncing back of images
and usually in a time
not always
coincidental.

Microphon-a-phobic

The dispersal of my voice all at once
to all your ears
Smother strangle your
Tube Eardrum Tympanum
Wrangling our beauty language
with acrimonious vibration.
“I apologize ahead of time -
I shouldn’t’ve put you through this”
Process slurry pronunciation of my words
Catatonic dissonance; I hear myself
being taped.
I taped myself at a young age
Played it back
Hated it.

Cross-genre Capsa

She has the confidence of a blonde
The smirk of a brunette
The twinkle of a child
The wit of an old Volvo

She has the likes of a child
The transience of a blonde
The trajectory of a Volvo
The quiet eyes of a brunette

She has the scribble of a Volvo
The trinket of a child
The scape of a brunette
The footnote of a blonde

The brunette of a canteen
The Volvo of a Stephanie
The blonde of a cat-hair
The child of a planet encounter

Blonde fronds in brunette sail-canvas
Shrink like a child curled Volvo

What's more important than peeing and sleeping?

The breaks we are granted are short little niches
where regular life tries to keep on.
Getting cleansed dressed prepped for the day
Shaving bathing our clothes for proper aroma
Most of these deal with tolerable fragrance-
acceptable redolence for our new friends.
(we are in close quarters -
it is just considerate
not to carry an odor)

After lecture today- Tuesday- I stopped at the stairwell
in my apartment complex,
thought: “Haven’t checked the mail in some time.”
But my internal timer did the math
I had to pee
Had to nap

I couldn’t think of any letter package bill
more important than these acts.

What’s more important than peeing and sleeping?
Apparently, writing a poem.

Zoning

“When you were a little kid
Did you ever lock yourself in the closet?”
Syntax disturbs intentional message
He locked himself up in the bathroom
Naked
With a few papers
A pencil, I assume
And his glasses on

I hadn’t knocked for hours
And didn’t ask him how his time was
When he emerged

“The Universe” as a Black Hole or America collapsing under its own massive ego

Ameritocracy (&-'mer-&-'tä-kr&-sE): n.
1) a hegemony of American ethnocentricity; a selfishness specific to US.

If a helicopter were to be flown above and around the world, America
would be the overhead rotor blades; not propelling itself to go higher, but instead dragging those beneath it to trail along

And we’re vacuuming
We’re sucking the culture out of the world
Maybe we’re jealous that others aren’t melted, so we attempt to meld them to
McDonald’s
Nike
Gap
If not with the hamburgers, shocks and sweaters,
with the hamburglers, shock and sweat shops.
We tie their shoestrings together and pretend to expect them
to stand on their own two feet
Fully aware that the knot is too tight
and they’ll trip and fall right into our support “system”

Hovering over the pooooooooor countries
that need our help
Our help in extracting the oil from their land
Our help in commercial labor
Our help in nuclear advice
Our help in raising their children
Raising their armies
And raising their flags

Tag:
“Hello, my name is America”

But the underlying message is
“Hello, you will be saved by becoming a mirror-America.
If we’re going to hell, you’re all coming with us.”
Enjoy the freedoms of fast food
Enjoy the freedoms of democracy
Hypo-crazy because
Nothing is the only thing
free
We are bound just as any other
Bound to stereotypes
Bound to government funding
Bound to our TV’s media
Constantly re-bounding from our shots missed
One day a country, not as tall,
but with a higher jump will catch the ball.


What are we here?
A ten tier broken sphere with half working
transient ears
Trolley hop between bridge gaps
Gaping like a baffled man
Grown- an adept, competent person
in disbelief of patterns
the shapes types and masks
projecting out toward
The East
The Other

The disbelief is maddening
like an unconscious comma
placed in the wrong space
in a sentence

His face gapes
Stuck like someone slapped
his back and it became
fixed like that.

Even when he smiles,
his lips are just a crease.
He hates the ease in
which he carries on in a conversation
in a country so broken
Scattered, battered, beaten, persisting in
good/ and bad ways

Is he bad to be so privileged and so lost
like the comma?
No matter which angle he sides with
He is somewhere
to someone, where that somewhere is wrong
to somebody.
What’s right?

United? Divided States of America
into sides
of right wrong
Long short
Retort prompt

Which came first- was it the chicken or the egg?
Was the egg a reaction to the chicken?
Was the chicken a hatching of the egg?
Who started it? “ You started it!”
Who cares!
It persists and we’re all apertures
spewing our intentions
Propositions
But what is resolved?

Ameritocracy is hypocrisy.
A country- each side, every angle
faction wing bloc sector pressure group
camp branch area variable- each one is
conniving & contorting pretension
This belief that his or her values should and will
Be universal
His belief is controversial to the opponent
The opponent’s belief is contentious, as well
Disbelief in the world as a circle
with us as the center.

Where am I going with this?
Where are we going? – when we
have a word specific to our own
Ethnocentricity.
A pathologic propensity to be revolved around,
as opposed to evolving within/amidst, the world.

