two poems.

i love you-
           don’t come so close!

near-death plus rebirth on higher level in serious occult orders – such performances are not mere rituals but real ordeals.  ‘insofar as possible within the law, the candidate is often brought to a state of terror similar to the emergency condition of the nervous system in near death crisis.  what occurs then, and is experienced as rebirth, is a quantum jump in neurological awareness.  in leary’s terminology, new circuits are formed and imprinted.’ p.139 robert anton wilson’s cosmic trigger

too scared
or just don’t care
too scared
or just don’t care
too scared
or just don’t care…
(this loops for as long as the amount of flowers you pick up for it.)

poetry accepted for publication when i was away in austin.

i took a walk to the harcourt nature preserve today to fight winter disconnect.  it was warm out but not sunny like i’d hoped.  took the snowy path and looked at the small sticks, broken branches and pine needles that lay like letters down to the preserve.  walked to the bridge and stood there listening.  the water was frozen over, footprints across it so it must have been pretty solid.  i thought about all of the little creatures sleeping underneath, waiting for spring.  i watched the littlest bird singing her heart out at the top of her lungs, three notes at a time.  i watched her dancing frantically between the leafless trees and thought about how small her voice was, top of her lungs, in all that heavy quiet.  then it started to sleet, but softly, like icicle kisses on my face and hands.  i looked around at the trees, and stared for a long time at one to the right of the path up the bridge.  it looked like m’s ‘lonely tree’ on dug road, dead, with thick, peeling layers of old bark.  this one was wrapped in a tangle of long slender arms from the tree beside it, which seemed to be hugging it but in a way that the first tree could barely be seen beyond its embrace.  the first tree was shaped like an enormous tuning fork, and i wondered how it could tune in anything without the filter of all of that growth clinging around it.  at the top of each tower, was a circular hole through which the light from outside filtered in.  if the tree were a person the holes would be in its hands, stretching up toward the sky.  it stopped hailing as i looked at these.  it seems to me that there is no way for this tree to channel the light appropriately unless the tree-that-is-reaching-around-it has good intentions, since it doesn’t seem like she could ever escape its embrace.

http://www.prickofthespindle.com/poetry/4.4/auslander/suitable.htm

finally picked up the collapsed clothing rack full of dresses that’s been laying on my floor covered in clothes.  funny how something as simple as establishing order in your bedroom can make you feel saner.  therapist having me write my way through the day and account for all time spent doing/thinking about what.  this is i think changing what i normally do and making me try to find concrete things to do so i can write them.  i don’t know if that’s the point.  but i’ve stressed to her i don’t necessarily want to stop ‘spacing out,’ i.e. thinking horizontally which society does not appreciate so much as the up an down…

whadda ya see, Audie?  (i don’t know why i called myself Audie)

this will be a good read.  i like you so far, macedonio.  i think maybe we see the world (sans time sans space) sometimes in the same way.