Tuesday, December 7, 2010

heavy with grief, so weighted
that my head hangs
and shoulders sag.

what is so fair about this life...

Friday, December 3, 2010

montanan

friday night, 10:30.
long day. i woke up early to find a foot of freshly fallen snow on the ground. after brushing the snow of my buick with a swifter...yes, thats right...i drove 15 miles to work, passing cars in the ditch.
my trusty steed did me well. my blue suede shoes.
after a good 10 hours of productivity, i came home and reshoveled my walkway with a mouth full of sunflower seeds.
inhaled my leftover phyllo dough spinich pie and headed to the Ellen theatre.
a christmas carol debuted tonight. my seat was E101, one of the better ones in that there was an empty space in front of me to stretch my feet...which i didn't utilize, but still nice. it was so sweet. great acting, heartwarming. giggles. laughter. and the ellen. the ellen is so beautiful in its vintage lore.
driving home, and a bit lonely...i tossed back and forth the idea of going out...but my sensibility took over the reins and i came home.
turned on the computer, checked to see if bozeman mag. had published my article...and alas, they did...including my first poem.
which goes something like this;

“We are here together you and I,
that feverish summer well’s run dry.
She came in hot and went out cold,
Teased you a bit just like fools gold.

Now you’re left with me, my friend
With any season, I will gladly contend.
Tell me, what is your hearts delight,
And please, by all means, be forthright.

Is it weaving through a bed of trees
Bouncing off powder on two skis?
Maybe you prefer to ride a board
Shredding through terrain unexplored.

Either way, if that’s your love,
These types of things that I speak of,
Take my frosty hand and follow me,
Bundle up tight, and lets go ski.”

made me smile.
because it is sprinkled with personal metaphors.

goodnight world.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

alice

lately i have been traversing old but familiar territory, in my mind, in search of dark places willing to host my extravagent pre-planned pity parties, complete with whine and cheese.

these wonderlandish perverbial 'tea parties' welcome many distressing thoughts.

inviting cruel, untrue, and potentially debilitating satirical prose.

this entourage of self-defeating mad hatters needs to be slowly yet assuredly jettisoned. So that this dark path and place in my mind slowly disappears leaving truth and light in its place.