The Heaviest of Freedoms

I. Walkabout

I removed the gold chain from around my neck. The one that holds the inscribed half-heart and the ring.

I seem to have swallowed all the bitter words I never got a chance to throw at you.

I have them sitting in my stomach, a dense mass of letters flavored with an angry tone.

I hear every sound from the distance of the top of a high dive. But I've already plunged, so it must be the water that clogs my ears.

I smile and make dinner, I laugh and play the part.

I am either the world's best actress, the world's worst liar, or the world's biggest fool.

Then again, maybe it's the way I'm screaming inside, so loudly, that makes everything echo from far away.

I know I am crazy.

I may call you again.

I may love you again.

It was your turn to chase me. (The way it always will be.) Maybe I finally tired you out. Maybe I finally drove you away.

And to think, I was holding back.

I don't feel any of that lightness I thought I would feel, bubbling up inside me, lifting my burden.

I was probably wrong.

I was definitely cruel.

I am too strong for my own good.

I think you got off easy. I think you're the lucky one. I think I let fear call the shots. (I thought too much.)

I twisted the passages from my heart to my mind one too many times. They are straws leaking precious emotion.

I think this may be as happy as I get.

I am weighed down by this heaviest of freedoms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

II. Boomerang

You made sure your mother called to tell me about the emergency.

The medium is in the hospital. The one who talks to ghosts, who said I was beautiful outside and in.

(You see why I was skeptical?)

I did the unthinkable and ran away. But you didn't even know I had left you.

I am torn between frustration and relief.

It's the little things that always pull you back, the gossamer-thin spider webs that we have erected between us.

I hate the distance.

I hate the unfairness inherent in the distribution of resources.

More than anything, I hate my fickle, cold-blooded heart.

The same one that catches in my throat when I reach for my necklace and find only unbroken skin.

Thin strands of gold lie in a resentful pile on my dresser. We never did write our names on the back of that heart.

I called you. Dodged your lazy bullet questions.

I gave you an in.

I don't know if I'm hoping you'll take it.

I could never sell my soul for a kiss, but I'd buy yours.

Keep it in a vial around my neck.

Wear it as a shawl, a blanket, to keep me from freezing. (How do you stay so warm?)

Run it up a flagpole, sew it into my pocket, prick it, cure it, love it, destroy it.

Melt it and mold it into a key for these fetters.

Open me up again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~AEW~~~~~

Temporary Soundtrack: It Doesn't Matter by Allison Krauss.
Quote Trapped in My Head: " The world is too much with us; late and soon..." from the poem by William Wordsworth.

The A in Egypt

She stands in rigid parade-rest,
but if you squint you can see
the ungainly baby deer bends
of her long-boned limbs.

Neither golden sun
nor amber shaft of wheat
sit trapped in the twisted folds
of her paper-pale hair.

Smoke got caught in two blue marbles
hardened in the depths
of her mother's womb.
The sidhe mined them to form her eyes.

Balancing on graceless, masculine feet
sprouting the curious legs of a crane
she rests her torso
on the hulls of her flat hips.

Harsh sounds alone comprise her voice
dog-cries and shutter-slaps,
even her lullabies grate;
pitch and keen instead of croon.

Scarred cheeks, small breasts;
all of her delicious faults
are made immaterial
by the sheer shock of her existence.

She is real. Her heart races, and falters.
Her soul-filled body is solid.
I am her reflection diluted and disturbed,
broken by a thousand ripples.

