Baby Steps

Eventually, when you emerge into the world
find your two feet firmly tentative, shuffling
muffledly, Unleash your desire into the world recklessly
"walk", you think. (did you just command me?)


Your body, inexorably, acquiesced to motion,
your shoulders still stiff, ready to slump.
Pinpricks - like needles, accompanying sweat beads,
accumulate, accessorizing your neck hair.

Two hundred and six goodish bones, so many
specialised muscle tissues (find out which, yourself)
Limbs, skin, face hanging in the periphery,
won't let on the secret workings of their machinery.


Yeah you can learn lessons of what lies within
collect stories of how we work, when you observe a
cadaver, getting the royal dug-out treatment.
Innards laid bare, a post-person's ultimate unwitting surrender.

Journal-schism

So I haven't made a journal-like entry on this blog for a long time. At some point I had decided to take off on a journey to 'live' my life and not chronicle it. I'm gonna refer to the entire intervening period as the Lost Weekend.

I used to journal before because it gave me a space to come into myself. To stretch within my skin and focus my vision through my eyes and breathe through my nostrils, etc etc, you get the picture. 

I clearly did not want to make the connection that I had lost a part of this peacemaking process w/ self during the Lost Weekend. One hell of a long lost weekend it was. Lost my mind, my money, my self, my way, started finding some things again. But I think I am finally ready to make that admission and that's why I'm here. 

Of course I revived this blog while I basked in all that internal turmoil (because, whichever way you slice it, fucking yourself up is the best way to stay right in the middle of the drama) and wrote poetry. Now, I am told by some people that this poetry is good. But of course, I have to remind myself that the people who reach out to tell me that it is good are the ones who liked it after reading. Not that I want or think it is even possible that *everybody* likes my work, but I would like that whoever likes it, has legit reasons for doing so, and identifies with it resoundingly. Just a few things I'd like, it's not too much to ask is it. 

So, while this will continue to be the place where I journal I want to move my poetry into a website. 

I don't want to stop, now that I have guided myself into this place where I can look at a revival of this space where I carry on my sometimes inane sometimes important, perhaps, profound dialog with self. 

But I only have myself to turn my head away from the distractions and look at the empty white space and cursor, and type. 

Here's to making your mind and body your friend. 

-xx-