the outsider.

i don't care

if i'm within

the circle.

i don't care

if i'm heard.

or well known,

respected or

regarded.

i don't care

if i'm invited.

or added.

or friended

and befriended.

or defriended.

i don't care anymore

if my ticks show

if my voice cracks

if i am stupid

or crazy or last

in a long line of fools.

i don't care

if the nerves show

if my face reddens

or if the hives grow.

i don't care

if my heart beats

through my fucking chest

so hard you can see it.

i will tear out this silicone ribcage

to show you the mechanics of loving this deep.

you can look... or not...

i just don't really care.

but i do really care about you.

we went on a robbing spree. we stole stars and clouds and patches of grass. we pulled apples off trees and slept in flower beds. at night electric trains circled our campsite. i washed my hair in a bird bath. louis took a rain shower. we made jewelry from hubcaps and soda pop cans. we french kissed under a sparrows nest and took naps in a fox hole.

and we never spoke. we only sang.

distance matched

a lit cigarette

glued to my ideas.

i'm telling you the truth so shut up.

already you run already you spit

small drops of tears of rain

of hurricane.

hang in there

but first. listen.

hang on to me.

please always

until i don't have a point.

until i am spinning out past the borders

until my makeup has disappeared

skin un-ironed.

the last of my crying a smudge on a sleeve

the last time i tried

you couldn't breathe

we were kicking and playing chicken

and reading

into things

it was great stuff.

you turned around and faced me.

you folded what was left of my heart

up under yours.

there is safety in numbers.

baby.

shrug.

there are days. when i weaken.

when doing the right thing does not measure

up to the sofa cushion of your lips.

my ear against your chest

can hear an ocean.

an earth. a rotation.

a drum circle.

pulls me back in

there's a dance off

and you win.

and i'm your bitch again.

my slim rapper.

maybe i need you.

if bracing yourself

softened the smash,

i would tell you to do that.

but you have to dive into the crash.

has the moon been full for a month?

have i gotten over anything ever?

are these questions or statements?

THE MOON HAS BEEN FULL

FOR A MONTH

i am not over anything. never.

i declare my declarations

i'm unprepared to offer

anymore information

but i do

do i?

i do

i do

i did and i will

i can and i still...

Wedding Cake

i walked to you

on younger legs

long for short

my heart- hoped for everyone.

i was cream

light for heavy

i spilled for anyone

but spoiled

and oh october eyes

attached and disfigured

melting at the hip

the years like one tornado

this connection was beyond

us and always

just as it was broken

your tears were

my body of water

and i was yours.

wedding cake.

have you ever been on an airplane in a half nap.. all sleepy and stupid, staring blankly at the back of the seat in front of you and you might just as well be in a waiting room at the dentist rather than one of 200 bodies smashed into this noisy jet when suddenly you remember that you are actually just a one hundred pound very breakable human, being flown through the clouds at hundreds of miles an hour, in a pretty heavy metal box that only stays up based on a limited amount of fuel that keeps ... shit i have no idea how it stays up ...

here! the Physics Factbook says it better...

All four models uses the jet engine which operates on the principle of Newton's third law of motion, which states that for every action, there is an opposite but equal reaction. A jet sucks air into the front, squeezes the air by pulling it through a series of spinning compressors, mixes it with fuel, and ignites the fuel, which then explodes rearward with great force out through the exhaust nozzle. This great rearward force is balanced with an equal force that pushes the jet engine, and the airplane attached to it, forward. Thrust is the force that propels an airplane forward through the air. It is provided by the airplane's propulsion system in this case by a jet engine.

that's how i feel right now. like i just realized how fast we're going. and how high up we are.

we are so difficult

you and i.

the boy and girl of us

all mixed up.

i get mad and old

i try to run

your hand holds mine

loosely

but faithfully

loyalty being everything to me.

and one of your

distinguishing qualities.

but who is where

is what is how?

and when are you coming over?

i want you here now

today was one of those days that i could not manage much more than throwing one blind foot in front of the other. i bumped into things. i said yes when i meant no. i forgot whole sentences just two seconds after speaking them. i cried when i pulled back the plastic curtain after a steamy shower and cold air conditioning pulled the warm envelope from my naked body. everything changes like that. you wake up sleeping. you fall asleep awake. there is no safe place between the states. no period to prepare you. no little room to rest.. a soft bench and a soft drink. there's just insomnia and your deep dreams. light and dark. dawn is a trick.

