Wary

Iron

All the kin I need,
Provide me comfort and joy.
In a dark winter.



Not so sure about the rapprochement with the genetic kin. Wary, sensitive to manipulation and disregard. I will only accept it as a comfort and joy, if they take me whole, not out of entitlement on their part, and un-accepted obligation on mine. No, I don't need any of it, although I'm willing to unlock the door. Mostly on the principle of "you never know." But too much evidence of expectation, and intolerance, too many ignored promises, then I am perfectly happy with my Iron Curtain dropping again. They control little I want, nothing I need. No leverage to speak of - if they try to lean, they will find themselves with no resistance, because I've walked away. Which presents a comical image of them on their faces. Been there, done that.

Many people in my life have been surprized and offended, when they push me a little too far, that my earlier acquiescence turns in to a cold absolute negation. I'm not very good at graduated warnings. I try to give warnings earlier. My writing is pretty... blunt, excoriating, at times. I think I'm as hard on myself as others, but perhaps only you who read here have a real sense of this.

I cannot express how glad I am that D takes me entirely as I am, and has seen me at my worst, my most intense, many times, and admires me, likes me still. More so. Full disclosure, and we still like each other.

Hoping for sleep, good night.

Need

Needing only this,
Enough to love, to listen
Eloquent silence.


Deleted a post with this photo, had to include this comment from Crow,

I hope you will pardon this bit of irreverance, inspired by your photo: And, lo! The Light shone down and the Light became word, and the word was Moby. Amen.

Such a humble cat, yet so full of majesty when the moment calls for it.

Morrow

Tomorrow and to
morrow. Long days & short nights.
Solstice needs more light.

Bucko

Not so fast there, bub.
Elation mixed with terror,
A yes too soon jars.


We got word, then found out it was a bit premature. Still, a step in the right direction, but a wrong-footing one. Back to sitting tight, but with brightening in the east.

Limbo

Floating in between.
Adrift in a salty sea
One shore here, one there.

Clogged

In a lull of words,
Clogged up in grey silent thought
Even my eyes close.

Beans

Moments and days stream.
Time slipping through, my fingers
plunged into dry grains.






Have you ever been at a place that sets out dry beans, coffee or barley sort of thing, on the table? A couple of places here do, and I cannot keep my hands out of them. As I once loved bowls of pennies, or sand in the sandbox, or rice. Any large amount of small coherent things that are smooth and dry and move around each other. I've always been a very tactile person, and this is a powerful lure. More than fabric, more than large, waxy leaves, more than lustrous hair.

Ecru

Strange ecru boredom.
Dull, invariable brown.
Yearning for wild storms.

Dreamed I was in a weird, plotless sci fi film on an alien station under nuclear attack, with lots of corporate logos and a bad soundtrack song, a time-card that wouldn't work, and I had to babysit something - possibly several enormous cats.


For the better part of the last month, the weather has been the same 80 high/60 low every damn day. Three more days of it, and then, possibly, maybe, it will all change.

Thickening

Dreams thicken my sleep.
Grandmother, too young, alive
And speaking English.

My father's mother only spoke French, River Canard French, rural and uneducated. Her English was rudimentary. She was mostly bedridden since before I was born, and I hardly remember her sitting up, walking only when I was very small. There were many reasons given for this, including a hip surgery in her 70s, at a time when this wasn't a safe course for someone younger. There were lots of pills, and whispers of cancer, and the surety that she would not make it through the summer, through the winter. I suspect she was sick from being in bed too much, although I never questioned it at the time. She lived to be 98, cared for by her daughter, the aunt of mine I most disliked. She died when I was 22.

I have very little feeling for her, good or bad. She was a non-entity, who called me June. Given that I was the only granddaughter, and only one of three grandchildren, it probably says a lot about how children were seen on that side of the family. I have no rancor about this, a matter of no real consequence to me. So, why was I dreaming of her, as a middle aged woman speaking to me kindly and in good English?

Augusted

Now used discarded
Disheveled, dusty, waiting
For the rains of fall.








(under the bed)

A thorough and thoughtful essay on the Gargle -- policy on "real names." Well worth the time, even if you were not considering joining.

August

August sits on me
Huge, hot, panting mass of dog.
I struggle to breathe.

Tectonic

Tectonic movement,
Sliding land, mudflow, earthquake.
One human lifetime.


Want to do another tao te ching, but it sticks.

Amy Winehouse joins the 27 Club. Sad, as all waste of humanity is, but not at all surprizing.

Harry Potter bores me. Read enough Pterry, and J.K. seems trite. I read the first two, or read the first one, skimmed the second, read first and last chapter of the third, and last pages of the forth. Mostly because I worked with people who read the series, and raved. I still don't quite get why, although if I'd read it as a ten year old to start, I'd have loved it, I'm sure. I loved The Hobbit, then the LOTR, re-reading it several times, until I was about 20. I read the whole Narnia series - which I would now be repulsed by. Some stories need to come at a certain point in life. And, even for those who found HP in adulthood, I have to assume they read along with their children, and maybe never got into fantasy as kids themselves. Anything to get anyone reading is not a bad thing.

But, at some point, I realized I'd read a bellyfull of fantasy, and had enough. Not quite like when I was between grade 8 and high school, and was finally allowed to read from the adult side of the library. I decided to read through the romance shelves, in order. This was 1976, so nothing terribly racy, but suggestive, and very, very dysfunctional. And by the end of the summer, I was inoculated against ever reading romance novels again. I made an exception for the odd historical romance, or Eleanor Hibbert (in her many guises.) But, I vowed to never read another story that didn't stand on it's own again, trilogies in particular. HP is both, a sitcom that resets every book, and a multi-volume story, but it's all rather... tame? Inconsequential? A bit too much like one-thing-after-another picaresque adventure tale, signifying nothing. That everyone gets older, doesn't change how bland it all is. Night Watch stands alone, and packs more punch in one novel.


I have no objection to Harry Potter. But I hope it's young readers find other books to read. And don't just succumb to Star Trek fandom, with all the limitations thereof.

Sweet

Sweet warmth, mild breezes
Saunter softly, easily.
Summer's kindly face.

Feeling like utter crap myself, but that's a temporary and hormonally induced distressed, and I'll be fine in a day or so. D made pizza with pre-made small crusts and a lot of potent salsa, which helps quite a lot. He found How TV Ruined Your Life, which is amusing us immensely.

He's very good at finding good shit.

Once

So much loneliness.

Reach out a thousand times, more.

Just for that one time.

(Took photos, none turned out.)

Mute

Hush the intrusive,

Can't close your ears, mute button.

Listen to silence.

I keep the laptop on mute, unless I know I want to listen to something. I have a fast finger for the tv remote, never hearing ads at home. Noises are bothersome, because ears don't shut like eyes. I have little tolerance for loud sounds, and insistent ads leave me feeling downright hostile.

Realize

You do realize

I answer you with essays

When a stone won't do?

Law

A day with good flow.

No matter how much effort,

When everything works.

Law. In-laws. A way of referring to one's relations by marriage--mother-in-law, sisters-in-law, etc. In-law is short for in Canon law, the reference being to the degrees of affinity within which marriage is allowed or prohibited. *

Brewer's Dictionary of Phrase and Fable, 1963, p 537.

*Found looking for Lawks, which was not there, sadly.

Blotch

Thousands of muddy

Pawed cats swarmed over the glass.

Dusted rain v. car.

A roiling pressure

Tumbling winded power wave

Moving dirt about.

Recrystalized

Laid down and pressed hard,

Metamorphosed mud, tilted

Thrust up in strange skies.