(This is where the conclusion goes)
Yet there doesn’t seem to be any resolution.
We just let the years pass, decade by decade with
tens of hundreds of New Year’s Resolutions unresolved.

So where’s my solution?
Today I realized that as hypocritical as Ameritocrity is
Amerisocrity is our privilege as poets:
We indulge.
We explore rhetoric and resistance and rebuttals
in our fortunate forum.
Who else can save us?
What else?
Questions that bend at whichever light
that it lends.

Aurora

I wake up late on a Saturday
and an odor permeates
jostles my nostrils to turn toward him
and nestle my face in a crevice

Although my nose is small, it tickles
his longest hair
and he stirs
and slurs something incomprehensible

Although the allure of his scent
has sent me here,
I shift 90 degrees and place
my ear on his abdomen

I find there is no better place to
take a morning nap than the belly button

The Great Pumpkin

Slept out on the porch
the bedroom, his radiating body heat, too hot
so I snatched up pillow, pants, long brown blanket
and Linus van Pelt-ed out to the porch

* * *
the stars crowded with clouds
and Canyon Blvd teeming with whizzing cars
the mountains squirreled away
but the air, unblemished

a breeze so slight, the trees barely sway,
I lay across the two ottomans accompanying
our odd sofa seats and fling
my left leg up over the armrest

* * *

Woven into chestnut cotton
snarled up like an entangled scorpion
I slept pleasantly under the semi-starless sky

A Slight Disparity in Clarity

Argument
An exchange of diverging or opposing views
Discussion
A detailed treatment of a particular topic in speech or writing
I’d rather the latter

I trip on the first
I burst forth with emotion and twist myself
up in a nonsensical abrasion of the issue
scraping the edges; a blunt stump

Instead of sharpening a point
I write and write with my granite tip
Saw off thoughts that pop in my head
Sparks of speech leap from my mouth

I leak tears like a tempestuous preteen
I’m weak and beat from the poke

Doorkey

I hold the golden ingredient up
with the divots facing down
Against the brown wood paneling
of the elevator door

The incisions resemble mountains:
the foothills, the flatirons
just west of us

The vista from our terrace

proves the notion true
The juts and abrupt slants
fit the topography of my key
Perfectly

A miniature landscape in my hand:
What an attractive apparatus.

Tranquil lakes run deeper

How many thoughts go unsaid
the important ones
the thoughts that mean something to the world
but are held back because of their weight

A weight so heavy
it burdens the mind
it hampers action
Like an anchor on your fishing boat

Sitting in the early AM
waiting for fish to come to the same spot they haven’t come to for hours
They will not come
unless you stir the stillness

What is it about silence
that leaves us so afraid to speak?

Fitting

I'm sitting on the slant
the blue checkered ramp to the terminal
in the city I've called home for the last
almost half-decade

I find it fitting that this is the transfer zone

To Say Goodbye

This year was marked with great friends, great memories and thankfully, some great pictures to document!

Unfortunately, I am still behind on the whole digi-camera thing, so I do not have any pictures.

Thankfully, I have three photographing friends who love to snap their cameras a lot. Is that what you do, snap photos? Shoot photos? I guess I am also behind on the lingo. Well here goes a photo walk through my senior year of college...



Key contributors (in no particular order because uploading pictures is still not my forte):

Steph
Que
Tina

The first big moment was saying goodbye to our summer home: Stone Harbor. This beautiful sunset over the Yacht Club bay marks an ending to an era. Our cozy cottage era.

Yet, our summer friends were not ready to let it end. Ali and Jake came to visit us in Brooklyn for a surreptitious pre-season sleepover (note: we're wearing newspaper hats to keep away the rain... good idea...)

Then Tina and Ali traveled SIX HOURS to Boston to watch us play in humid humid heat. They even brought me a watermelon :)
Then Ali's Birthday! We got all dressed up to walk home across the Brooklyn Bridge :)
And Ali met a dog named Teddy at Barcade in Williamsburg...
And my brother got a new puppy named Daisy- which would prove to be my new job when I came home for winter break. She looks so innocent...


Now they say college is all about drinking, bars and having a good time: we had our share of bars and celebrations. Jeremy's, Floyd's, Tavern, Newgate, BBQ on 8th, Josie Woods and Camp...
Tina and I karyoking to CCR at Village Ma's.
Ryan and Caley getting ready to kick ass in bocce ball at Floyd's
Fish is so excited about this shot, she can't contain herself.
Someone wrote Catie's name on a napkin with BBQ sauce!
Yeah, Gans' downed all of those 32 ozers.



