Insomniac
by. ms. plath
The night is only a sort of carbon paper,
Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of stars
Letting in the light, peephole after peephole ---
A bonewhite light, like death, behind all things.
Under the eyes of the stars and the moon's rictus
He suffers his desert pillow, sleeplessness
Stretching its fine, irritating sand in all directions.
Over and over the old, granular movie
Exposes embarrassments--the mizzling days
Of childhood and adolescence, sticky with dreams,
Parental faces on tall stalks, alternately stern and tearful,
A garden of buggy rose that made him cry.
His forehead is bumpy as a sack of rocks.
Memories jostle each other for face-room like obsolete film stars.
He is immune to pills: red, purple, blue ---
How they lit the tedium of the protracted evening!
Those sugary planets whose influence won for him
A life baptized in no-life for a while,
And the sweet, drugged waking of a forgetful baby.
Now the pills are worn-out and silly, like classical gods.
Their poppy-sleepy colors do him no good.
His head is a little interior of grey mirrors.
Each gesture flees immediately down an alley
Of diminishing perspectives, and its significance
Drains like water out the hole at the far end.
He lives without privacy in a lidless room,
The bald slots of his eyes stiffened wide-open
On the incessant heat-lightning flicker of situations.
Nightlong, in the granite yard, invisible cats
Have been howling like women, or damaged instruments.
Already he can feel daylight, his white disease,
Creeping up with her hatful of trivial repetitions.
The city is a map of cheerful twitters now,
And everywhere people, eyes mica-silver and blank,
Are riding to work in rows, as if recently brainwashed.
Thursday, January 18, 2007
Saturday, January 6, 2007
turn up the music, take me over, take me anywhere....
i love...obviously...:
1. my family both immediate (my mom and daddy are fantastic) and the family i have made here in nashville.
2. jill, ollie, leia, richie, elijah, molly, stephanie & charles, cameron, allison....etc, etc.
3. modern design, mid-century modern.
4. modern art.
5. vintage furniture, art, objects.
things you might not have known i love:
1. cooking for friends over many bottles of wine and great conversation.
2. the way flour feels on my hands and between my fingers.
3. picking dead leaves off of house plants.
4. the smell of dirt and soil.
5. watching movies over and over until they are so funny i can't stand it.
6. annabelle sleeping in a curled up ball (i can't believe she can get so small) next to me in bed.
7. the way annabelle gets insanely excited when i say "annabelle, outside?"
8. clean sheets right when i have had a shower and shaved my legs (weird, yes. i know.)
9. good lighting. mostly modern classic pcs, but good overall "lighting" in general. dark and comfortable...not glaring.
10. walnut wood. i love the grain and color.
11. george harrison, frida, marimekko, jonathan adler, angela adams.
12. henna orange, the palest blue, and marine blue/green.
13. coffee on sundays when i have nowhere to go and i can sit and drink as much as i want, as slow as i want with friends coming and going not caring if i am still in my pj's and no makeup.
14. my house almost anytime.
15. being able to remember most of my dreams. reliving them all day the next day. flying in my dreams. lucid dreams.
16. white. pottery, furniture, lighting, dishes...etc, etc.
17. hardware stores. i get so INTO them. it's hard to focus.
18. my backyard after dark when i am all alone and the sky is clear. being able to find the little dipper and seeing where it is in proximity to my home.
19. small town feelings (east nashville) and big city anonymity.
20. great music that makes me forget who i am and then remind who i am 4 seconds later.
21. getting postal mail from someone i love (postcard, letter, card...a nice little hello) it makes me smile.
22. people who "get" me.
23. researching. learning. exploring.
24. black and white photographs. old. new. people i know. people i don't.
25. spending the day completely alone with nothing to do. (only every once in a while)
26. slightly damp paper.
things i don't like AT ALL:
1. arguments that don't go anywhere.
2. unfounded judgement.
3. ignorance.
4. being ignored.
5. my computer freezing (which hardly happens...its an apple)
6. people misusing "in regards to" (it's "in regard to")
7. holes in my socks.
8. overdraft fees.
9. car trouble.
10. misunderstandings.
11. assholes. bitches. with no reason.
