Saturday, July 3, 2010
Food Rule -1
feed your soul
only pure grade A
organic
natural
energy producing
music inspiring
giggle requiring
gdp decreasing
seretonin releasing
day after smiling
forever lasting
L O V E
only pure grade A
organic
natural
energy producing
music inspiring
giggle requiring
gdp decreasing
seretonin releasing
day after smiling
forever lasting
L O V E
Gorgeous
Smooth built body
Face that you can stare at for hours
every one crowds around them
where do this beauty gods come from?
Old Compton. Street on a Saturday afternoon
Soho London
I'm jus passing thru
To get to that Chinese noodle place
W the salty lemon soda
& buttery noodles that comfort more than potatoes
I share the table w two women
Who talk n soft deep voices about one
Of their pending break ups
The married one asks relationship questions
The break up one gives romance answers
Jasmine tea smoked chicken
Tastes special
& new
Sun reflects in tan colored oil drops
On a fake porcelain plate
I'm running out of time
Sitting in the changing breeze
Of London
Face that you can stare at for hours
every one crowds around them
where do this beauty gods come from?
Old Compton. Street on a Saturday afternoon
Soho London
I'm jus passing thru
To get to that Chinese noodle place
W the salty lemon soda
& buttery noodles that comfort more than potatoes
I share the table w two women
Who talk n soft deep voices about one
Of their pending break ups
The married one asks relationship questions
The break up one gives romance answers
Jasmine tea smoked chicken
Tastes special
& new
Sun reflects in tan colored oil drops
On a fake porcelain plate
I'm running out of time
Sitting in the changing breeze
Of London
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
the air was full
The air was full
Even though the sky
Doors opened yesterday afternoon
To Drop a dump of rain
That interfered w our meeting on
The tenth floor
It was a morning to sleep
While the air was cooler
And the sun hiding
Under a thin sheath of cloud
the sky was like the ocean
Wavy and changing
Bright white with blue sky hidden behind
A man with orange brown skin, curly hair swept the sidewalk in a blur jumpsuit
I looked at him he looked back and said good morning as he dumped the brush and dirt into the large truck
In the circle a blond woman with perfect red lipstick and rings on her yellow toes sat cross legged and too glamorous for us
On another bench a man and a woman in sandals and shorts
He held the watermelon half while she eyed it waiting for him to finish his words and xommence on scraping the bits of watermelon
It was 9:32 in the morni g
At the tip of the circle
A young man's back with broad shoulders
Covered by an orange polo shirt collar
Pushed up
Brown branded purse dangles low across his chest below his hip
He stops to help a Russian woman with nail polish red hair find massachusetts
Tuesday morning
Everything still moving too fast
Even though the sky
Doors opened yesterday afternoon
To Drop a dump of rain
That interfered w our meeting on
The tenth floor
It was a morning to sleep
While the air was cooler
And the sun hiding
Under a thin sheath of cloud
the sky was like the ocean
Wavy and changing
Bright white with blue sky hidden behind
A man with orange brown skin, curly hair swept the sidewalk in a blur jumpsuit
I looked at him he looked back and said good morning as he dumped the brush and dirt into the large truck
In the circle a blond woman with perfect red lipstick and rings on her yellow toes sat cross legged and too glamorous for us
On another bench a man and a woman in sandals and shorts
He held the watermelon half while she eyed it waiting for him to finish his words and xommence on scraping the bits of watermelon
It was 9:32 in the morni g
At the tip of the circle
A young man's back with broad shoulders
Covered by an orange polo shirt collar
Pushed up
Brown branded purse dangles low across his chest below his hip
He stops to help a Russian woman with nail polish red hair find massachusetts
Tuesday morning
Everything still moving too fast
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Caleb
It was a cool Saturday morning
The fulcrum in my stomach wobbled
The world was shaken
Twisted
And turned
A comet shot down into our chest
That night
And things hadn't been the same
A summer solstice
Suffering
stomach lightening
Every six minutes
Breath
She looks at his picture
A womb shot
He tears release
Red eyes
My chest trembles
I fight to conceal it
His mother is our baby
a day later
Frog legs fold under his bum
Wrinkles at his knees
My pinky covers his neck
Asleep on her chest
Ice, skin, organs, melt
For him
In the wide window
Green leaves shiver
In the Afternoon sun
Crossing through them
We keep going
Moving forward
Wanting to look back
We try in the seconds before
Steel eyelids
Remember to close
Limbs spasm
Bodies
Escape to rest
Steel doors open
Time to move again
Time to feed him
Time to try
I miss him while I wait for the train
I have no idea what it is I miss
But I must look into the melon shaped eyes of his mother on his face
Again
The fulcrum in my stomach wobbled
The world was shaken
Twisted
And turned
A comet shot down into our chest
That night
And things hadn't been the same
A summer solstice
Suffering
stomach lightening
Every six minutes
Breath
She looks at his picture
A womb shot
He tears release
Red eyes
My chest trembles
I fight to conceal it
His mother is our baby
a day later
Frog legs fold under his bum
Wrinkles at his knees
My pinky covers his neck
Asleep on her chest
Ice, skin, organs, melt
For him
In the wide window
Green leaves shiver
In the Afternoon sun
Crossing through them
We keep going
Moving forward
Wanting to look back
We try in the seconds before
Steel eyelids
Remember to close
Limbs spasm
Bodies
Escape to rest
Steel doors open
Time to move again
Time to feed him
Time to try
I miss him while I wait for the train
I have no idea what it is I miss
But I must look into the melon shaped eyes of his mother on his face
Again
Caleb
all those things
those things
that i thought about
the way something was said
the way something was done
the way we loved
