Outside the box...

6-24-2008

My dear, sweet
Bohemian Romeo;

Together
- you and I -
I've no doubt that
we would have leveled Verona.

What say we meet
in Fort Lauderdale this weekend
and tear that
motherfucker
to the ground?

Julie.

6-21-2008

I ran up the door, closed the stairs, said my pajamas and put on my prayers, turned off the bed and hopped in the light, all because you kissed me goodnight...

personal

6-21-2008

Note to self...

during your next life, PLEASE refrain from making babies with idiots.

the book

6-20-2008

I've once again begun work on my book. To everyone who has emailed me with encouragement, I wanted to say thanks.

I've been writing ever since I can remember. In fact, when I was still in grade school, I wrote plays monthly and the principal was supportive enough to actually let me rally up my classmates and perform them during our frequent assemblies. I recall one vividly that centered around the death of a Heebie-Jeebie. Not sure what that is? Look it up. I'm quite sure my explanation would be as silly as the actual resulting play was which brought forth rounds of laughter from all attending. At that moment, a writer was born.

That said, I think I should point something out. This is not a book of poetry. I began writing this novel a good five years ago and it's just been languishing about ever since. I reckon it's a good 85% done and it still requires a tremendous amount of rewriting. Huge chunks of it have already found their way into the trash. Hell, at the rate I'm going, I might have it pared down to a paragraph by morning.

Anyhow, I'm going to post a snippet below. It has no name but there is a theme. Murder, of course. I'm just an angry girl at heart. Oh, and love. Cuz somewhere in my heart, I'm pretty sure love dwells as well.

I returned home revved up by the notion to clean but instead my motor stalled on the couch. Tucked beneath a throw my mother had crocheted for Christmas, I flipped on Sex and the City and spooned blended Neapolitan ice cream into my mouth. Some things were just better when mushed into a gooey, swirling mash of flavor. Neapolitan was one of those things.

Tabby curled to my side, kneading biscuits on my thigh with chunky paws while Samantha and Carrie squealed over a pair of shoes on my television screen. I envied their lives. The only item that merited that much squealing from me was my monthly phone bill and, truthfully, it was more of an outraged screech than an actual squeal. Life was so much better for women on Sex and the City. Hell, even the shoes were better, I noticed, as they zoomed in for a closeup.

The phone rang and I blindly reached over, forgetting my pact with Mr. Caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Bitch."

I was taken aback.

"Robert?"

"Where the fuck were you last night?" He brewed angrily. "I came by and your car wasn't there. You never came to the door."

I propped myself up and leaned forward, setting my bowl on the coffee table, disturbing Tabby enough to illicit a dissatisfied mew.

"Not that I owe you any explanations but I left my car at the bar. I was drunk so I took a cab."

"Like hell you did. Who is he?"

Experience had taught me that slamming my anger into his own would get us nowhere so I spoke to him calmly, trying to ease him away from the edge. I was well practiced in the art of soothing Robert.

"I said I was drunk," I repeated carefully. "I was sleeping and, in case you've forgotten, you were the one who wanted your space."

His laboring breath in my ear was lost to a vacuuming whoosh.

"What has that?" I asked.

"None of your fucking business." He then slammed his way out of the conversation by shouting, "You're not the only one with secrets!"

I hung up the phone, mildly distressed but not overly so. This was Robert's way. His jealousy had always been an issue but I had attributed it to his intense love for me and had cast it aside. He had normally been a pretty easy puzzle to piece but this last week had led me to believe that more than a few sections were missing.

If he didn't want to be with me, why did he care?

Last night, as I had drifted to sleep, I'd decided that his insecurity had been the downfall of our relationship. During our time together he'd exhibited possessive traits on numerous occasions but I hadn't heeded the warnings. If a coworker paid me too much attention at a function, Robert would fill my ear with imagined infidelities all the way home. Hell, just last summer even the postman had been on the receiving end of Robert's vivid creativity for a benign hello spoken to me while I weeded the yard.

Stroking the cat as I reminisced, I vowed to put Robert out of my mind. I didn't realize in doing so that I would open my mind right back up to Dillon whose memory swaggered in with little fanfare.

Dillon. Not going there tonight, either. He'd either call or he wouldn't and I certainly wasn't going to waste my energy on him. If he wanted me, he knew where I was and apparently he did, because my phone rang one more time.

"Hey, baby." His tone was hushed. "Miss me?"

"What's with all the whispering?" I exhaled back. "Is your girlfriend listening?"

He laughed and I gave birth to my first smile of the day, Robert totally forgotten.

"I don't have a girlfriend. Furthermore, I don't have a life. What are you doing?"