12. the last sip of beer.. when its warm and ick.
13. seeing my friends in pain or suffering in emotional turmoil and knowing there isn't anything i can do to help.
14. seeing stray dogs or cats.
1. my family both immediate (my mom and daddy are fantastic) and the family i have made here in nashville.
2. jill, ollie, leia, richie, elijah, molly, stephanie & charles, cameron, allison....etc, etc.
3. modern design, mid-century modern.
4. modern art.
5. vintage furniture, art, objects.
things you might not have known i love:
1. cooking for friends over many bottles of wine and great conversation.
2. the way flour feels on my hands and between my fingers.
3. picking dead leaves off of house plants.
4. the smell of dirt and soil.
5. watching movies over and over until they are so funny i can't stand it.
6. annabelle sleeping in a curled up ball (i can't believe she can get so small) next to me in bed.
7. the way annabelle gets insanely excited when i say "annabelle, outside?"
8. clean sheets right when i have had a shower and shaved my legs (weird, yes. i know.)
9. good lighting. mostly modern classic pcs, but good overall "lighting" in general. dark and comfortable...not glaring.
10. walnut wood. i love the grain and color.
11. george harrison, frida, marimekko, jonathan adler, angela adams.
12. henna orange, the palest blue, and marine blue/green.
13. coffee on sundays when i have nowhere to go and i can sit and drink as much as i want, as slow as i want with friends coming and going not caring if i am still in my pj's and no makeup.
14. my house almost anytime.
15. being able to remember most of my dreams. reliving them all day the next day. flying in my dreams. lucid dreams.
16. white. pottery, furniture, lighting, dishes...etc, etc.
17. hardware stores. i get so INTO them. it's hard to focus.
18. my backyard after dark when i am all alone and the sky is clear. being able to find the little dipper and seeing where it is in proximity to my home.
19. small town feelings (east nashville) and big city anonymity.
20. great music that makes me forget who i am and then remind who i am 4 seconds later.
21. getting postal mail from someone i love (postcard, letter, card...a nice little hello) it makes me smile.
22. people who "get" me.
23. researching. learning. exploring.
24. black and white photographs. old. new. people i know. people i don't.
25. spending the day completely alone with nothing to do. (only every once in a while)
26. slightly damp paper.
things i don't like AT ALL:
1. arguments that don't go anywhere.
2. unfounded judgement.
3. ignorance.
4. being ignored.
5. my computer freezing (which hardly happens...its an apple)
6. people misusing "in regards to" (it's "in regard to")
7. holes in my socks.
8. overdraft fees.
9. car trouble.
10. misunderstandings.
11. assholes. bitches. with no reason.
12. the last sip of beer.. when its warm and ick.
13. seeing my friends in pain or suffering in emotional turmoil and knowing there isn't anything i can do to help.
14. seeing stray dogs or cats.
Saturday, December 30, 2006
Hussein
I must be more compassionate than I thought. I am so very disturbed by the public execution of Saddam Hussein. I have always been one to believe rotting in jail is more punishment than capital punishment and this situation is no different. I understand all the points which have been made- a coup could free him from prison, thus allowing him the opportunity to gain power again….etc, etc. I am conflicted...but I think Gandhi said it best, "The law an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind."
Thursday, December 28, 2006
me?
me?
i wear a monocle.
it allows me to see half of what i need.
do i really need to see the rest?
what's the point?
everyone shows what they want.
anyway.
i wear a monocle.
it allows me to see half of what i need.
do i really need to see the rest?
what's the point?
everyone shows what they want.
anyway.
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
things.
for the last few weeks i have been attempting to post an update on what is going on in my little part of this world we ride. unfortunately i have not been able to do so...and tonight is not any different.
things have happened. things i wanted to happen. things i didn't want to happen. things i didn't see coming. things i may have missed while i was focusing my attention elsewhere... and all i can do is hang on for the ride...sometimes paddling along to help out the momentum and other times dragging my heels to slow it all down.
i had a conversation with my granny on christmas eve. she is a lovely and insightful woman. she told me, "you just have to stay positive, you just have to keep moving forward." Forward motion has been my mantra for years and years now...someone wise from my past believed in it too. i thank him for that...but i wonder if i am missing out on things while i am moving forward, am i moving at a pace where my fate can't catch up with me?