Healing.

i started to heal the moment i realized i was lost.

i woke up. i opened my eyes and looked around. i had no idea where i was. i was hungry. and wet. my back was broken. my shoes were useless, my clothes too heavy. i spun in slow circles, surveying the vast expanse of darkness that surrounded me until i saw what i thought might be a light. it was very far away but looked possible to get to.. maybe it was a house, i thought. maybe they had food they would share, a bed, a shower. i felt a survival instinct like i'd never felt before. it flooded my whole being and i began to move forward. at first i moved very slowly. and backwards. i hit many things because i refused to turn ahead. i had convinced myself that if i lost track of where i had been i would never know where i was going, that i would never be able to get back there. so i moved forward at the slowest pace and kept my eyes steadfast on what was behind me. only briefly turning to make sure that i was still headed towards the faded and far off light.

i didn't seem to be on a path. i tripped over rocks and slipped into ditches. once, i even tumbled and fell to the ground so hard that i wasn't sure if i could continue. but i got up, injured. it wasn't long before i began to fear that the light would not be there when i turned around so i took to facing forward in the direction that i was actually moving, for at least a little bit. i traded off this way for awhile, calming myself with the security of seeing where i had been and also knowing where i was going. the light in front of me seemed to be getting closer. it was definitely getting brighter. a moon-like yellow. i became attached to that light and my backwards walks became shorter and shorter as i missed that sweet and calming light when i couldn't see it. it became easier to not look back and a couple of times when i turned i could just barely see where i had been. i paniced at first but then my need to get to the light turned me back around.

soon, where i had been was further away then the light ahead. and that light was getting close enough to be lighting the path ahead of me. what had once been rocky and black and blind.. shadows, was now a muted morning.. the very slight beginnings of dawn. and that dawn was a gentle warmth. my clothes were drying and softening and i could see almost clearly where i was going. it was an actual wide and marked path.. there were arrows and signs and even rest stops. wonderful places i could stop for a night or two and rest as i stayed on this path that was leading me to my bright destination.

I am writing this from one of those rest stops. they have taken me in for the night. or for however long i need to stay. all of the windows in this small room face the direction i have been traveling towards. light floods in through them letting me know that it is still there and that everything is exactly as it should be.

and i have begun to trust the light.

just got Mary Robinson's book of photographs in the mail.  her photography touches me...  it is haunting and lovely and has a stillness that is moving.  and she's only 17! 

i admire this young woman.

 

her blog: http://maryvrobinson.blogspot.com

Make believe stars

i remember when you were human

a song

i sung often.

when you were possibility

you arrived

in the shape of a gift

and introduced yourself to me.

and we kissed.

now i kiss

monkey wrenches

where your lips would be.

make believe stars

are out in the trash

behind a trashed painting.

and the cheap smell

of cheap leather,

is this poor condition.

hate like none other

none. ever.

blind pain.

how you made me suffer

a pony pendulum

between my breasts

it was never yours

never. ever.

ponies are mine.

Grown ups are strangers i know

the scratch that tells you how tall you were

when the kitchen was clean and smelled like pot roast

when squeezed grapefruit halves are at the top of the full garbage

and papa's shorts are drying in a cool twilight

above the stone bird bath.

and my grandmother is putting the candy where we can reach it

and i can't decide what to play with..

the orange teddy bear we all share

or the keys that i imagine will unlock a secret room.

when i hear the name josephine 

when i hear the name ann

when i hear the name dennis

and margaret

grown ups are strangers i know

Guts

lying is psychological abuse. it robs you of a security that we all deserve. it steals your basic right to make decisions based on the simple truth. when a person lies to you consistently, it changes who you are.. it kills the innocent trust in yourself that we are all born with. and, of course, if you can't trust yourself how can you ever trust another?

over the last year and a half i have learned more about lying than i ever could have planned on. and the wreckage has been extremely difficult to dig through. but i am beginning to trust others again and more importantly i am learning to trust my own gut. again.

bright sun is filling up saturday.

the house is messy and muddy.

it rained all week. 

  you rode here on your new bike 

  and tracked mud through the house.

it made me so happy.

up to something. obviously.

no good.

my heart does not recognize you anymore.

loveless.

is this being over it?

he says,

"those shoes make me

want to marry you."

he's a keeper.

something about tonight was perfect.  it started with the unicorn twilight raspberry sherbet sky.  it was ridiculous.  then Wilco's smile all the time came on the car stereo.  that's the moment i realized that something about tonight was perfect.  

