12292010

yesterday: i didn't sit in my office to write. or at my kitchen table. or in any of my other usual writing places. instead. i sat in my dining room. on the floor. beneath the window. in the warm blaze of sun rays streaming through the curtains. back straight up against the wall. legs bent at the knees. journal and pen in hand. and i wrote. and i wrote. and i wrote. and when i had finished writing all that my thoughts were willing to give i cracked my knuckles and made a conscious decision, as i always do, to go back and read what i had written. and as i read. i realized: where we are affects how we receive. how we perceive. and what we deliver.

12282010

last night

i winked

at the stars

and they

(oh stars

how could

they not?)

winked back

12272010

manipulation is as old as creation

and how vibrantly it still survives!

powerful, not by its own devices

but by those who keep it alive

though the tragedy is not that manipulation lives

but that it believes itself a winning card

or maybe those who manipulate

believe themselves the winners

the scorers, the smart

insults to the intelligence

i don't appreciate them

i don't receive

i don't indulge

i don't oblige

instead

without a moment's pause

without a second thought

i discard

12262010

night dreams come 

in unexpected inhalations

i swallow them

i choke on them

they impose

i bow down

i don't rise

they are my jailers

they hold the keys

***

daydreams come

in expected exhalations

i propel them

i expel them

they oblige

i lift them

i drop them

they are my puppets

i pull the strings