this isn't going anywhere and it seems cryptic, but in my head, its a jumbled mess...and if the output is jumbled, maybe that's the way it has to be for a while. maybe i'll get it all sorted out in the new year.
here's hoping.
ps. things=things. don't attempt to read into it.
things have happened. things i wanted to happen. things i didn't want to happen. things i didn't see coming. things i may have missed while i was focusing my attention elsewhere... and all i can do is hang on for the ride...sometimes paddling along to help out the momentum and other times dragging my heels to slow it all down.
i had a conversation with my granny on christmas eve. she is a lovely and insightful woman. she told me, "you just have to stay positive, you just have to keep moving forward." Forward motion has been my mantra for years and years now...someone wise from my past believed in it too. i thank him for that...but i wonder if i am missing out on things while i am moving forward, am i moving at a pace where my fate can't catch up with me?
this isn't going anywhere and it seems cryptic, but in my head, its a jumbled mess...and if the output is jumbled, maybe that's the way it has to be for a while. maybe i'll get it all sorted out in the new year.
here's hoping.
ps. things=things. don't attempt to read into it.
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Bypass
I can't seem to get this poem out of my head...true love.... if you are lucky enough to find it...Can't live without them...love.........
Bypass
When they cracked open your chest, parting
the flesh at the sternum and sawing
right through your ribs, we'd been married
only five weeks. I had not yet kissed
into memory those places they raided
to save your life. I could only wait
outside, in the public lobby
of private nightmares
while they pried you apart, stopped
your heart's beating, and iced you
down. For seven hours a machine
breathed for you, in and out. God,
seeing you naked in ICU minutes
after the surgery ... your torso swabbed
a hideous antiseptic yellow
around a raw black ladder of stitches
and dried blood. Still unconscious,
you did the death rattle on the gurney.
"His body is trying to warm itself up,"
they explained, to comfort me.
by Susan Kelly-DeWitt
Bypass
When they cracked open your chest, parting
the flesh at the sternum and sawing
right through your ribs, we'd been married
only five weeks. I had not yet kissed
into memory those places they raided
to save your life. I could only wait
outside, in the public lobby
of private nightmares
while they pried you apart, stopped
your heart's beating, and iced you
down. For seven hours a machine
breathed for you, in and out. God,
seeing you naked in ICU minutes
after the surgery ... your torso swabbed
a hideous antiseptic yellow
around a raw black ladder of stitches
and dried blood. Still unconscious,
you did the death rattle on the gurney.
"His body is trying to warm itself up,"
they explained, to comfort me.
by Susan Kelly-DeWitt
Bypass
I can't seem to get this poem out of my head...true love.... if you are lucky enough to find it...Can't live without them...love.........
Bypass
When they cracked open your chest, parting
the flesh at the sternum and sawing
right through your ribs, we'd been married
only five weeks. I had not yet kissed
into memory those places they raided
to save your life. I could only wait
outside, in the public lobby
of private nightmares
while they pried you apart, stopped
your heart's beating, and iced you
down. For seven hours a machine
breathed for you, in and out. God,
seeing you naked in ICU minutes
after the surgery ... your torso swabbed
a hideous antiseptic yellow
around a raw black ladder of stitches
and dried blood. Still unconscious,
you did the death rattle on the gurney.
"His body is trying to warm itself up,"
they explained, to comfort me.
by Susan Kelly-DeWitt
Bypass
When they cracked open your chest, parting
the flesh at the sternum and sawing
right through your ribs, we'd been married
only five weeks. I had not yet kissed
into memory those places they raided
to save your life. I could only wait
outside, in the public lobby
of private nightmares
while they pried you apart, stopped
your heart's beating, and iced you
down. For seven hours a machine
breathed for you, in and out. God,
seeing you naked in ICU minutes
after the surgery ... your torso swabbed
a hideous antiseptic yellow
around a raw black ladder of stitches
and dried blood. Still unconscious,
you did the death rattle on the gurney.
"His body is trying to warm itself up,"
they explained, to comfort me.
by Susan Kelly-DeWitt
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