the way we hated
the color and
the light
the surroundings
all according to moi
then the hospital
then caleb
cherub
and now
well I don't know
Life is lighter somehow
bc it revolves around him
those things
that i thought about
the way something was said
the way something was done
the way we loved
the way we hated
the color and
the light
the surroundings
all according to moi
then the hospital
then caleb
cherub
and now
well I don't know
Life is lighter somehow
bc it revolves around him
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Caleb
The door was cracked open. I am not sure why, it seemed like a closed door event. Mom stood across the hall that we weren’t really allowed to stand in. Her tiny body stood almost half of the doorway of the public kitchen where we poured our tea and got ice since arriving the night before at 2 something AM. Mom wore shorts and a sleeveless shirt revealing the precipitance with which she left the house last night. She pulled her thin wool sweater pulled across her chest in worry. I stood in the doorway and watched my sister through the reflection of the glass. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, her back towards me. The doctor was pushing and pulling shot after shot into her back, quickly, precisely, with the confident of a computer. I thought there was only one shot, so I kept telling mom it was over, when it wasn’t. Finally he pulled a long tube with a needle at the end and injected it into her like she was the end of a vacuum cleaner. I tried to see her reaction, her head bent over, her body exhausted from hours of lightning strikes in her stomach. Her head jumped as every shot went in. I looked back at my mom, and told a lie, it was over everything is okay. Then it was. The vacuum shot was pulled, the plastic peeled from her back. Everything was okay.
We waited outside. Until a blond nurse that I didn’t recognize ran into the room. I followed. Of course I did. Mom, wisely, stayed outside. Walking slowly in, I saw them moving her from one side to the next. Then “get on your hands and knees.” Danny stood there, halted. I moved passed him. Leila was holding the oxygen mask to her mouth and holding herself up on all fours. The three women, Dr Jackson, Jordan and the chief nurse that I hadn’t recognized were in control. It was apparent. The head nurse rubbed Leila’s back and told her to breathe deeper, slower. “Relax your shoulders.” She did. Just like she did everything that she was told was right to do. My hands rubbed through her hair like before, like those times before, little Leila. Her long skinny fingers curled around my hand and her eyes looked forward, focusing on her breath, on getting this right. She stayed there on her knees, one elbow and one hand. Danny sat next to her. They found each other’s eyes and tears began to roll down Leila’s chipmunk cheeks. The oxygen mask became fogged up by congestion. A tissue and wiping of her nose. Oxygen mask back on. I told her that all three of the women looked calm. By then the anesthesiologist had come in and injected a drug called ephinedrine or something into her medicine bag. Six eyes stared at the screen monitoring the baby’s heart. I stared at them then back at Leila. Mom had come in by now, unable to withstand not knowing. She was in the corner, tears wetting her face. Stay focused.
Ten minutes later, Leila was on her side, still with oxygen on her mouth. Two hours later, I was asleep on the couch. The doctor came in and checked her, half asleep I heard she was dilated 3 cm. Mom had taken over and was helping Leila watch the heart rate. Leila was elated, she was going to go for it. Wait it out until 10 cm.
Eight o’clock. A new doctor on shift. Third doctor since we arrived. He checked. His face let us know first. Leila brought up c-section. 7 minutes later the decision was made. An hour later Leila was rolled in with a baby, wrapped up like a piece of bread on her chest.
We waited outside. Until a blond nurse that I didn’t recognize ran into the room. I followed. Of course I did. Mom, wisely, stayed outside. Walking slowly in, I saw them moving her from one side to the next. Then “get on your hands and knees.” Danny stood there, halted. I moved passed him. Leila was holding the oxygen mask to her mouth and holding herself up on all fours. The three women, Dr Jackson, Jordan and the chief nurse that I hadn’t recognized were in control. It was apparent. The head nurse rubbed Leila’s back and told her to breathe deeper, slower. “Relax your shoulders.” She did. Just like she did everything that she was told was right to do. My hands rubbed through her hair like before, like those times before, little Leila. Her long skinny fingers curled around my hand and her eyes looked forward, focusing on her breath, on getting this right. She stayed there on her knees, one elbow and one hand. Danny sat next to her. They found each other’s eyes and tears began to roll down Leila’s chipmunk cheeks. The oxygen mask became fogged up by congestion. A tissue and wiping of her nose. Oxygen mask back on. I told her that all three of the women looked calm. By then the anesthesiologist had come in and injected a drug called ephinedrine or something into her medicine bag. Six eyes stared at the screen monitoring the baby’s heart. I stared at them then back at Leila. Mom had come in by now, unable to withstand not knowing. She was in the corner, tears wetting her face. Stay focused.
Ten minutes later, Leila was on her side, still with oxygen on her mouth. Two hours later, I was asleep on the couch. The doctor came in and checked her, half asleep I heard she was dilated 3 cm. Mom had taken over and was helping Leila watch the heart rate. Leila was elated, she was going to go for it. Wait it out until 10 cm.
Eight o’clock. A new doctor on shift. Third doctor since we arrived. He checked. His face let us know first. Leila brought up c-section. 7 minutes later the decision was made. An hour later Leila was rolled in with a baby, wrapped up like a piece of bread on her chest.
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