November like a train wreck
as if a locomotive made of cold
had hurtled out of Canada
and crashed into a million trees,
flaming the leaves, setting the woods on fire.

The sky is a thick, cold gauze
but there's a soup special at the Waffle House downtown,
and the Jack Parsons show is up at the museum,
full of luminous red barns.

Or maybe I'll visit beautiful Donna,
the kickboxing queen from Santa Fe,
and roll around in her foldout bed.

I know there are some people out there
who think I am supposed to end up
in a room by myself

with a gun and a bottle full of hate,
a locked door and my slack mouth open
like a disconnected phone.

But I hate those people back
from the core of my donkey soul
and the hatred makes me strong
and my survival is their failure,

and my happiness would kill them
so I shove joy like a knife
into my own heart over and over

and I force myself toward pleasure,
and I love this November life
where I run like a train
deeper and deeper
into the land of my enemies.

(listen to him read it here)

After I heard It's a Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall
played softly by an accordion quartet
through the ceiling speakers at the Springdale Shopping Mall,
I understood there's nothing
we can't pluck the stinger from,

nothing we can't turn into a soft drink flavor or a t-shirt.
Even serenity can become something horrible
if you make a commercial about it
using smiling, white-haired people

quoting Thoreau to sell retirement homes
in the Everglades, where the swamp has been
drained and bulldozed into a nineteen-hole golf course
with electrified alligator barriers.

You can't keep beating yourself up, Billy
I heard the therapist say on television
                                                         to the teenage murderer,
About all those people you killed—
You just have to be the best person you can be,

one day at a time—


and everybody in the audience claps and weeps a little,
because the level of deep feeling has been touched,
and they want to believe that
the power of Forgiveness is greater
than the power of Consequence, or History.

Dear Abby:
My father is a businessman who travels.
Each time he returns from one of his trips,
his shoes and trousers
                                   are covered with blood-
but he never forgets to bring me a nice present;
Should I say something?
                                                       Signed, America.


I used to think I was not part of this,
that I could mind my own business and get along,

but that was just another song
that had been taught to me since birth—

whose words I was humming under my breath,
as I was walking through the Springdale Mall.

monaubergine: (sleep is nice)
It was a night like this, at the end of summer.

We had rented, I remember, a room with a balcony.
How many days and nights? Five, perhaps--no more.

Even when we weren't touching we were making love.
We stood on our little balcony in the summer night.
And off somewhere, the sounds of human life.

We were the soon to be anointed monarchs,
well disposed to our subjects. Just beneath us,
sounds of a radio playing, an aria we didn't in those years know.

Someone dying of love. Someone from whom time had taken
the only happiness, who was alone now,
impoverished, without beauty.

The rapturous notes of an unendurable grief, of isolation and terror,
the nearly impossible to sustain slow phrases of the ascending figures--
they drifted out over the dark water
like an ecstasy.

Such a small mistake. And many years later,
the only thing left of that night, of the hours in that room.
So I think I will post a few of my favorites before May is here.

Other Lives and Dimensions and Finally a Love Poem by Bob Hicok

My left hand will live longer than my right. The rivers
of my palms tell me so.
Never argue with rivers. Never expect your lives to finish
at the same time. I think

praying, I think clapping is how hands mourn. I think
staying up and waiting
for paintings to sigh is science. In another dimension this
is exactly what's happening,

it's what they write grants about: the chromodynamics
of mournful Whistlers,
the audible sorrow and beta decay of "Old Battersea Bridge."
I like the idea of different

theres and elsewheres, an Idaho known for bluegrass,
a Bronx where people talk
like violets smell.  Perhaps I am somewhere patient, somehow
kind, perhaps in the nook

of a cousin universe I've never defiled or betrayed
anyone. Here I have
two hands and they are vanishing, the hollow of your back
to rest my cheek against,

your voice and little else but my assiduous fear to cherish.
My hands are webbed
like the wind-torn work of a spider, like they squeezed
something in the womb

but couldn't hang on. One of those other worlds
or a life I felt
passing through mine, or the ocean inside my mother's belly
she had to scream out.

Here when I say "I never want to be without you,"
somewhere else I am saying
"I never want to be without you again." And when I touch you
in each of the places we meet

in all of the lives we are, it's with hands that are dying
and resurrected.
When I don't touch you it's a mistake in any life,
in each place and forever.


For lack of anything to say.
Fuck, I missed Gilmore Girls. They don't replay it, do they?
I made this mix in June. When I listen to it now, it reminds me of Central Park. I'm really proud of the way the songs flow; I think this is the best mix I've made.



.zip file
monaubergine: (it looks nice from a distance)
I love Chicago. I think I want to live there some day. I can't form my thoughts well enough to say anything about the trip, but overall it was enjoyable, despite a few burned bridges. My pictures aren't that great so I don't know if I'll post any of them. Instead, here is a video of Rufus, the turtle I bought for Caroline in Chinatown:

[Error: unknown template 'video']

Caroline and I are the ones giggling in the background. He is too tiny for me to focus on, so I haven't been able to get any good pictures, but trust me, he is adorable. And don't worry, we are getting him a bigger tank.
monaubergine: ((i believe in joy))
My scores come out to four 6s, one 5 and one 4. Sadly no 7s, but I'm not really complaining. Also, a D on my EE but a B on my TOK essay, so one extra point there. The total comes out to 34, if you don't feel like adding (pssh, I never have to take math again).

I'm happy.  
I slept in until 11! Days off are great. In two weeks, I'll no longer have either of my jobs. I don't really have time to get a new job before school starts, so I guess that means I'll actually have some vacation time. Which will probably be spent getting ready to leave.

