Sunday, May 31, 2009

neighborhood strole

wind hammocks the leaves, sun's warm breath.

Spending a Sunday off. Quiet communion with a lazy day, I step in the shade, still like a cool breath tickling the nape...

I wander through the seasons mixing, churning up the change growing. Makes me smile as we walk through spring to summer. This earthball hearth warming. But for now hints of everything. Hehehe. I'm game.

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

sketchbook: flipping the ugly

This Time
Recalibrate chi!
Tolerant arms fade to weak
I need to be held.

Seasons Mocked
(the same old grasshopper's story)
Promised blossoms grow
Sweet scent suckles the lovers –
The New tomorrow

Love ripens, fruit grows –
epicurean sunshine
Lovers turn the page

Layers shed away
Bleeding roots exposed
Moirai’d tolerance

Augured graupel –
a base falsetto blights &
Mocks the distant sun.

Turn your eyes away
There is nothing to see here
Gyrl, you're not special.

Arbitrators deem
gleemed this page unlikeable
Gyrl, you're not special.

The gyrl not special
Heard this rhetoric before –
Epitaphs written.

Crossed Ts Dotted Is
Writing the script to goodbye
Gyrl, you’re not special.

My advice
When ugly presents
Wants to rub its funk on you
Spit & flip it off.

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

on karma

if karma can do
let it offer empathy
toward all those touched

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

loitering with rain clouds

I start my day with the traces of my neighbor packed in boxes settled on the ground outside. She's heading east on the Mit, hanging in A2 for a while. So, we drink our coffee cheers-ing the past two years of porch time and circles, local music and fried brownies. Distance not far, we know we'll see each other soon enough, no goodbyes but see you later as we hug our experiences and start our days.

The day pearls under humid clouds, my thoughts trail to the storm suckled under wind as I head inside to get the next batch of laundry, another shelf dusted. I list my day, things I want to get done, no moving for me today. I decide I'd rather be outside loitering with the rain clouds growing, so I head to the coffee shop.

There is nothing like an Italian almond to lighten the mood, I text my gyrlfriend who sends me smushes and love to make me feel better. I myface and chat with other interlopers at the coffee shop and head to the bookstore. I can buy postage there to send out my rent payment. A friend's gyrlfriend takes my cents while she introduces us finally. I thank her for putting my panties in her mailbox that were left in her gyrlfriend's car. Um, no its not like that! She and I joke about the panties purchased for my own gyrlfriend left in the bag in her gyrlfriend's car and then she tells me I ring good in the ears of our circles. I smile and head outside into the storm enclosing the horizon, I feel held by the rising humidity in the air.

I head to the activist space to use the computer. I want to write my mother as our last interaction crowds my own horizon. Its been days now of suckled thought, hurting like a punched gut. I've been waiting for the sting to dissipate only to watch it grow into this thunderstorm brewing not ready to break. Its not the gay thing hurting me. I can handle a momma whose dealing with gay fear. Fear is like a virus, it infects everything. The best cure is nurturing the immune system, building antibodies to push the infection out. Nurture my Mother in her fear, hell yeah. My hurt with my Mother feels more insidious then that. This isn't the first time my mother told me to go be invisible. Invisible. Not worthy to be there. Callously dismissed and for my mother as a punishment for hurting her. ME Gay = hurt Momma. The problem is, I've done nothing wrong. There is nothing I can apologize for. I wouldn't want to anyway. Ah, but I find myself writing a post to procrastinate the subject, so I decide to head outside and hang with the storm clouds...


Sunday, May 3, 2009

Don't Come Home

My mother calls me up last night and tells me I cannot come home with my girlfriend. She says that my brother will be hurt and embarrassed if people find out I am gay. When I try to reassure her that everything will be okay, she ups the ante and tells me I cannot return to my hometown for 5 more years and if I do, both my parents will disown me.


Mind you my parents have come along way. Here, here and here are good examples. But damn, if this doesn’t feel like a setback. And I feel hurt. Hurt and angry. :(.