I slip through her on my way to hell,
a barely-felt shiver as from a ghost,
as she strides forward, steady and unerring
I forgive her for not stopping my fall.

~~~~~~~~~~AEW~~~~~~~~~~

Why is this poem called "The A in Egypt", you muse? Well, I couldn't just put the title I wanted, so I ask you...what starts - and ends with - an A and is in Egypt?

Exactly.

Avast and Ahoy, Here There be Rhymes <-- More Poetry

About To Do

I am about to do two stupid things.

Both hinge around one idea: telling the truth. Not, as opposed to lying, but as opposed to ommission (as in 'sins of').

Funny how I always get sarcastic and flippant when I can't face what I need to do, isn't it?

Well, at the very least, I can say that I knew it all along, that these were stupid things to do - sorry, Stupid Things To Do, these deserve capitals, they are so monstrously idiotic.

Quote Trapped in My Head: " So darlin' I just wanna say // Just in case I don't come through // I was on to every play // I just wanted you" - Fiona Apple, Shadowboxer

Aging Five Years in Five Hours

That's what it feels like I did on Saturday night. We took my mom, who was having pains in her lower right back (around the kidneys) to the hospital at 7:30pm. She had kidneys stones six years ago, and she thought it might have been the same thing again. Anyway, Emblem and I stayed until 11:00; we went home expecting my parents to call us to bring an overnight bag or to tell us they were on their way.

They didn't get home till 3:00am, and never could get reception to call us (once they were allowed to use their cell phones). Emblem and I were a bit apprehensive, and annoyed, before they finally came in. I got up early the next morning and went to church, where I hung out with LizAd and answered everyone's questions.

Mom has an appointment with the doctor on Thursday, but they found no stones in the CAT scan, so we're at a loss as to what could be causing the blood leakage.

All in all, not a night I'll be likely to forget anytime soon. And not in a good way. Especially...yeah. Ok, not going to do this here.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In other news, I went to the dentist on Monday and got five cavities filled! The carnage! I was desensitized until the next day. My smile was all crooked and the corners of my eyes felt tight, I was so numb. My cheeks were actually swollen. Not a pretty sight.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tuesday I kipped off work early and hopped a bus to the Port Authority, and ended up at Emblem's office on Broadway. She showed me around their very cartoon-influenced offices and we grabbed some Rigoletto's pizza before we ran to the Ballet. Yes, we saw Don Quixote performed by the ABT! The music from the wedding scene I recognized very well from my years as a ballet student. My body started twitching, calculating the angles I would need to perform the exercises we used to do to that music.

It's just another part of me that I can't describe, how necessary it is for me to release tension through dance. I miss the feeling of stretching the limits, of being perfectly balanced, of knowing that you are making something so exquisite with just your body. That's why I spend so much time dancing my demons out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Temporary Soundtrack: Leon Minkus' score for Don Quixote
Quote Trapped in My Head: Emblem: "Look, it's George Balanchine Way!" Me: *1,000-watt grin* "Sweet!" Emblem: *Odd look* "Wow, that was WAY too enthusiastic for the street sign." Me: "Well, it's better than the sarcastic 'Oh, for joy!' I was going to give you."
Also: "It's the Tchaikovsky All-Star Spudtacular!" - Emblem

Elven Ears Aside...

You scored as Legolas. Reserved and knowledgeable, you have a gift for noticing the background details people often miss. Legolas 88% Eowyn 81% Galadriel 81% Gollum 75% Aragorn 69% Frodo 69% Faramir 69% Sam 63% Pippin 63% Merry 63% Your Lord of The Rings Alter Ego Is...? created with QuizFarm.com

Temporary Soundtrack: Only Emblem knows, and she's not telling!
Quote Trapped in My Head:
"The little stars were the herring-fish
That lived in the beautiful sea.
"Now cast your nets wherever you wish,--
Never afraid are we!" - from Wynken, Blynken, and Nod by Eugene Field.

On the Pond Again...

Along a pond in the Jardín Botánico of Viña del Mar, Chile.

Boston Mirror

Or, rather, a reflection in this building.

Fear As a Bedfellow - Take II

I watch you every night
let Fear tuck you in
spreading itself
whisper-thin.
A blanket to cover
your goosebumped skin.
Your hair is gripped
in its grimy fist.
It sickens me that
this foul thing,
reeking of death,
should be your lover.

What a lullaby
it sings to you,
injecting brutal
nightmares into
your sickly sleep.
It washes your back
in the shower,
the better to keep
coating you with
paranoia, poured
in your ears and flung
as droplets rolling smoothly
off its grey, waxy tongue.

You gave it a
farewell kiss today.
Was its mouth cold? fever-hot?
where are its lips?
It inspires in me
such disgust, the way
those possessive hands
linger on your hips.
My eyes had never
been anything but blue
before that cursèd
sight hit home.

Each morning, you bend
to lovingly tie one end
of its odd body
to your naked waist.
A self-sustaining
umbilical cord, taking
its thick, fleshy substance
from your soul, chopped up
and rubber-cured
in a tangy broth,
diluted with a cup
of your night sweat.

You have taken to
wearing Fear as a cloak:
your shield and
tarnished armor all in one.
Its supple fingers
are poised to choke:
clasped tightly
around the pulse-point
of your throat.
As if barely resisting
the sharpest urge to
cut off your gasps.

I see you shiver;
has it slipped
its eager palms
under your clothes, caressing
the insides of your thighs?
Is it whispering its
anxious mantra of psalms
into the soft curls
at the nape of your neck?
You wince at every
twisted beck and call
yet through it all
you refuse to part ways.

You are obsessed.
You let Fear sit on your chest,
control your skittish heartbeat.
You wash its deceptively
small, graceful feet
and let it wriggle
into your warm embrace.
Can you not feel its
wicked spine cut your skin?
Its fetid breath
blows on your face
and I hold the bile in.

Today, I grasped
both of your scarred wrists,
dragged you from your
would-be death bed
on stubborn heels
to breathe on the mirror.
I held you by the chin,
forcing you to see.
You turned to me
with Terror wrapped
around your bones, Fear
grinning from behind your eyes.

I am too late. You are Fear's vessel.

Your body is cold.