i was driving east on fifth st. and trying to take a picture of the dropping pink horizon's reflection in my Frost building.  Half of it was the color of melted rhubarb and the other half was a gothic steel grey.  that's like my personality, i thought.  i was giggling as i snapped the photograph while rolling a reckless five miles an hour towards the stopped suburban just ahead of me at a red light.  i really wanted that picture.  but the picture i didn't get was even better.  

sometimes the thing that fits in the place we were trying to squeeze the thing that we didn't get can be so freaking beautiful. 

latte art.  abstract.

his eyes are a challenge

not to look at

they are film and stars

they switch

they flip me out

dark blue eyes. 

bitten.  touched.  blackened.

and they hold me.  

both eyes are honest

they get angry

they cry

they are a moon

eclipsed sometimes

by dark blue sky.

they also have the most beautiful smile.

everything is different now

all the clocks

are central standard time

jets are on the ground.

time flies by.

i suffered so much 

for someone that never cared

(she was right).

and everything is different now.

on the surface of the scar 

is a message

in braille

and only sweet love can read it.

           ***

i slept rotten as a child

i threw up in my sleep

i called out in my dreams

someone crawl into this bed 

and keep me company please!

and he comes.  tender

Words

when i can't find the words-

they find me.

my little princes

my horses 

my ponies.

some of the words are polite

they invite themselves in

bringing such delightful  

and delicate offerings.

the others are not so humble

they storm the gates

they are wild and hungry things

in love with the trouble they make.

but i need each one

they are my odd medicine

sweet bittersweet salve-

love and poison.

i asked him to stop fucking the jazz singer 

so we could have a chance.

truest love.

i was standing under a rainbow in the flipping rain.

crying and laughing in my splashing clogs.

they filled with water and i weighed one hundred and sixty

and seventy and eighty and then one thousand pounds.

violet violence.

dear peter pan

please stop fucking the jazz singer 

so we stand a chance.

i think he said no but he was kissing me 

and my mouth filled with flowers

i went blind from beauty

and forgot the question.

oh. yeah.  

will you please stop fucking the jazz singer?

but he grabbed me

and we danced.

he kissed me again 

his mouth a green and rotten apple.

 

Chances were.

he tells me,

"we had our chance"

and i wonder when that was.

and how i missed it 

when a chance was all i ever wanted.

"we had our chance," he said.

and i thumb through the beginning.

and the middle.

and then the end.

and i wonder when.

when was that chance we had?

because i wanted it so so bad.

Grief is in it's hiding place

mostly

moving unseen

under my skin

it has no formal rhythm.

it is a rough diamond

a lover

and a thief

this time i invite it

my dear grief.

i let it come through

the door of my mouth

my eyes are cracked windows 

   and it cries me an ice house.

   and it whites out the lighthouse

   moves all of the stone walls. 

then just quiets and melts.

at night i seem drunk.  but it's just my penchant for dreaming

Speaker of the house

my guitar tells me secrets

it expects me to sing

sometimes such garbage

sometimes such lovely things

it predicts fire

it predicts lavender

a truth slinger  

my truthsayer

it plays the fool that i will be

each time i fall for his beauty

knowing the lazy bum that i am

the real fucking deal 

the obvious scam

my guitar feels it before me 

like animals and earthquakes

love can't decide

if i'm a woman or a girl

i hold my own hands and splash 

water on my face.

HEART

called me out

into the thick august air

a child insomniac

laying wide awake

in the driveway

under sticky rice paper stars

at three a.m.

at four

at five, and then

i am eye level with the orange sliced horizon

i am the lone audience 

to the great sparrow sing-a-long.

i sneak back into the house

i flip through a graphic medical journal 

until my eyes begin to ache

A CHILD INSOMNIAC

i am spinning

oblong

downtown

pizza crust on the dashboard

spiritual fallout on the way home

there's nothing wrong with my quiet heartbeat

there's nothing done inside of me

there's nothing all that angry

to be sure

i'm alive

i'm gonna be a dream for someone

oh someday someday

but today is today

and i am just real.

my heart is exhausted.

Yarn

did i begin

or did i end

the soft links of a loose chain

rubbed crochet

there is little time to wrap ourselves through each other

and there is more space then time

more time than minutes

we lose the grip of each other's

long and broken fingers

we close our eyes 

and recognize 

bumper cars

light as a feather stiff as a board

i sold the piano for money

from my kitchen.

to a toe headed two year old.

her mother handed me a thousand dollars in cash and promised another thousand later.

she asked me to trust her.

i reminded her that i not only had the one thousand dollars in cash but i also still had the piano.

her daughter pulled a brass horse off my book shelf and covered it in a dress shirt i had thrown over the back of the couch.

the brass horse was now tucked in and napping on the floor.

i wasn't sure if i hated the child or not.

i was perplexed that her mother did not tell her to stop touching my things and to behave.

but the one thousand dollars was very good babysitting money.  

do not mistake what you throw away for loss.

