i take my time to notice corn stalks before the harvest.
i momentarily sway with them in appreciation to the wind.
i try to thank them sincerely, recognizing that they live only to die.

growth

i stretch my arms at least seven miles high
in order to feel real air on my fingertips,
but not before i securely dig my feet into the mud.

these tress know what i mean, they, too, are old souls.
dancing with me at dusk and laughing

growing with, breathing in and spinning upon this earth

clapping our hands and praising the rain and
living our lives like we have for eons.

awakening: Jameson in tow.

my nitrogen and oxygen have mixed with the clouds
and my carbon is waiting to rejoin the mud.
Breaking through the sutures of my skull
is the grass that i walk on
and
sunlight beams from my finger tips.
i am nature and
she is me.

i have been dead and resurrected
one thousand lives
and the feet i walk with now
have been feet before.
My flesh is new and old, buy my soul is ancient like the sun.
I, how i know me, was created and can be destroyed.
I, how our souls know me, was never created and
can not be destroyed.
i am the universe and
he is me.

It didn't happen all at once.

there were black and white, but living made me change.

the more years that fall away
the more everything
(and everything,)
that is, most of everything
turns gray.

i saw you laying on the hot concrete;
a misplaced stone with a broken neck.
the blue sky cruelty hit me hard in the teeth -
you're dead.

your eulogy is:
"she lived. she died"
no more. no less.

dear natalie,

i am inches from busting my computer to pathetic little computer pieces because datatude is having a bad attitude.
the assessment is typed up and the screen is entered but the stupid database won't let me "move screen to client". i have to quit working right now or my blood pressure will cause my face to rupture blood all over my mac screen.


things to know:
this is a real email to my boss.
datatude is an internet database that is terrible most of the time
i almost quit my job tonight.

02/06/2009

i could keep going today
going and going - straight east;
finding myself nose deep in the
dark blue Atlantic.

i think i'd raise my palms
just to praise the wind.

i think i might breathe real deep
and let the salt sting my lungs.

the rocks would stand there,
proud and firm
and the birds would dance

where men don't go

it's not because i am or i am not,
but i share an identity that is subtle
and i tiptoe - because i can.

i wake up early and i tote
the world on my back.
i do the work i do, which anyone
could accomplish,
but i do it, nonetheless
with a perceived (or is that 'conceived')
notion of importance.

but i am important
or so i tell myself.
but i am a woman
and that's important.

i go where men don't go
and i tiptoe with caution -
because i have to.