one of the universe's current manifestations

tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-334849152012-02-16T02:22:45.045-05:00one of the universe's current manifestationsdefining existence through mayhem. life, my life, is sustained by the junk of adrenaline and bizarre experience, as adventure is an opportunity I cannot forsake. synchronicity plots my next move always.frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.comBlogger451100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-10350148790011183382010-12-11T14:49:00.002-05:002010-12-11T14:56:37.767-05:00

I have neglected this blog for a full two years (minus a few days). I hold on to it, though. Perhaps I'll tidy it up, redirect it a little, combine it with other ventures. For now, I am just going to update as I see fit and contemplate what my web presence is becoming.What is going on with me: slightly different career. From Head Start to after school programs as either a performance art

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-16484846746695302692008-12-20T20:59:00.002-05:002008-12-20T21:05:14.862-05:00chasing tumbleweeds

so tour happened and was amazing. then there was a play. then there was decompression from both of these things. and some illness. but, I am writing finally after performing so much, and doing others' work (and some of my own)... I've been cleaning a lot and working on more physical creativity.BUT. everything is coming together into something that I think I know what it is, but it still is

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-30117976879589766622008-07-10T22:40:00.002-05:002008-07-10T23:18:42.106-05:00Los Tenedores

it's trite, but I am experiencing a writing dilemma. surprising to many that are close to me, I am a creature of habit. I make up rules for the most inane things and stick with them... unless I change my mind for a specific reason. I think how this neurosis manifests itself in my writing is through my decisions regarding capitalization. for blogging or personal emails with people I know, I

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-61299985588180303342008-05-19T05:52:00.002-05:002008-05-19T06:02:50.720-05:00play on words poem

the best way I can describe what I've written over the past several days is a play, on words - uh, poem. or a poem that is a play that experiments with language. maybe a poetry musical/opera? who knows. it's fucking weird. good thing there are weirdos here in B'more that are into it, because I already know it's not for everyone.probably coming from my love of repetitive sounds, steady rhythm,

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-35088685213118203232008-05-17T12:11:00.002-05:002008-05-17T12:39:01.127-05:00I'm not in hiding

I'm barely home! if you know me, you might've seen me, or not. mainly my preschool students have been seeing me. I didn't get around to posting that I was going to be in a play (that already happened, it was an absolute thrill).I am going to be reprising my role in Hopeful Softness, one of the plays that I was just in. it's a short experimental piece written by Theresa Columbus. oh how I

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-4785254984841196282008-04-04T13:43:00.003-05:002008-04-04T13:49:10.214-05:00April performances

tomorrow! the Baltimore Ethical Society, here's the "official" info that went out in emails -First Saturday Coffeehouse Night Date: April 5th TIme: 7pm At the Baltimore Ethical Society 306 W. Franklin St. Featuring Two great poets: Freda Mohr and Suzy. Also Art by Matt Muirhead. Matt Muirhead, emigrated from England to the United States with his family in 1983. Matt started painting

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-89419283459894270202008-03-29T19:12:00.002-05:002008-03-29T23:03:25.978-05:00corrections for "dali's ex-llama wife"

okay. so I'm glad that I put out a zine, and I have been giving it away mostly. what I don't like is that there are a bunch of discrepancies and errors. the most glaring ones:spell bound - previous version; I like the one in the zine better.bend to my breeze - the lines on the bottom of the first two pages of this poem were cut off, and I've changed the line "as I beamed at you" to "as I blew

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-79548129233713732792008-03-07T07:19:00.003-05:002008-03-07T13:26:49.660-05:00moebius notes

so I gave an impromptu reading last night at 2640's Mini Zine Fest Oh Eight, and I think that it went rather well, considering a few things that I guess I wouldn't have figured out without giving said reading.first of all, I should not do my showier pieces when I am not possessed by them. the last time I performed, I was my writing, and I do believe it showed. I have pieces that need a lot of

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-9810861246672904522008-02-28T06:16:00.002-05:002008-02-28T06:54:43.570-05:00gone fishing

I haven't been writing that much of late, and though I have plenty of old pieces that I could be posting, I feel that I need to be a bit more reserved with what I publish here. not because I don't want to share my work, but because I am becoming more interested in being a little more than self-published. a lot of the literary contests, magazines, anthologies, etc., will not consider previously

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-25571509172656732562008-02-23T03:37:00.002-05:002008-02-23T03:39:43.317-05:00taking space

why did you needto make so tangiblea reminder?if I was leftwith only a memoryto call upon at willperhaps I wouldn'tfeel so vandalizedI could make a statementby undoing your handiworkbut that would be admittingthat I feel a bit sulliedthat I was a bit takenthat you were able to stain meeven if in such a small small wayit wasn't personalnor is it irreparableit's just a reminderof you being hereand