Evergreen

sometimes i still check for my wedding ring.  unconsciously i stretch my thumb across the palm of my hand to give the thin gold band a gentle press.  i caught myself reaching for it early this morning as i left for work.  the sky was leftover purple..  a smiling moon hung inches from the last stubborn stars.  everything has changed but everything i have ever loved is still inside of me..  repeating itself in ticks and counter clockwork tears.  

anchor, anchorless

a prayer.

that one day

i will know why 

but that until then

i will not need to know.

Damage

i go cold

snap

it happens so fast

these days

i turn on 

i turn off.

damage like weather

sudden and violent

or the lazy and poisonous opposite.

i jump ship

i drag close

i am done 

i am not 

i am over 

an invisible anchor.

i carry the weight

of the fear 

of your sins 

i have never felt this before

how human we all are.

Ten minutes upstairs

sometimes blueberries help.

sweet breath.  soft bite.

draw me pretty

and apologize

lay me down on your new rug and 

take care of me for a little while

vow to be patient

i will too

i will pledge my kiss to you

The creek

i have cried so much.

i have cried in the dark

i have cried myself to sleep

i cried in silence

i have cried in the shower

i have cried on the floor

i cried pumping gas

i cried laughing. unraveling

i cried until my face was numb

i have cried at red lights

i have cried all night

i cried swimming

i cried a river in the river

i cried a creek

i cried on stage

kissing, i cried. he didn't know

how much i cried.

i cried for nothing.

"Try to be humble in your acceptance of someone else's frailties or trials and tribulations.  There is much about you that others don't understand, and yet they have faith in you anyway."    

      ....a little bit of my horoscope today.  

so true! and such a great reminder for me.  i hope i can offer others the same empathy, kindness and faith that others offer me.  

maybe i will be happy after all. 

choice is like that.

a maybe you control.

Because i am needy

i will need a few things from you...

Call me by my name.

Listen to my stories sometimes.. even though they annoy you sometimes.

Tell me your truth

not the truth i want to hear

but the truth you are living.

Let me explain something if i know more about it than you.

Kiss me a lot.

If you need more kisses please tell me.. with your lips..

Ask me to do things for you.  i need to be reminded.

Understand that i'm terrified.  of almost everything.  until i am brave.

and then i am very very brave.

Play me ragtime on the piano.

Love me until you don't.

don't be angry when i say things like, "love me until you don't."

Wear the red pants.

Tell me your dreams even when i'm tired.  

Come over tonight and hold my hand on the couch.

lost.

1989

los angeles, 

train yards.

who am i anymore

cherry juice dripping river down my fingers.

drying dark blue.  lips. 

black coffee grounds under my nails

too tired to pick up my guitar

i care.

i still care.

my ambition like a ghost

peripheral harmony

disarming me

get the fuck away from me.

please. 

i dream

and i'm angry

happiness seemed to come out of nowhere

but i think it was in me all along.

i can be okay

even without answers

with never knowing

nor understanding

i can take this brand new heart

and let it be loved again.

even though there 

is another one.

my last heart

a dying song.

i am learning about myself

every day

still

i wake up doped on dreams

mascara smudged into the lines around my eyes

black hooded sweatshirt pulled up over my mothers haircut

squinting for any sight at all

chanting like a drunkard

coffee coffee coffee

moving towards the light

and the life

eager to learn how to live right 

today

eager to do the next right thing 

today

today today today

is this the groundlessness they speak of?

sheer drops on either side

fear stretching slim in front of me and falling for three miles

yet i stand up straight here

so very much alive.

when i think of mad love

i will always think of you

a stitch in my lop side

a tug at my deep chest

baby i really tried.

mine is a plain to see heart

mine is a scaredy cat

mine is a surprise party

all the time.

