Sunday, July 13, 2008

she walks around quietly, but underneath it she's electric

her words pour out
as if her throat
were a broken artery
and her mind were cut glass,
carelessly halted.

you imagine her in a huge velvet hat
with great dangling black feathers,
but she shaves her head instead
and goes for three-day midnight walks.

sometimes she goes down to the dock
and dances off of it,
simply to prove her belief
that people who cannot walk on water
are phonies, or dead.

when she is cruel, she is very, very cruel.
when she is kind
she is lavish.
fisherman think perhaps she's a fish,
but they're all fools.

she figured out
that the only way to keep from being frozen
was to stay in motion,
and long ago converted most of her flesh
into liquid.

now when she smells danger,
she spills herself all over,
like gasoline,
and lights it.
she leaves the taste of salt
and iron
under your tongue,
but you don't mind,

the common woman
is as common
as the reddest wine.

- judy grahn

Monday, June 30, 2008

[you can't look in on one way eyes.]

been there a half an hour, i want to come home soon

won herself a pass to some far off moon
it was second class but what's to lose
and looking out her window she could more than assume
that you can't see air or time

started hearing voices sometime in june
she knew she could go crazy but didn't think that soon
now she doesn't feel lonely but she'd just as soon




Sunday, June 22, 2008

we will sing pretty songs about love
and we will fight if that's what it takes

Thursday, June 19, 2008

i now realize that the ancient greeks were right:
it is the human being that is the object we must seek to understand.

Friday, June 13, 2008

i guess its supposed to be that i see myself in you, but i see myself in no one, not even me.

"you should really stop letting the world tell you whats possible and try to find out for yourself."

and i turned to you and asked, "have you ever felt like you can burn the world down?"

"everday." you replied.

so, this is my life.
and i want you to know i am both happy and sad and im still trying to figure out
how that could be.

"there's a big aching hole in my chest where my heart was
and a hole in the sky where god used to be"
- bob dylan

Friday, April 18, 2008

oh, the mystery

As a human invention utilized by humans, language is perfect only as an ideal; in human hands, it becomes a highly imperfect expression of our uncertainties, mistakes, ignorance, creativity and curiosity, our hopes, anxieties, fears, and desires.

"what frightening thing is the human
a mass of gauges and dials and registers
and we can read only a few
... and those perhaps not accurately"
- john steinbeck