~~~~~~~~~~~~AEW~~~~~~~~~~~~

You can lead a poem to rhythym but you can't force it to rhyme. <-- More Poems

Arm Blush Time

One of our clients who helped me out during this trip I went on to Guaraja, Brazil to a convention of players in the Brazilian Coffee market, sent me the following link. He IMed me and said: Here's a reason for you to return to Brazil this year!

Not For Kiddies...

I blushed all the way down my arms. I'm not exaggerating. I felt them grow all warm and it gave me creeped-out goosebumps.

So Inappropriate!

Emblem Will Leave the Building

Emblem is Moving Out! To the big bad (and oh so good) NYC. I am so sad! But, hopefully she'll come visit a lot on the weekends and I will get to stay with her sometimes. What will we do without her? Cry ourselves to sleep? Well, maybe just the first week. Then she'll be back!

Anyway, I'm really proud of and happy for my big sister. She's taking an important step towards independence, plus she'll have even more time to spend awake every day, since she's saving on commuting time. And she may even be richer and buy me more presents! *Ahem*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This is really amusing. My friend and I heard Rob Thomas' new single, Lonely No More and I completely misinterpreted one part while she misunderstood another. So, below, are our versions of the lines we heard wrong and the real lyrics, or so I've been told.

I (mis)heard:

I don't wanna be lonely no more.
I don't wanna have to pay for this.
I don't want another lover at my door,
It's just another heartache on my list.

And I thought: "Right on! I'm so with you there." However, this is really:

I don't wanna be lonely no more.
I don't wanna have to pay for this.
I don't want to know the lover at my door
Is just another heartache on my list.

And LB heard:


Now its hard for me with my heart still on the mend
Open up to me, I could do your girlfriends.

And was understandably puzzled. But he actually says:


Now its hard for me with my heart still on the mend
Open up to me, like you do your girlfriends.

Temporary Soundtrack: Lonely No More by Rob Thomas.
Quote Trapped in My Head: "He wasn't begging, he was just keeping time with his cup. You go on and believe that, you keep your eyes straight up..." State Inspector from State Radio.

King of the Posts

San Francisco Seagull

Bound Angel

Looks like he's just been freed. He appears to be holding daisies, but he's really just standing there, waiting for some sign, or maybe a miracle.

A graveyard in Northern NJ. Summer 2004.

Quiz Redux

Just for fun, I tried this quiz again. Before, I scored as an even Ron-Harry, but ended up being Ron. Funny how things change, huh? Just goes to show...quizzes are worth exactly the amount of time it costs you to take them.

You scored as Harry Potter. You can be a little reckless and hot-headed at times, but a more brave and courageous friend would be hard to find. Harry Potter 90% Severus Snape 80% Sirius Black 80% Remus Lupin 80% Hermione Granger 75% Ron Weasley 70% Albus Dumbledore 70% Ginny Weasley 65% Lord Voldemort 25% Draco Malfoy 25% Your Harry Potter Alter Ego Is...? created with QuizFarm.com

Woohoo!