The Raising

there are no babies coming

my belly has no baby room

but a dirt house is being built

a new home on flattened land

old property

raked earth

pushing

feeding

raising

mud caked wall i'm so tired

my eyes are closing 

i watch all my friends become mothers

just set up shop in my heart and i'll be happy

i didn't even mean that.  at the time i did, yes, but now i feel different. 

if only i could write something that i meant for longer than it took to write it.  

i saw you in the dense light of my dreams

last night.

you were running away from me.

i was crying.

sometimes it is not what we are ready for

but what we are capable of.

my truth was always true.

last night 

i saw you in the dense light of my dreams.

you were running away.

i was crying.

prairie dog

my lips are beginning to believe again.

the pieces of the woman that i was

find their way back to each other

as we kiss. 

as you memorize my face

with your curious fingertips

shadow earthquakes 

are my harrowing tic's.

you're touch is medicine 

and i am healing 

under it.

what is real anymore?

silence

black eyeliner i can't throw out

a jewel hued dress.. balled up in a plastic tub 

under t-shirts i took for souvenirs 

from concerts i played.  in some other lifetime.

was that real?

my 45's.

The Beatles, The BeeGees, 

Bette Midler,

Chicken Fat.

my mother exercised to that one in her thirties.

singing along 

singing about her 'chicken fat'

i sucked my thumb from my fathers nubby chair.

quiet and pleased.  as my mother lay on her back 

with her legs in the air.. doing the bicycle.

was that really me?

what is real anymore?

when you love something so much that you vow

to never betray it. 

a horse i groomed relentlessly.. sharing apples with him,

bite for bite.  horse slobber mixed into my chapstick.

the happiest i have ever been.

that was real. 

and what were we my dear? 

with no memories to recall

with no moments to rely on for evidence 

like smelling salts is the absolute lack

of resonance.

but a feeling i trusted and followed

only to find nothing.

nothing was real.

Two birds

a bluebird

a blackbird

one on each shoulder

twins.

both birds sing 

one sweet, one dark

birds nesting in my heart

they won't fly.

the daybreak

the heartache

and just below them both

the floodgates.

both birds sing

one sweet, one dark

birds nesting in my heart

they won't fly....

i'm deaf

can you hear me >

i'm hard to listen to

when i'm hollering. 

when i'm protesting.

baby

light the virgin de gaudalupe

drive slow.

pass the mural of Cesar Chavez

stop at the seven bridges...

there is a lake on fire

with your image outlined in flames

one disastrous smile 

is still rippling 

around me

such fucking beauty.

stupid birthday party

The 5th

in a few days this will pass

i keep telling myself that.

another holiday will fade

paper firecrackers 

and birthday cake

and the same stupid wish

that i always make

as i lead the pack 

in my personal pity parade.

it will pass.

i know that.

my neighbors in the apartment across from me are drinking beer and blasting southern rock while shooting bb guns off their front porch.  i live in texas.  

Missing

i have the strongest emotion

but no words for it 

just the feeling of you.

a loneliness.

ocean eye.

shoe

  gazer

my future has become my past.

i sing my 

parachutes

Still

there are things i will never understand

and i have stopped trying.

i drove to the furthest bridge i could find

and pushed those heavy questions

like boulders, grey and weighted,

into the deep water.  

now i stand at the cold river's edge 

and i wonder... 

i am not so crazy

i am just a wild animal

my lawless heart beats like a wrecking ball

it blows up in flames spontaneously

and then just as quickly it retreats. 

quietly. 

i am very strong.

i am very weak.

you can only be both!

if you are only one.. 

you are incomplete.

The wolf

there must be a full moon 

my heart has become a wolf

it eats me alive

looking for you.

to play with then kill

to suck life blood

to softly slip it's claws into

oh the pretty face that haunts me

the midnight year of tears 

on my bedroom floor

rocking like your child.

my dirty carpet soaked in 

worthless tears.

love abandoned for lust

beauty mistaken for truth

risk mistaken for hope.

you tasted eternal.

Furniture

i don't know why 

i care so much

blow the dust off my fingers

lick the stamp mail the letters.

love is

the point of no return

just like that we're bound for life

star crossed on a starless night.

 

we belong in a pipe dream

in a paint box

we belong somewhere no sun 

will ever bleach us

after all these years

we're still worth something

like fine, fine furniture.

i don't know how

but i remember it all

like it was yesterday

like it was tomorrow.

you try 

harder than anyone i know

you left and i left too

back then

i didn't know how to hurt you.

we belong in a window

in a shoe box

we belong somewhere

no one can ever use us

do you know you are 

still good underneath?

like fine, fine furniture.

i pray a little harder tonight

for the people that i love tonight

they're falling apart slowly

covered around me.

we belong in a frame 

in a cigar box

we belong somewhere 

no one can ever sell us

rest your heart i am still standing here..

we belong in a hope chest

in a locket

we belong somewhere 

no one will ever lose it.

after all these years

you still belong to me

like fine, fine furniture...

copyright 1999

kacyCrowley

Furniture

(from the "Anywhere But Here" soundtrack)