Philanthropic glass birds wheel overhead.
I am a litany of byproducts.
My ocean is killing me,
Clipping onto me with Mary blue claws and
pulling a piece off at a time.
Suggest yarn,
rope,
a tale of few cities.
Something to tie and bind me,
amoeba shaped and expunged.
You are my cilia,
take me where the crystalline birds nest.
In the maturescence of time,
the callous heavens will descend
and coat everything in pearls.
The sea will become useless,
the blood on your bed bathetic.
Who will we be without our sins,
washed white as winter?
Lavish
Unstable
The silver seesaw
Levitates in the wind.
If a blackbird landed in the center,
I would cry.
Everywhere splatters of preening self,
orange and yellow,
covered in gorgeous tears.
Paste my back together.
Donate your time.
Donate my spine.
I play with Saturday night sound.
I can’t bite my nails.
They are embedded somewhere else.
In my peccancy,
I frequently forget
the great video camera in the opaline sky.
Wry rivulets
rescue me from a righteous thirst.
Parched.
Parchment.
The alien writing in a familiar language
I can’t speak.
My ego strokes Me.
Clotting,
the road of glad tidings
bottlenecked by a beer.
Piss flavored social gold.
Watch the game.
Bats never lose to the fruit.
Night never escapes,
Can’t slip away.
My slip,
my nipples thrilled by silk.
Endless navy sea.
A periscope peaks up,
nothing everywhere,
sinks beneath the rolling surface,
masterfully waiting.
Snow hangs in the air,
Glittering, meaningless.
Above,
a plane eating atmosphere,
into the twilight with no place to land.
I am rowing hopelessly,
thirsty.
By the crystal river named,
“The Jack O’Lanterns Hold Seances at Night,”
a raccoon is nursing her babies,
savage and cute,
piles of gray and black fuzz.
The river does not nourish,
stretches to the bay,
shatters.
Tradition is the province of men,
my womanhood ruminating in the sticky yard
always conjuring something new.
Each day remembers its ancestors,
is fermented and furrowed by them.
But my hands are a seraphim’s gadgets,
my breasts turrets in a house that isn’t mine alone.
A man repeats and repeats,
A warning siren to the beasts of shore and sea.
We will build as we have built,
but will not fight as we have fought.
Today I went through my closet and threw out 3 full, heavy bags of clothes I don’t want anymore. Some were just plain old, some stained, some too big or too small, and some that I no longer like. I used the KonMari method. If I took it off the hanger and it didn’t spark joy I put it in the bag.
There’s a few things left in the closet, most of which I will probably get rid of. I am on the fence about a few things. Lately I’ve been wearing the same 7 or 8 dresses all the time, and it finally dawned on me that those are the dresses that I like and look good on me. If I liked the 20-30 dresses in the closet I’d be wearing them. But I haven’t worn them in weeks.
I have a new system for my dresses (which is all I wear except for the occasional skirt). I don’t hang them up anymore. I put them in the chest of drawers. This is for two reasons. The first is that I hated putting away my clothes. I have always loathed hanging them up. I can’t explain why. It isn’t hard to do. I just hated it. Well, we recently got a new bedroom suite. We got a bed with built in drawers and compartments, and then a chest of drawers that Craig and I share. One day I decided that since I hadn’t used my share of the drawers, I should put some dresses in there just to alleviate the pressure in the closet. Then I discovered that I loved putting my dresses in the chest of drawers! It didn’t stress me out or feel like a chore at all. I am happy to fold them up and put them away. Now, since I’ve started doing this, I put my clothes away as soon as they are out of the dryer.
The second reason is that I want to limit the sheer number of clothes that I have. My side of the closet was brimming with dresses of all lengths, colors, and styles. It was too much. Even if I had liked all of them, that would be too much clothing for one reasonable person. By keeping my dresses in a finite number of drawers, I am limiting how many I have. I never want more than 12 dresses at a time. Right now I’ve got about 7 or 8. When those new dresses I ordered fit me I can add four more. After that, I need to start getting rid of dresses as I buy new ones. Initially I probably won’t even notice because as I go down in size I’ll simply be getting rid of things that don’t fit. But when my weight finally settles at a stable point, I will keep it to about 8 dresses – 12 at most. If it won’t fit in my share of the drawers, it doesn’t stay (or get bought, if I’m not willing to part with anything I already have).
This will also decrease the amount of laundry I have to do, which makes me happy. Back when I used to try to make use of all those dresses I had way too much to wash and put away.
What else can I throw out? What else can I simplify? Soon I plan to replace my old towels and get some more. But that doesn’t really count as cleaning stuff out since I’ll be replacing them. I did a huge purge of craft supplies before we moved. That felt good. If I don’t start scrapbooking again soon, I may consider parting with a lot of my scrapbooking stuff. I don’t know why I don’t want to scrapbook lately, but I haven’t in months. I am so focused on digital stuff and on writing and reading that I just haven’t wanted to. Tomorrow I think I will go into the craft room/office and just look through my supplies. If that inspires me to start working on some stuff, then great. I won’t start til Monday since my inlaws will be here tonight through Sunday morning and I’ll undoubtedly be busy with them. But I’ll at least go in and see if I feel inspired. If not, I’ll consider what to do from there. Past a certain point if I keep going through my stuff and don’t want to use it, it is time to clear the space and part with it.
I got rid of some makeup yesterday. So that was a good start. I organized the remainder in my brand new vanity that Craig put together for me. I threw old prescription meds in the trash. That was healthy – and a mark of organization. I don’t need the meds so they don’t spark joy. (Whereas every time I see my Lamictal I get a little shot of bliss.) What’s next?
So many things leave us unsatisfied, disappointed, wanting more. Sometimes that is just the result of greed and avarice. But sometimes it is because things or people really have been disappointing. Sometimes friends disappoint us. Everyone has that ex-friend who is out of their lives for a very good reason. Sometimes even our own families disappoint us. Sometimes our relationships with them leave us wanting more, leave us coping with hurt or disappointment or even rage. Some of them mean to fail us. Some don’t.
God never fails. God never disappoints. His love is unfailing. God is reliable. His Word slakes a thirst that water (or an ice cold Coke!) never could. God does no wrong – to anyone. His ways are righteous. He does things for our good, not to harm us. When you can’t count on your family or friends or coworkers or whoever to do right by you, you can count on your just God.
Friendships change. People betray us, the drift away from us, they let us down. Family cannot always be counted on. Sometimes other people, even those we are close to, are bitter, vindictive, controlling, petty, selfish, dishonest,manipulative, and mean spirited. But the one constant in life, in my life, is God. He gives me things I can’t get anywhere else – unconditional love, grace, peace.
Miniature Moon 