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-1758231270912267612007-11-26T06:39:00.000-05:002007-11-30T15:12:56.282-05:00moebius, cast, expanded

with my feetI patch the streetsof this frayed city,with my eyesI spin strandsof words to embroiderthe beauty of its decayon the fabric of my mind.I'm menstruating andas my womb wanes,I contemplate what elseneeds help to reincarnate.sometimes I can't decideif humanity should be saved.listen to the noises created by voicesraised in contempt of what's becomeof this over-complicated world.when do the

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-24610404430301273952007-11-26T06:25:00.000-05:002007-11-26T06:34:35.501-05:00rich

my mind feels like small handsunable to hold the many coinsspewing from the mouthof the universe's muse machinemy words an inadequate pailand now I prepare myself forthe waking world having not sleptI want to fling the coins into the airto be caught by passers-byand share them with friends

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-49934210094366367522007-11-24T16:59:00.000-05:002007-11-24T17:05:14.382-05:00this kiss off

eyes slip over melike an oil spilland render meslippery when wettedby drunken perceptionwhat are you playing at?this is not a game, playerto save you from my womanhoodyou push me onto othersunsure how my standardswould manifest themselves on youmy clit throbs with the possibilitythat someone could love me for my politics

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-67665264280839456292007-11-24T16:48:00.000-05:002007-11-24T16:58:57.526-05:00"all of which you love will blow away" - graffiti found on overpass

"all of which you love will blow away" - graffiti found on overpass.blow away like what? leaves? an ill-fitted hat? cocaine in a drafty room? I don't understand how this is profound but it strikes me as unreasonably sad and I wonder at what compelled the author to share this with the general automobile-driving masses. aren't they trapped enough in those metal coffins?"all of which you love

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-81431299335104764022007-11-24T16:12:00.000-05:002007-11-24T16:27:13.603-05:00moebius, cast

human existencecan be summed upin many ways,reduced to mathematicalchild's play:a mere twist in a ringresults in endlesscycling.creating infinityfor its own sake,sometimes lifefeels like the same mistake:the same lesson unlearned,a stationary wheelvehemently turned.(whence you came,peripheral,again returnto convenience)when this spell is finally cast,no one will know how clumsy my occult is. do

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-58297051770724686792007-10-18T14:14:00.000-05:002007-10-18T14:18:25.445-05:00in my circle

I taste the bass of drums and heatflames mouth encouragement to my feetenveloped in friendship and a chaos beatwords and rhythm, hot and sweetthe smell of your heart beatingstartles my sensibilityblue and red I sing your arms to feed mecarry my voice with youthat I might remember its tastewhen your eyes shuffle to greet mestill honest in the morning

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-69397924320533768222007-09-13T10:41:00.000-05:002007-09-13T10:42:49.466-05:00open letter to Mayor Sheila Dixon

Dear Mayor,It is very inconsiderate and gimmicky to rush a reconstruction of the roads right by your campaign office because elections are upon us, especially since there are RESIDENTS who like to sleep at night. Seriously, a jackhammer ALL NIGHT LONG? Can I stay at your house, and bring some friends (i.e. everyone living in the vicinity), because I haven't gotten any sleep for the past several

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-19928049827795555032007-09-05T12:57:00.000-05:002007-09-05T13:01:13.921-05:00vacation no vacation

empty room noise frustration siren application application empty heart full frustration vacation no vacation full empty application room siren noise frustration get the hell away for a little while didn't work.

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-2326200817006253032007-09-04T09:42:00.000-05:002007-09-04T09:47:15.572-05:00something for which to strive

once I have an RV just address all mail to my license plate number knowing that I won't be fearful when pulled over by the 5-0, they'll just be delivering the post.everything makes so much sense after no sleep and before coffee.I'm a poet, so this is a fucking poem because I say so; prove me otherwise.geometrically.

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-33388876969760242402007-06-27T09:20:00.000-05:002007-06-27T09:21:01.961-05:00

nightmares are inspiring, that's for damn sure.

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-19959758398069648602007-05-31T11:25:00.000-05:002007-05-31T14:16:12.167-05:00bend to my breeze?

trying to be tallI witness a young treechoosing to grow highbetween brickswith shallow city rootsnot quite youI envision youa bitmore grounded nowI've seen youdeciduousyou're in your tender spring againall potentialgreen and exciteduncertain how you'll growbut budding neverthelessI can't help butbe allaround yousometimesI want you,shadeit's hotand I want youto have me,airkissesnot too long agoyou

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-30522023661925959402007-05-03T22:53:00.000-05:002007-05-03T23:07:29.816-05:00zealot, or "you made me do it."