Today

I was shaking today
Next to the glittering water
Under the intermittent sun, where
Our feet tickled the mountain's backbone.
But I disguised it well.

I drew lines today
Red and pink snaking across my map
Two minutes before you arrived at my door
I finished creating them.
But you couldn't tell.

I was dying today
Silently fighting for breath
Even while I asked after your family
And painted myself a new mask.
But you hesitated to ask.

I broke open today
Inexorably, stoically, minutely
One tear, one sob, one fist hitting the wall.
Small explosions are allowed, one a day
To keep the devastation at bay.

~~~~~~~~~~AEW~~~~~~~~~~

What do you take me for, a poet? <-- More Poems

Fear As A Bedfellow (Original)

I watch you let Fear tuck you in
every night, spreading itself thin.
A blanket to cover your goosebumped skin.
Your hair is gripped in its grimy fist.
It sickens me that this foul thing,
reeking of death, should be your lover.

It sings you a lullaby, breaking its
promises by sending you nightmares.
It washes your back in the shower
even as it coats you with paranoia,
poured in your ears as droplets of bile
rolling off its grey, waxy tongue.

You kissed it farewell this morning.
Was its mouth cold? fever-hot? where are its lips?
It inspires in me such disgust, the way
those possessive hands linger on your hips.
My eyes had never been anything but blue
before that cursed sight hit home.

Each morning, you tie one thick end
of its odd body to your naked waist.
A self-sustaining umbilical cord
making its thick, fleshy substance
from your soul, chopped up and served
in a tangy broth of your night sweat.

You have taken to wearing Fear as a cloak -
your shield and tarnished armor all in one -
its supple fingers clasped tightly
around the pulse-point of your throat.
As if barely resisting the sharpest urge
to cut off your panting breath.

I see you shiver; has it slipped its
eager hands under your clothes, caressing
the insides of your thighs? Is it whispering
its anxious mantra into the soft curls
at the nape of your neck? Through it all
you still cannot bear to part with it.

You are obsessed. You let it sit on your chest
and control your skittish heartbeat.
You wash its deceptively small, graceful feet
and let it wriggle into your warm embrace.
Can you not feel its wicked spine cut your skin?
Its fetid breath blows on your face and I choke.

Today, I grasped both of your scarred hands
and dragged you from your would-be death bed
on stubborn heels to the bathroom mirror.
I hold you by the chin, forcing you to see.
You turn to me with terror wrapped around
your bones, fear grinning out from your eyes.

I am too late. Your body is so cold.

~~~~~~~~~~~~AEW~~~~~~~~~~~~
Put your words where your mouse is... <-- More Poetry

Cannot Cuddle to Save My Life.

What Is Your Best Sexual Skill?
Name:
Age:
Sex:	MaleFemale
Sexuality:	StraightGayBisexual
Flirting Skill Level - 74%
Kissing Skill Level - 80%
Cudding Skill Level - 0%
Sex Skill Level - 86%
Why They Love You	You know exactly what they want.
Why They Hate You	You can be selfish.
This cool quiz by lady_wintermoon - Taken 2298109 Times.

New! Get Free Horoscopes from Kwiz.Biz

Temporary Soundtrack: Golpe Negro by Andres Cabas.
Quote Trapped in My Head: "Voices rising and falling We chant a new millenium..." part of an upcoming as-of-yet untitled poem of mine.

A Fitting Result

Your Dominant Intelligence is Linguistic Intelligence

You are excellent with words and language. You explain yourself well. An elegant speaker, you can converse well with anyone on the fly. You are also good at remembering information and convincing someone of your point of view. A master of creative phrasing and unique words, you enjoy expanding your vocabulary. You would make a fantastic poet, journalist, writer, teacher, lawyer, politician, or translator.

What Kind of Intelligence Do You Have?

Considering that was one of my majors, pretty good.

Killing Time

You are a Samurai.
You are full of honour and value respect. You
are not really the stereotypical hero, but you
do fight for good. Just in your own way. For
you, it is most certainly okay to kill an evil
person, if it is for justice and peace. You
also don't belive in mourning all the time and
think that once you've hit a bad stage in life
you just have to get up again. It's pointless
to concentrate on emotional pain and better to
just get on with everything. You also are a
down to earth type of person and think before
you act. Impulsive people may annoy you
somewhat.