Somehow spoon feeding my cat, who sat licking with gusto at my side, didn't seem like the appropriate answer.

"Boning up on my Scrabble skills." I told him. "What about you?"

"Just finished in Boston." A car door opened and he excused himself, coordinating his next stop with his driver. "Alright, I'm back. Hey, what are you doing this weekend?"

"International Scrabble competition in Maui. I'm a mean verb flinger and they expect me to take the gold. Busy, busy. Busy."

"Cancel and come to New York."

I came close to dropping the phone.

"What?"

"New York. The Big Apple." Excitement crept in his voice. "Listen, I have a super boring appearance to make. Some function to save whales, mate trouts, or support the plight of the Bolivian sheep herder. Really, I have no idea what it is since my publicist set it up but I seriously can't do this alone. Come with me."

Me at a New York high society function? What would I wear? My extra spiffy GAP jeans?

"Amy?"

"I'm here." I responded, still tenderizing the thought of a weekend with him in my mind. "How do you spell superfluous?"

His chuckle hit my ear like warm honey as he encouraged, "Is that a yes or a no?"

I twisted my lip and chewed on it's skin.

"It's a yes."

6-18-2008

Today.

Today you say that
I'm your sweet flower.

What?

Don't make me that.

Flowers are useless
in the grand scheme
of things.

They're given when one
is resented.

They wither and die
once presented.

They pollinate with no
hesitation.

They care nothing at all
for sensation.

So, take it back.

I'm not your flower.

And, should I ever discover
that you're just another one
of those randy, tell-all bees,
I'd sooner crush you
with my New York Post
than let you spread my knees.

6-18-2008

If only love
were opinion then
my life would be set
with all the words of
encouragement
I consistantly get

how to act
how to dress
what to write
what to say

i can make
my decisions
without help,
my own way.

So judge me,
that’s fine,
shake your head
in dismay,
but unless
that’s hope
in your
pocket,
when you’re done,
go away.

Invisable hourglass

6-18-2008

From somewhere in the house, comes the sound of unfamiliar voices. Deep, strong, independant. Who's voices are they
I wonder? Perhaps the children know. My boys so sweet an innocent, must be out playing in the yard. Their imaginations are wild and vast. They want me to come out and play with them this afternoon, but i'm exausted, and I feel a headache emerging from somewhere behind my eyes. They dont try to hide their dissapointment, but like a well played recording I say to them..." Not to worry boys, there will always be another day."
My excuses are quickly forgotten as they once again find something to divert their full attention. I lay down for a nap . The voices , muffled slightly behind a closed door , awaken me . Perhaps the children know.
Walking through the house , careful not to trip on the toys that usually clutter the halls,.....are surprisingly not there tonite. I tiptoe down into the familyroom , just to have a quick peek at them watching a silly cartoon or playing videogames well past their bedtimes. But again, I find a senario I was not expecting. Dark, and silence. Once again , Im off to check the children . As im walking down the hall , I think to myself " Perhaps the boys and I can find time to play tomorrow . Or maybe a quick movie. Yes. A movie sounds about right. Once again the sound of a deep playful voice comes from the direction of the boys room. Company? Who, I wonder , could it possibly be?
As I reach the door and begin to knock, I say in my most playful mommy voice " Hey kiddos, I have a great idea! How about we all catch a quick movie tomorrow??Whatcha' think??"
As the door opens , I find myself standing face to face with one the most striking young men I've ever seen. Behind him , two more young men engrossed in conversation , stop and look up at me with such radiant smiles . Who are these young men ? Such familiar strangers they seem...

"Sorry, the one I take to be the eldest says. ......"but not to worry Mom, there will always be another day."

Never forget to appreciate time you have with your family. Especially your children. Because inevitably, they grow up. Cherish the gifts of their laughter you have been given. ......You cannot stop time, so take your time.

quote..

6-17-2008

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be?
Marianne Williamson

6-17-2008

I got drunk
on you tonight.
Too afraid to shoot you up
and do it right,
instead I drank you in,
swallowed you whole,
watched clear vision slip
while I slipped out of control.

And you wasted me with
unwasted charm,
rushed into my system
and made my blood warm
as my head started to spin
while you crept in
to the deepest dark
of my darkest heart.

I then threw you up
with hours to spend,
til I didn't know where I ended
and where we began.
You'd think I'd learn my lesson,
and set myself free,
but you taste so good, baby,
that I crave you in me.

6-6-2008

When I asked you for space, this isn’t quite what I meant.
Now I’m standing alone in this Lover’s field

and even the wind won’t touch me.