I was a Christian soldieronward with the Bible tracksthumping thumping thumpingon doorson holidays stolen from pagansI became a dissidentonce baptized in an over-chlorinated poolthat I was not allowed to swim in withouta color t-shirtlest I Jezebel an Elderor unclethumping thumping thumpingI was holier than thouuntil I was reduced to a hole in the groundsurrounded by safety conesof disputed

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-41072048139858378812007-05-02T15:46:00.001-05:002007-05-02T15:46:45.996-05:00not waiting

in the timebetween the last cigaretteand the motion of a startled cat nestlingI nap becausea nap is not waiting

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-7208454903545011362007-04-25T11:27:00.000-05:002007-04-25T11:36:37.104-05:00beach glass

the shore had been growingfor some time,and while I was busysquishing my toesin the wet sandwhere you pulled backyour ocean,I didn't notice the wave.I'm flooded with the notionthat you secretly like to drown,and though I've beensucked into the rip-tideI know eventually,I'll be able to ride the waveback to where I want to be.and you will no longer crackthe empty bottlemy heart once was for youwhen

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-27426886459629869752007-04-04T17:44:00.000-05:002007-04-04T17:48:58.214-05:00untitled

she almost hears a sound when she reconnects to the universe in which she is most comfortable. it's a juicy noise, cerebral and sensual, thrilling in a contemplative way. beauty is expressed in the pure logic of chaos; there is math in the curves of her body.so ass on the pier,she assesses the current,wanting to feel the earth move. vice replaces good advice,opening her up toconstructive

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-36177772689412030272007-04-04T17:42:00.000-05:002007-04-04T17:43:56.999-05:00analysis

tangled in my realityis my perceptionof my messy roomsomewhere farenough from hereto be a chaosI can definebut not successfullyanalyzelike my roommy heart has becomeclutteredmy life a chaosI can definebut not successfullyanalyze(from 26 July 2006)

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-15688825914025468222007-04-04T17:35:00.000-05:002007-04-04T17:42:01.221-05:00tangibility

proving my existencethrough decadence,wanton jubilationto do is realityand here I am,a manifestation of my ego'suniverse.collectively,we ascertain our tangiblity.(from 12 August 2006)

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-79649264954517122422007-03-15T20:06:00.000-05:002007-03-15T20:07:32.673-05:00

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-41468425935758088932007-03-06T09:40:00.000-05:002007-11-16T18:06:28.131-05:00spell bound

piled a lot of others' mattresses beneath me, trying to cover that which bruised my egoaligned myself with monsters to feel beautiful, closed my eyes so i would not witness their actionsrode white horses to others' rescues, trying to escape myselfa damsel in distressin denialclimbed to the highest turret in my card castleseduced by the spindle, the solitudecursing myself, i locked the tower and

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-55079973808235760672007-02-16T08:21:00.000-05:002007-02-16T08:22:03.764-05:00raw.

raw. i want to bleed on someone, want to have arms bandage me. i've been so contained, i want to leak onto someone, be the mess on their clothing. i haven't been alone for such a long time that i don't know what to do with myself. i have a memory of wanting solitude, but i can no longer relate. i realize how much of a luxury it is to have a specific external emotional presence in one's life. it

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-31944742451425947602007-02-13T19:59:00.000-05:002007-02-07T19:10:29.787-05:00i am not a part of this tragedy

what do you do when someone looks into your eyes with so much pain? i just hugged him and breathed into him and told him that i could do no more than be his friend. he told me that he loves me. i'm not sure of the context, not sure where his mind is... i'm not sure that he knows these things. i know that i'll make mostly good choices in this situation, and not divert too much energy from what is

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-87900682265026036962007-01-22T21:41:00.000-05:002007-01-22T21:44:47.316-05:00second chance...

you're not supposed to recycle partners... once it's over, it's over.and you knew he was moving away.I told him that I wanted to be his best friend so I could visit him there. fucking him was not payment for the trip, it was just an added bonus to the renewed friendship. I felt liberated, was fresh FRESH out of the relationship of my life. I wanted it to work, but...you were rebounding.of

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-1165261188570338522006-12-04T14:38:00.000-05:002006-12-04T15:59:02.123-05:00no title: this is no fairy-tale

the jealousy is negligible; the blatancy of how much things could never be that ridiculous fairy-tale with which we're bombarded and brain-washed is logically comforting. myriad tenuous beginnings afoot with a comical vehemence pacify my reckless tendency to plunge into the decadence of full-on co-dependent romantic assault. maybe this time it will be real for you; the tenderness is genuine each