AND YES, throughout the good times, soccer was interspersed. Oregon!
Camera crew, Denise, Meg and Jackie found the big draw of Portland: "Special" Elvis
How many Vdubs did we see? Well, Steph thought this was was pretty rad. Can't you tell by her expression?
And who could forget us stealing fun oregon beach games from nearby little kids. Ahhhh, seaweed skip-it - still fresh in my mind!
This is what happened when Jackie screamed "Turn and pose!" as Caley, Fish, Steph and I were walking toward the Pacific Ocean. Hot models, we are.
And Gans Fish TD Caley and Jackie thought it'd be funny to imitate the Chippery people. (they did not think this mockery was funny, but couldn't express their resent because, well, they are metal.)
And bus/van trips are always a good time. Look at this "candid" photo of Jackie TD and I laughing our asses off.


80's night!
First of all, all 80's photos should be taken at this angle.

Secondly, girls could pose like this in the 80's and not get called lesbians. (Even though she does like chicks)


ANOTHER NIGHT TO DRESS UP: Halloween :)


We got some firefighters hanging from poles, a mummy, the Ninja Turtles, Braveheart and...The naughty Red Baron and Golfer. Well, we weren't "naughty", but there were some fun poses we could do with that plastic club.
And so, an interlude for Miss Tina Prickett- my roommate, best friend and sister from another mister...

She loves to pose, that is for sure. This is Tina doing a photoshoot at the Salmon River waterfalls- less commonly known as, Forbidden Downs.
And she loves her muscles. Looking hot in (half-a)toga.
She's always willing to share the last few shots on a raft in the bay (and then break up incurring fights on the dock)
Rest on a chilly iceblock to make sure we get the perfect picture...
Try and convince an old cowboy to give up his hat for her performance on the bar of "The Devil Went Down to Georgia"

And these 5 pictures of Tina cannot even sum up her existence. Everytime anyone hangs out with her, she is the welcomed center of focus.

Tear * tear* miss you bull...

Moving on to another sad moment: THE END of my soccer collegiate year.
Jackie and I as we walk away from ever playing soccer together again...
(we're actually walking to the Brooklyn Library to read to young children)
Oh how I will miss the Hawthorne Inn and its Murphy Bed!
After the Conference Championship- losing one to zero to the Blue Devils - I take out my sadness and anger at the Tavern, in my home Jersey with lots of beer and swamp frog in me.

Who could forget Oswald, Kalvin, Dagg and Peck? The only imaginary characters that kept me sane throughout my ankle injury...

Soccer was a great time. LIU kicks ass AND we're cool. Beat that CCSU.


WITH EVERY END COMES ANOTHER BEGINNING
even if it someone else's beginning...
Ali graduates from the Coast Guard!!! (and Chelsea has my BURGUNDARY purse from Kmart)

What a joyful time it was to see Ali again. Sorry, there are no pictures from this upside-down night with me and my mac at this moment. Perhaps this section will be updated later...

ANOTHER NEW BEGINNING:
The marriage of Jerry and Melinda! Also known as Gerald and Miranda. A beautiful Seattle New Year's wedding for a gorgeous couple with an endless future.
This is us at Snoqualmie Falls, stalking Jerry and Melinda on their honeymoon.
Juuuust kidding, they had already left and Steph Jackie and I wanted to check out the place.
But we do look stealth...

Speaking of stealth, here's some legit, hardcore, rated X stealthiness for ya'
Notice: Rainbows are Gay. It's funny cause it's true.
And next to her, with the quote of the year:
"Gay is gay, age is irrelevant" -TD
Mission possible.
Gans and Jackie with their stealthiest faces
I did not attend this mission, but damn I wish I did.

While we're on the subject
some more stealth
you'd understand why this is stealth if you knew the context...
Catie, plotting AGAIN.
Fish as Super Fish, just a part of the stealth squad.

Enough stealth. Man, that word is leaving my mouth dry. On to my roommates!

So this is how I decided we'd spend Valentine's Day. Framboise, cheese and crackers and chocolate covered strawberries. Yum! Oh and wearing green. Instead of Vday, we made it Greenday!
Our family photo. Amy is the baby. Me mom, Tina pops.
Tina cooking us some kind of concoction. I think this one was green bean casserole.
(the onions get to her eyes, so she wears goggles)
Slainte- to a great year in 7M

Speaking of a manless Valentine's Day... I did some math in my head the other night.
Over the past 365 days, I have only seen David 19. Ten of those days were on our cross country trip to San Francisco. Here's my tribute to our travels...
Here we are in Houston at his Grandparents house. I love the bricks in the background
This is me in a tree at the LBJ Museum in Western Texas. Yes, I am wearing the same shirt, because I went the whole week living out of one backpack. I rock (and possibly smell? nooooo)
Carlsbad caverns... staring in to the BATCAVE where all the bats fly out of at some point (that we missed). Damn travel deadlines. So much to do, so little time...

A candid shot of David coming out of the meteor crater. I actually forget where exactly this was, but I do remember the circumstances. Dixie Chicks blaring, sign that says Crater exit! We get off the exit, it's 11 miles to the crater and when we get there it's 10 bucks each.
The crater wasn't worth it.
This picture was.
Me contemplating over the Hoover Dam

To be continued...
Blogging gets tiring