Tuesday, August 2, 2016

Wounded Invisibility

Invisible disability feels like able bodied people looking at you as if your productivity and consistency should compare

Invisible disability is others recognizing your difference and choosing more able people so it doesn’t effect them

Invisible disability is feeling unsafe participating in your own public perception; being unsure whether you are creating your reality or observing it

Invisible disability is being disheartened by your attempts to be accountable for having the life you want to live because when you try to speak or leave your house or make a friend your throat fills with anxieties instead

Invisible disability is trying to connect with your profiles on the internet in a tender call for solidarity but being too gripped by some mysterious force to make time for those who actually show interest

It’s squandering opportunities for friendship because
you can’t commit,
you can’t follow through,
you can’t ask,
you can’t pay attention,
you can't move,

Invisible disability is leaving your body when someone else is touching you
because you don't know how to express what you need or what you want

Invisible disability is not being able to justify that you are not well

You know that others can see the ways in which you do not succeed
because you feel the absence of their respect
You know people judge you, because they treat you different
You see people excel in their careers and feel comfortable in their body and execute their abilities
And, you wonder;
Why not me?
Why is so much of my time spent in recovery?

Why haven’t I recorded a song?
Why haven’t I mowed the lawn?
Why haven’t I found a good job?
And all of those meetings
Why haven’t I gone?
Why haven’t I returned the form that would allow me to see somebody
and maybe be more self sufficient
maybe be more independent

Is there a pill that will make it easier to speak?
Is there a pill that will show me what’s real and what’s anxiety?
And then, help me pretend the truth doesn’t effect me?
Is there a pill that won’t erase the good parts of me?
Is there a life where I look like something good
when others compare themselves to me?

Or does healing look more like repairing
my wounded invisibility
Accepting, I am more capable
when I'm solitary
Letting myself be alone, be invisible
and not feeling lonely

Not trying to qualify
Not feeling bad that I can’t qualify

my disability

Monday, January 18, 2016


what you give
what you take
what you deserve and
what you can reciprocate

The difference between what you do
and what you say

how you thought
you had the right,
to feel anything
any way

When really,
no one wanted to listen
no one granted permission
to give that power away

Power over your validation
Power over our reconciliation
Power over your faith in the human condition

It wasn't something
they wanted to take
It wasn't yours
to give away

Where are they now?

All purities are paradoxes
there is no vacuum packed determinism

You can give and make a difference
You can love without measuring
the cost of losing it
You can create
while everything roots for destruction
even in the scope of our limits
we have power

Languish in your dissonance
It's the oscillations,
the riding wavelengths
That weaves the path
of least resistance

It's the struggle to give back
and do it different
That lets us run the river
Bleeding into basins
Beautiful sketches
Blooming like nerve beds
Swirling like hot pits

Coming together like happy accidents
The meeting of our attempts
to co-create
You did that
You made that change
A tiny creature 
A tiny space
You've got something to say.

Monday, January 11, 2016

58 Degrees

Blank pages stand
as a monument
to the grasshopper's summer
Even as she dies
she persists,
impatient to live

Luck with no effort
Blessed with no direction
A wanderer sufficed
to fall further
down the wandering path

Over peaks and out of ditches
She always finished last

And was she ever lost?
Was she coming up a step above,
with secret stolen moments
of transcendental love?

If I walk sideways
I may move gently enough
A soft movement of my wings
drying in the sun

Saturday, January 2, 2016

Snake Medicine

She's leaving early and going to bed
I'm hanging around for whatever's left
I'm white trash in an abusive relationship
I'm destroying what was never good to begin

I'm going with almost anyone who asks
Until I'm afraid of mirrors;
It's just parodies of futures
It's a cartoonish morphing creature
It's someone on the internet
who says I need a better partner

with thick black frames 
and bottles of lager
He plays Square Pusher
and cartoons from the nineteen hundreds

I don't think he even likes me but,
He turns the lights off
and he ties me
He turns the lights off
and he washed me
He turns the lights off
and he asked me,
When will I see you again?

But half the fun
was the destruction
The guts of a girl who'd rather be dead

Afraid of,
bad allies and false revolution
for being smart and assertive.
for taking it personal
to be and not to be
a victim

I didn't make out on parked buses
in bass bumped warehouses.
I didn't drink under bridges
and perform seances

I didn't share a bath
with a girl who painted cosmos
I didn't take a bike ride
or travel to the mountains

I didn't take my shirt off
and run as I fast as I could
for exactly 30 seconds

The part of me that wanted 
to die
was already dead.
Thrown out

and burned up in the crash
When you go back to the spot
you can hear me laugh

I aborted the kid
I forgot the missing limb
I walked inside a fire
where my shadow died
so I could live

I moved to Minneapolis
I lived out of my back pack
I made it as an artist
I hitchhiked with a trucker

I danced til sun up at a rager
I saw turkeys in the mornin
I spent 5 days with a skater
in a hammock in the forest

I took the empire builder 
home for Christmas
talked train routes with the conductor
and I spent three days in my bed
just trying to remember what she said;

I could do anything I wanted

There's nothing to fear

When you're already dead

Friday, April 24, 2015

The Difference Between Falling and Leaning

I listened to Dessa in ways
I had never heard her before
I looked up at my cat from below
as if I was small
His fur rose and quivered
like wildfire
and indeed I was small

Sosh couldn't hear
my missing words
and pleas for interruptions
outside myself
so I took a bath
while she fell asleep

and I prepared
to fall into a void
pass through the abyss
and land firmly
in my subconscious
visions, weaving
symbolic language
without ego
without effort

But I was still distinctly
in my corporeal body
I just stopped creating
I left nothing in front of me.

It was less than death
It was more than darkness
I ceased to exist

I intended to find buried secrets
and lean toward my impermanence
but the surrender was only submission
the darkness was only nothingness

Leaning is more like breathing

you stop attaching
you keep existing
you leave the mind
and the body keeps experiencing

I stopped to feel my chest
and watch the fireworks for a minute
then, I heard a girl scream in the distance
as if out in the airfield
something had happened

But I realized
it was just me
a fantasy of a little girl
victimized and lonely
No one had ever come to
save me
I had walked alone
to hug the sand
and feel the breathe
and tell her I'd take care of it
then I let her go
and I kept moving

Tuesday, April 21, 2015

Robin's Eggs

The ground went from brown
to speckled white
as a spotted curtain waved
in front of a small winter moon

Like when it rose in San Francisco
It didn't rain there much
but it poured on North Beach
Smokin' shorties
on the Filbert steps
in the Red Light District
the night I came in

and by the afternoon
a rainbow hung over
a turbid, thunder

I figure I'm obligated
to look forward to it
That fresh smell
in the mornings
When the cold covers up
our potentials to bloom

I don't think we'd make it through
our hot wild birthdays,
without this

So, I wish for blanket cocoons
Because all things come
in cycles,
like they're meant to

We call it sanctuary
and we call it prison
We call it a necessary burden

We'd never come
running from our houses
Swimming through
our great adventures

without it

This stillness
This absence

The stillness
The absence