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-1164728585623274742006-11-28T10:39:00.000-05:002006-11-28T10:43:05.636-05:00this is not a show

late night snakes and jam noisenoisenoise radiator annoying overlay accent dirty fingernails incestuous friend massage creepy voyeur this is not a showlate night early morning quiet and smoke roll your own fallen guitar cluckcluckcluck annoying overlay accent cold hands exes and excess questions creepy interrogator this is not a showblanketed not eye trapped radiator

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-1163784379121531152006-11-17T12:15:00.000-05:002006-11-17T12:26:19.133-05:00rooted?

collabo with emily c-d

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-1163198366084305612006-11-10T17:34:00.000-05:002007-11-26T16:22:34.395-05:00my mother

delicately handlingthe fancy fabric on the bolt,my mother imagines her creation.years of underpaid menial manual laborhave literally broken her backand rendered her handsbarely useful,so the elaborate dressshe has in mind for her granddaughterbecomes a simple sundress,something she can whip up,ignoring hand spasms.her whole life she has spentwaiting for the luxuryof personal discovery,and I fear

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-1163197781689400972006-11-10T17:28:00.000-05:002006-11-10T17:29:41.690-05:00verses

life has been many words for meinundated with languagesometimes I seek the gold of silencebut don't know how to spend it

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-1163023647911031872006-11-08T17:00:00.000-05:002006-11-08T17:07:27.926-05:00easy coercion

so few of us leave ourselves opento the possibility of the divinewe curse the innovation of creationconjuring demons from the darknesscast from the shadows of our own lightI worship the devil sometimesbecause God is a fuckI didn't enjoyfaking itI spread my legs to disconnectI close myself off to intimacy

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-1163023222064351322006-11-08T16:58:00.000-05:002006-11-08T17:00:22.076-05:00hungry

the world's in your belly, honeyfeed it, feed itthe world's in your belly, honeywatch it growyour eyes are bigger'n your belly, honeyyou think you need it, need ityour eyes are bigger'n your belly, honeydon't let it show

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-1163022918552453922006-11-08T16:46:00.000-05:002006-11-08T16:56:21.893-05:00reach

this is the precursor to the line drawings I've been doing recently, featuring another motif in my current artwork: trees that double as people or body parts.if we set up a screen printing room as has been discussed, I would like to screen this and my other line drawings. I think they'd make good fabric.I completed a new one, but I can't seem to rotate the image, and I can't find photoshop on

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-1162838508936624172006-11-06T13:24:00.000-05:002006-11-06T14:36:32.046-05:00distraction series (I'm a novice)

these are my first scanned images. I've never used a scanner before, because I've never really considered anything worth scanning... but I've been drawing a lot lately, and am becoming comfortable with a couple techniques that I will be honing. there are recurring motifs in my work, and I accept that now. the quality of the scans are not so good, but I'll get better. I kinda just fooled

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-1161584807975989912006-10-23T01:17:00.000-05:002006-11-04T15:45:35.736-05:00misconception

you nailed me to the door that you walked out ofyou thought I was your neighbor's catI'm not the messiah that you had thought ofI've never pulled a rabbit from my hatI'd be your saviour if you were more willingbut your head is full of thorny crownsit's three days past Easter, but I'm still a paganI'm so busy rolling tombstones aroundso tell me, dear, how's your angel?has she grown any more horns

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-1158515112895859542006-09-17T12:41:00.000-05:002006-09-17T13:57:31.563-05:00when I walk alone

today,I'll allow the decadenceof sadness and introspection;after all, most daysI'm so fucking cheerful.days like today,I equatemy need to relatewith the need to spreadmyself thin enoughto avoid getting heavy.today I'm heavy.I'm Freud's bastard childtrying to figure outwho's my Daddy,so I can raise himall over again.I need some space,some drum 'n bass,I need someone to need me.no.I need to

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-1158514783010252962006-09-17T12:32:00.000-05:002006-09-17T12:39:43.020-05:00hawai'i rebound

no dreams to rememberbut there is a roosterI hear him and thinkthis is not realbut casuallythere's an honestythe hope in our reverieis not to feellate at nightI understand my mothersometimes it's hard to wrapyour arms around alonebiologicallythere's a tendencyto fill the vacancyunder the pretenseof just getting someheld handshold answersand the answer this timeis nothere's an urgencythe

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33484915.post-1158432415820561332006-09-16T13:43:00.000-05:002006-09-16T13:53:03.663-05:00one day I will be as wise.

I hugged this tree in Hilo. a lot.

frēhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781368373930453138noreply@blogger.com0