Ellen, here are the Ark songs I said I'd upload for you:
Kolla Kolla
This Piece of Poetry Was Meant to Do Harm
One of Us Is Gonna Die Young
Rock City  Wankers
 
Also, I'm making a mix of songs for singing along with in the car and I could use some suggestions. So far I have stuff like "Carry On Wayward Son" and "Suffragette City" and "Under Pressure". Any ideas?
monaubergine: (sleep is nice)
I have less free time than I did during school, and I'm doubly exhausted. But, you know, money. (Is this what it will always be like?)

At least I have the 4th off from both jobs, but even when I'm not working I have a million things to do. There are so many things to get sorted out. I have two school obligations but one of them is bullshit and I need to get it settled but I'm always working during the day so I never have time. If I end up having to pay it---I can't even--god. Eighty fucking dollars for a mouthpiece that I know I turned in.

I am so tired.

I just found the best LJ community, though: [community profile] greatpoets. I love poetry and I always want to read more but when I'm in the poetry section of the bookstore I never know where to start. Reading the poems posted is making my reading list longer and longer and longer.

I don't remember if I posted this already, but I have enrolled in all my classes for next semester: Honors English and Geography plus lab and German and Intro to Art History. 16 hours. I didn't get all of the classes I wanted (notice the lack of Spanish or linguistics classes) but all in all I'm satisfied.

I should probably try to get some sleep; I have at least three errands to run before noon tomorrow.
I can't bring myself to make an actual update on my life because I'm too busy avoiding things. So I'll just post a meme! It's sort of like the one that Sarah did. I posted a couple of the songs.

Movie soundtrack for your life. The rules:

1. Put your music player of choice on shuffle
2. Scene one = first song played, scene two = second, so on.
3. No cheating/skipping
4. Pass it on


Some of those fit extraordinarily well and I didn't even cheat on them.

There is going to be a new season of Project Runway this summer and I'm excited. Bravo is pretty great with reality shows. I really got in to Top Chef towards the end, too. I was glad Harold won; he was adorable. And, you know, a good chef or whatever. But anyway, I still prefer PR because I know more about fashion than I do about food. Plus the contestants are more entertaining. I'm just happy I'll have something to look forward to watching in the summer. Yay!
I probably should have done this earlier.


Let me know which one you want and I promise I will have them next week. Or whenever I see you next, I suppose.
You know what sucks? Vertigo.
I have had some serious mood swings today. But I have a therapist now, so it's okay!

Anyway, this post is mostly to show off my new haircut:
I look stupid in this picture, but my hair looks pretty. )

I had a dream last night that we went on a field trip to see a production of The Tempest and it was on a ship and we had to swim out to it. It was really odd.

I am in love with this song right now: Jens Lekman- Maple Leaves.
She said it was all make-believe/but I thought she said maple leaves
monaubergine: (dirty and hot)
I swear alice tagged me for this '10 things that make me happy' meme but now that post is gone, so. well, i finally got around to doing it so i'm posting it anyway.

ten things that make me happy:
one: brown sugar and fig body cream from bath and body works. the layer of smells is perfect. it is like the smell i never knew I wanted (woah, that sounds totally crazy).
two: reading random articles on wikipedia. somehow i came across the category pedarastic lovers. it's quite a group of men: leonardo da vinci, alexander the great, walt whitman, e.m. forster. oh, my.
three: the freckles on the bridge of jensen ackles' nose. (i can't find a picture where they are visible :/ but he has a nice nose in general, really.
four: and this is lame, but i will also add jensen ackles' voice, which is deep and drawly and TEXAN and he makes everything sound dirty.
five: go fug yourself. hee.
six: blueberry pie and ice cream. especially when the pie is homemade (even though the pie i just had wasn't). mmmmm.
seven: said the gramophone. my favorite music blog, and i read quite a few. the writing is brilliant, sometimes even better than the music they post (which is always amazing).
eight: i was going to say whales, but i don't know if they really make me happy. they scare and fascinate me equally. i love these whale watercolors.
nine: learning about the etymology of words. it's the main reason i'm going to study linguistics (but i like the other parts too).
ten: the prospect of graduating high school and leaving wichita and meeting new people. which is scary too, but i'm sick of high school, mostly. so, yeah.

i'm surprised i could actually think of 10, although it took me a while. i've been really moody lately. i get irrationally angry at people and i know it's irrational but i still want to blame it on them. i just need a break from people sometimes.
monaubergine: (sleep is nice)
Bravo's doing a Project Runway marathon on right now. I have to say, although I enjoyed this season, I don't think it quite lived up to the first one. The designs this season have been mediocre, overall. Anyway, I think Santino is a clear winner; I'll be surprised if it goes any other way. His collection is the best thing he's designed the whole season. Chloe and Daniel's collections are kind of uninspired, I think. And I know this is an incredibly unpopular opinion, but I like Santino. Yeah, he acts like an arrogant jackass all the time, but I don't think he's a genuinely mean person. And he's hysterical. And anyway, being an asshole doesn't compromise one's talent; look at Karl Lagerfeld.

I think I might do a post about the fall ready-to-wear shows.

I feel like posting some more music. So:


Parks and Recreation- Break Into Song. It makes me want to break into song.

Devotchka- Death By Blonde. It sounds like a song from a sexy spy movie that is set in Eastern Europe.

Karl Blau- Into the Nada. I like the surfy, laid-back feeling.

Jamie Lidell- Multiply. Who doesn't like soul music? This has a classic sound without sounding too derivative.

The Go! Team- Junior Kickstart. Everyone should have heard of them by now, but I was listening to this and thought I should post it.

The Knife- Heartbeats. Which is better: the original or Jose Gonzalez's cover? I am totally in love with them both.

And if you are interested, you can download all but one song from Jenny Lewis's Rabbit Fur Coat for free at the label's website. It's really good.

I just had a really good brownie. Yum.
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