Main weapon: Sword
Quote: "Always do the right thing.
This will gratify some people and astonish the
rest" -Mark Twain
Facial expression: Small smile

What Type of Killer Are You? [cool pictures]
brought to you by Quizilla

What My Birthdate Means

Your Birthdate: December 30

Your birthday on the 30th day of the month shows individual self-expression is necessary for your happiness. You tend to have a good way of expressing yourself with words, certainly in a manner that is clear and understandable. You have a good chance of success in fields requiring skill with words. You can be very dramatic in your presentation and you may be a good actor or a natural mimic. You have a vivid imagination that can assist you in becoming a good writer or story-teller. Strong in your opinions, you always tend to think you are on the right side of an issue. There may be a tendency to scatter your energies and have a lot of loose ends in your work. You may have significant artistic talent and be very creative.

What Does Your Birth Date Mean?

Personality Type

Your #1 Match: INTP

The Thinker You are analytical and logical - and on a quest to learn everything you can. Smart and complex, you always love a new intellectual challenge. Your biggest pet peeve is people who slow you down with trivial chit chat. A quiet maverick, you tend to ignore rules and authority whenever you feel like it. You would make an excellent mathematician, programmer, or professor.

Your #2 Match: ENTP

The Visionary You are charming, outgoing, friendly. You make a good first impression. You possess good negotiating skills and can convince anyone of anything. Happy to be the center of attention, you love to tell stories and show off. You're very clever, but not disciplined enough to do well in structured environments. You would make a great entrpreneur, marketing executive, or actor.

Your #3 Match: INFP

The Idealist You are creative with a great imagination, living in your own inner world. Open minded and accepting, you strive for harmony in your important relationships. It takes a long time for people to get to know you. You are hesitant to let people get close. But once you care for someone, you do everything you can to help them grow and develop. You would make an excellent writer, psychologist, or artist.

Your #4 Match: ISTP

The Mechanic You are calm and collected, even in the most difficult of situations. A person of action and self-direction, you love being independent. To outsiders yous eem impulsive, surprising, and unpredictable. You are good at understanding how all things work, except for people. You would make an excellent pilot, forensic pathologist, or athlete.

Your #5 Match: ENFP

The Inspirer You love being around people, and you are deeply committed to your friends. You are also unconventional, irreverant, and unimpressed by authority and rules. Incredibly perceptive, you can usually sense if someone has hidden motives. You use lots of colorful language and expressions. You're qutie the storyteller! You would make an excellent entrepreneur, politician, or journalist.

What's Your Personality Type?

Acronyms Abound

Tonight, we're going into NYC to see JFK at CBGB's, on the Lower East Side of Manhattan. Should be lots of fun! See you there!



Instant Soundtrack: Talk Show Host from Radiohead.
Quote Trapped in My Head: "True, I talk of dreams, Which are the children of an idle brain, Begot of nothing but vain fantasy, Which is as thin of substance as the air, And more inconstant than the wind..." Mercutio, Romeo and Juliet, Act I, Scene IV.

Pretty Things

Shiva, baby, can you tell me
      why is it always the pretty things
            that we so dearly love to destroy?

I want to hold you down
      press your hands above your head
            strike bruises into your perfect skin

Leave your melodious voice
      rasping and raw, gasping
            for breath as you sing my name

I know precisely what it would take
      to turn you on - you whisper to me
            your weakness in that innocent voice

I will grind my dancer's hips - hard
      between your shaking legs, teasingly bring you
            to ecstasy with one deliberate touch

Have you burning with desire
      desperate to be possessed
            aching for my slight caress

With gaze so alluringly hypnotic
      I can create any emotion, just watch my
            misleading eyes as you bite your lip

You're so beautiful it petrifies me
      to the core of my calculating heart
            how deeply I want to make you flawed

~~~~~~~~~~AEW~~~~~~~~~~

Hear no poetry, Read no poetry, Write no poetry...what a tragedy! <-- More Poems

Kauai Sunset Tweaked!

Sunset over Kauai, Hawai'i

This is My Blog All Right

Ian,
This is most definitely my blog. Still don't believe me? Well, you just suck then. What's that? I'm scaring you? Too bad! Consider yourself creepily stalked.
~~~~AEW~~~~