I'm holding a hammer.
And there is blood on
the bathroom tiles.

Looking in the mirror,
staring at the deep scratches
across my face,

I know that something isn't right.

In the room next to me,
a 'Nurse with Wound' record plays.

The volume is up,
but not high enough to silence
the screaming girl.

I found her drunk in a park,
I dragged her home.
We dropped acid.

I put the record on.

We got naked,
she was junkie thin.
Wide-eyed and feral.

...then I hit her.
She must have fought back.
Or tried.

Because now,
I'm holding a hammer.
And there is blood on
the bathroom tiles.

My blood.

This time I went too far.

she dreams of fiery reckless heavens
underneath a patchwork cut-out sky,
contours in the dark amid worlds

(her laugh is brazen, it chimes true)

there are splinters of gold
in his inky eyes that hold the sea
speak of a puzzle that they weave

their languid dance batters against the dusk
with a quiet imperfection 
a bruised charisma 

(drinking of heroes and philosophers)

a butterfly brews the storm of ethereal kismet 

she knows them beneath her eyelashes
the arch of his wings
the elusive bones that curve wildly

but she dreams it better when-
there is such an elysian
intertwined between their fingertips.

music: Sound Of Pulling Heaven Down- Blue October

i_hope_that
For many of us, the holidays can be kind of rough. If you're searching for a network of understanding friends, this ultra-nurturing community encourages you to express your heartfelt wishes and offer other members encouragement and acceptance. Not for the terminally snarky or emotionally-challenged, this is a good-spirited place to lend comfort and support.

tags: i_hope_that, support, wishes

diygifts
Feeling crafty? If you've got a few last folks on your holiday gift list, this is a great place to seed your creativity and generosity. You'll also discover wonderful DIY tips to decorate your home and entertain guests. Offering a no-frills-no-skills attitude that welcomes the cash-challenged and arts-phobic, you're sure to get ideas and make friends in the process.

tags: crafts, diygifts, do it yourself

cooking_club
A fun and friendly community dedicated to those who love to cook, whether you're a meat-and-potatoes type, an aspiring gourmand, and/or a vegan. In search of a brilliant dish to use up those weekly leftovers? Post your ingredients and you'll be whipping up a feast by dinner. You can also share favorite recipes. For Type A chefs, you can spice up your culinary repertoire with exciting cooking challenges.

tags: cooking_club

this poem opens itself with a knife.
"
using the knife like a scalpel,
the body is split
"
open
"
bleeding all over
the guts are a tangle
and littered with vestigial bits:
"
this love is like no other;
a stone on the hill like the sun on the horizon;
light over water;
the bombs bursting in air;
zang tumb tuuum;
before the law;
Major Major Major Major;
and so on.
"
its origin must be lowly;
its designer must be feeble;
it must have been a blind watchmaker--
this results from hearing about Giants' shoulders,
their hands counting the seconds
while nothing has happened but the obsession with...
"
but it had come too late.
there was nothing it could do.

Um, I guess this poem has nihilistic themes... that may offend.

( ... )

The Neighbor

'Let's go next door'
but the Neighbor is looking over the hedges
August is the cruelest month
and when he sings the blues
he sings it to his dog
Maybe I should go round
'You have a nice voice, want to dance?'
but his catch phrase isn't that interesting
If I knew his name
Maybe I would drop by
and leave a note
his fence dips low, just enough to put my head off
Is that him behind the jasmine?
looking awkward
searching for an answer
to some question
singing a love song
that has no end
It just dribbles off his tongue
and falls flat
'Pick up that tempo'
Maybe there will time later
I think that is him now
knocking on my door
a cigarette falling off his lips
I don't think I will answer
cause when I hear him singing
I know he loves himself

As the Sun this morning rose, Mother woke:
Her thoughtflowers reverently praised Him, while
Her treefingers danced delightfully
To the songs of love-birds in play.

The wind she helped comb Mother's lush hair,
And on it planted pretty pearldewdrops
Then, effortlessly, swiftly,
Laced it with browngreen leafy bows.

As she puffed her face with scents of Spring
The earthworms uncreased her earthy skin.
When all ready, she blushed warmly, and
Spun around shyly to half-hide from Him her beauty.

As the Sun this morning rose, Man woke:
In grumbling groans set off to work.

stepstomarrow
When granddaughter, Jada, was born with leukemia, a donor-match was located and Jada made a miraculous recovery. In honor of her grandaughter's health, Jeanna has decided to walk across the country (in the dead of winter) to raise awareness and build support for the bone marrow registry (all that's required is a cheek swab). Follow Jeanna's remarkable journey as she travels the United States by foot.

there is no world
no universe

there is only 
the one room
with only 
the one window
and the one set of drapes
and the one breeze
blowing across your face

there are no memories
just the sense 
that everything already happened
and you missed it

you were in the bathtub
soaking in fear

you forgot to rejoice
you had no memory
you had only the want

you know this
but remember

the want always wants

and when you can no longer serve the want

you'll be left alone by want
in the one room
with the one window
and the one breeze
with no memories
just a sense 
that everything already happened
and you missed it

ahead of you
the mountain looms larger
and this is cause for alarm
and behind you 
the echoes of laughter 
the warmth of a kiss upon your cheek
and this is cause for sadness

and yet
neither reach out far enough 
to touch you
and though they heckle from the sidelines
and intimidate with their cackles
they know their own limitations

the great fear 
of tomorrow 
and of yesterday 
is that you will realize 
in this moment
neither can touch you

You Are To Me

Like a drumbeat
Clear and loud
Through miles of fog and lots of sound
Like a lightbulb
Turning on:
Sharp relief from shadows

Caught between ending and starting
Days follow nights follow days
Moving and tumbling and reeling
Spinning circles inside a maze

Like a bird's wings
Opening up
To soar; to fall;
To hope for more
Like a motor's starting purr
A goodbye, a return, a chance
That's what you are to me

You're the sun out on the horizon
Rising or sinking, no one can say
You're the moon, orbiting an orbiting globe
And never seen in the day

You're like curry
Spicy and warm
Familiar and foreign
At once
And you're like a singer's
Encore song
The cherry on the whipped cream

We're caught between ending and starting
Our days follow nights follow days
We're moving and tumbling and reeling
Spinning circles inside out maze

There today no more than here yesterday:
Hearts who rush on express lanes, so to stay
Together - so little, more like apart,
more like least understanding of whose heart.

Whose heart we take whose heart that is offered,
If hearts know not to own? To whom owing
Promises of love, or unrequited
Dreams: No more, no less than hollow shells' songs.

Songs of mere promises, more sweetly sung
To empty ears? Eyes see not what is heard
By hearts that beat quick in vacuumed spaces:
Unheard, less than a love whispered in sleep.

In sleep, all men die and begin to dream
Of things they understand least; most by hearts,
Of love and songs sung for other hearts lived
There today no more than here yesterday.

Equal night; balance of Earth

Our symmetry is nature
the sweet color of spring, that winter brings

Magnetic; together by force

Your virtue is my flaw
your failing is my tact, opposites attract

Oceans merge into breathing rivers;
A new life is born

I hung my heart upon a string
hung my head and watched it swing
morbidly
I took it down
lifeless
and thus useful now

--Will I Dare Look In His Eyes?--
will I raise my gaze to meet the rays
ebbing from his ocean eyes?
will I meet the warmth
that pierces the storm
crashing on these craggy lies?
will I
do I
dare meet his eyes?
stand staring at another life?
the person that I almost was
before courage broke the jungle's laws?