Magic Oblivion

Lack of sleep brought these poems to me. I hope you enjoy them.

1.

Split open like a coconut ripped from a tree

oozing liquid that was thought to no longer exist

pooling onto the floor left for dead.

Answers the universe refuse to give.

Space time continuum

falling back into place.

Left on the side of the road alone and frightened

you’ve been here before, but its not the same

2.

Lost in a sea of lies, thighs and spies

we synthesize the track of bliss

to end no longer with a kiss

years you may have to miss

will no longer exist

3.

The sweet scent of woman, man and sea

coalesced under the birds screaming from above

danger awaits, but is lovingly placed on the shelf

locked up for no one but essence of infactuation

4.

Collide on the skin with every note

Abend the twists and breaks

Experience mystical moxie exchanged on a whim

to be taken to an assent by a lover

who rewards with acumen so earnestly

Beasts, Savages…Survivors.

I just left the movie theater, and feel very odd. I decided to go see Beasts of Southern Wild. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was getting myself into. I just knew that when I saw the trailer a few times a while back it made me cry, both times. So I thought on this gloomy day, why not go to a crier? Ah nothing better than those damn movies that make you cry re: The Notebook.

All that being said, I did not cry. I was horrified instead. There were indeed some sad parts to the film, very very deep heart touching moments, but mostly it was horrific. The film was about a group of adults and a few children who choose to live in “the bathtub” after Katrina. They lived in shacks, shambles and booze. These people were not role models to the younger generation by any means. They were rowdy, loud, brash, drunk, abusive and most of all fucked up. While I was watching all this, I also found a beauty in them. They were a community who stuck together. They may have been drunks but they always looked out for each other, and when a storm came and destroyed their homes, they rebuilt, with what they had. These people were warriors, troopers, strong. These lessons that the children were taught were priceless. How to fish, how to build, how to survive.

All these thoughts got me going, and really thinking about society today. What would half of America do if Katrina happened to them? People wouldn’t even know what to think or do. A small percent of the whole population is super rich, and so used to people taking care of them. Or being able to go buy anything they want. We are so wasteful and spoiled as a society. It makes me ill. I make me ill. I was watching this and in the beginning kind of judging them. “ugh how gross, ewe, oh my god that house” were thoughts running through my mind. Luckily the thoughts that followed were “wow what an amazing young girl, I am so lucky, I am blessed to have a home and good food to eat”. I know a lot of my blogs are about thankfulness and gratitude, but I just need to share these thoughts. Spread the love per se.

I thank you for even reading this, and I hope that somehow, someway they help you find your gratitude as well.

ramble on

The moon shines brightly into my bedroom

its midnight and i just returned home from an evening of artistic treasures. 

Charles Bukowski is my inspiration for these words, as he taught me any thought pure and innocent can and should be written. 

in the reflection of my window I see my paintings.

As they stare at me i am reminded of how i have let that side of me go

I should get back to expressing myself in the painting medium. 

the trees are sillotued by the city lights and the near full moon

the crazes will come out soon enough, as they do every two weeks 

when the moon reaches its brightest. 

the currents are pulled deep as well as our emotions. 

my only wish for this evening is to fall asleep, being as the americana did not sit well.