when i see you
I love you so much
and i understand impermanence

Let's walk through this together

"Let's walk through this together", she said, looking at the dog
and then him and then the hole in the fence.

She had asked him a thousand times to pay closer attention,
to notice things.
Today, he noticed the fence.

"I have to go", he said to her on the phone.
"Pen pals are a difficult thing to manage, you know".
I know.

I watched them walking through the fence, the small opening must've been cut
a long time ago cause there was orange-pink rust on the twisted parts of the metal edges.
She ripped her knit sweater, the dog was fine.

Remembering a time when I was in love with him makes my skin sensitive.
My dull headache has moved from the one side to the other.
When she told him that certain things didn't make sense to her,
he told me that it was normal.

Never knowing who had cut the hole in the fence,
I walked over there to investigate further.
Approaching the sharp opening, I slowed then stopped.

In terms of holes in fences this one was like the many others I'd seen.
Jagged, almost big enough for a body to fit through, and sloppily, or perhaps hurriedly, cut.
I rested awhile before crawling through.
I wanted to make sure i noticed everything about the hole.

dreamt of fears
standing strong
unrelational to waking except that they're here

dreamt of fears
lined up across the block
first thing, i'm not good enough to do that
second , they will take you away for what you've "done"

third, i wake up
stumble to the kitchen
smack closed the conversation
leave the door unlocked

fourth, get in the car
what was i dreaming
i don't even remember

fifth, coffee shop
thank god. it's Madonna and Meg

i eat breakfast
drink the coffee
sit down
stop and think and think more
and read and watch

and now it's the "afraid ofs" that mention themselves
on the page
first the thinking
then the machine

Could it have been more lucid?
Why won't it stop being that way
i keep dreaming in color so sharp that when i wake
it's dull

Drop your expectations at the door
What were you thinking?
Turns into...
A head shake
An eye role
Another, yet again, deep exhalation.
Born for the wilderness
Yet, caught up in this city life, coffee shop shit

I know I never really stopped to invite them in or not
It's just one of those things
That happens
And once in motion, can only be stopped by force
Unfortunately, the force was not mine

"Whatever", you say
"It makes no difference"
"Just leave your expectations at the door"
And really, I wasn't even aware that there was a door

Fuck.

Two sides of the same coin?

On the one hand, he gave me a compliment.
"I think", he said, "that that will just come through because it's part of who you are. It's what your soul is made of."

On the other hand, he handed me a resignation from hope.
"To get that across in any concrete way to kids, you know, it just seems like with them it's more about the basics. Maybe if you find yourself in the University you'd be able to do something like that."

I don't know what basics are, nor do i care.

weeping across destinations and floors alike

Weeping across destinations and floors alike
I hear her voice and my body, not my mind, wants to cry
As if they can ever really be separated.

My sins and salutations both regard judgment as it truly is
Just an idea that sometimes creates action
Sometimes creates false epistomologies
Random encounters

You take me in terms of what you believe me to be
And I do the same.
And we all do the same, and the same, and the same.

I weep across floors
I have destinations never realized
I have places locked and unlocked
I have no one and all of it.

That I see you is an intellectual act of faith
That you see me is a dispelling of the myth
I hear her voice and cave on the inside
weeping across floors and destinations

I use poetry to say what I can never actually get said
What you can never actually get heard
Hopefully some sort of feeling is transmitted
Hopefully I feel better
Hopefully I see you and me in this

Because without weeping, we may never know
Truly know
What it is to have reprieve.

I dance lines in ambivalence
The snow is real and falling
I use it to touch the sky
Or is it...the other way around?

I close my eyes every time I hear that one line from that one song:
And a deep desire to dust my chin with a finer ash
and the air got cold
and the sky got dark
and I kissed your lips with the safety off

What I know, is that I am beauty
And today I am very sad.
"Tie me down or I will run...
Tie me down and I will run".

Ambivalence, my forever friend.

Yes,I'm waiting for you to come in here.
No, at this point, I'm not that thrilled about it .
Yes, I knew right from the get-go that I knew better than to expect what I'm expecting.
No, that didn't stop me.

I don't know why I'm always so surprised by disappointment.
It seems pointless at this point,
to be surprised.
Maybe it's a sign of hope.

Fine.

Dear World,

I am returning my father issues. Here you go. I need freedom.
Thanks!

Signed,
lisa

Onobatu, Gold Coast and your backyard

I know now what the earth has known for years
To be enclosed,
captured,
taken apart and put back together in configurations only mimicking what was.

Against the will of the...of me
Skin ripped from bones
like meadows become factory sites
and the rivers become drains.

I am a living thing
With a re-formed, (de-formed) reality
violence, disposal, reposal.

Every hack blown to a tree
by a man called progressive,
Owner
is felt across my body
Blood, like sap, covers my creases, my lines.

Limbs, crippling relentless labor
An forest ripped apart
Dismembered, debowled.

My ancestors, friends, family
extracted one at a time
From my hold-eart
to fulfill the "Needs!" of another.

Fat Fucks.
I'm terrified but fueled.
A pretty little silent earthquake.
Epicenter: rage.

The earth and I are the same
The earth and you are the same
They have senses beyond
what dominion can destroy.

They compare me to animal
to earth
without seeing they are right
with wrong reasons.

Mercury, soot, Yellow #5
my dinner and yours
Oppression, rape, revenge
my dinner and yours.

The words for these beings,
just like fences,
are called Protection.

Cross-fire of a whistle

Cross-fire of a whistle

Oh, yeah.

It's just you and me in here.

And everybody else.