My mom loves this song and so do I. I am leaving El Paso, TX tomorrow for Denver, CO and will miss El Paso very much. When I get back to Denver, I will immediately begin sending poems out to journals again. El Paso is warm today. I could wear shorts! It just snowed here, ( a light dusting ;) ) last week. Will miss the border immensely, but things are really working out for me in Colorado these days. Happy New Year!!

http://www.americanpoetry.biz/2011/12/from-poetry-project-newsletter-occupy.html

There are bad books of poetry written by Latinos too. Just sayin'. So is marketing where it's at, solely? I don't think so. I think people push and clamor their way into readings and events and blah, they read, and it's absolutely terrible, but people are polite. Sooo, nobody says X book of poems is lousy. As a matter of fact, some people compliment and swoon because X poet is in a position to get them readings and residencies, but the fact is, as LDC used to say, the proof's in the pudding.

This is me, my brother and mom with my 99 year old grandmother! Great x-mas and a blessed new year to all of us!

Merry Christmas!

So happy for these holidays as I am home and yes, it's snowing on the border!!! Amazing.

Today I got some wonderful feedback on the manuscript. Fact is, with time, it's getting better and better. In any case, I will probably meet with this editor for lunch in January, and I'm learning to be thankful for each improved line, each improved image, and the changing ordering of the poems; boy did I get some much needed help on that with one fantastic email which covered the manuscript well. I am learning patience, which is a VERY good thing. I don't want to publish a crappy book. It's worth the waiting, the editing, the re-visioning. I have a new title and new themed sections on the way yet again. One on El Paso and colonization, one one women and one on the Father figure. It has a great title I think, but I'll wait to share that.

I'm back in El Paso and having a wonderful time with family. My grandmother is now 99, and we will see if she makes it to 100 as she may need a new pacemaker, which can't be replaced due to her age. I hope she makes it to 100.

Here's information about the art show if you are in the Denver area.
http://www.livingartsco-op.com/documents/artshowflyer.pdf

Today, I caught the Christmas spirit! I'm leaving to El Paso on Sunday! Hope to be at Amit's party on Tuesday! Yay! Who is Amit? The editor and publisher of BorderSenses. One nice guy. In any case, Saturday is the art show. After NOT wanting to show up, my books came in today, so I've decided to sell my book, Pity the Drowned Horses, along with the art. People are encouraging me, but, I'm really a beginner. You know it's like someone who's just begun writing saying they are a poet. But I will show up on Saturday with all my pastel and pencil designs. Told someone I didn't care to hear his opinion or get his credit today and it felt really good, REALLY good! My work is cultural and expresses a respect for diversity. Anyone who doesn't respect the IDEA of diversity, doesn't get to tell me to take a poem out of my manuscript. Period.

Sent the manuscript out again after cutting it from 75 pages to 50 pages. Re-titled it too and am Very nervous. But why worry now? I have to keep trying and get the mindset that in time it will be taken. Ugh. Have to get my mind on the newer work and be relentless in sending it out. Hopefully this small independent press will like it. I really like the new title a lot. I've really streamlined it I think, but at the moment I have no sections as sections keep feeling forced, and I want it to flow nicely from one poem to the next without a coerced theme that makes the collection seem uneven.

I have plenty of time to write and think while I'm waiting to hear back I'll work on new work which I will eventually send out to journals. Why worry? I lack confidence. But I am working my way back to having it. I think this press may like it, but I have no idea really if they will as it's very different than Pity and am glad to have dropped the title Seven and the too-heavy load of poems that came with it. It's much lighter and more cohesive, but boy do I worry!!!!

Deep breath. I will re-order the manuscript and re-work poems and send it out again sometime in January to this new press. I believe I may re-title it as well.

At the library looking at ALL the poems I've written since 2005. I'm going to work on gathering the best ones and re-organizing the entire manuscript. I think I'm looking at three sections now, instead of the heavy seven.

Headed to El Paso on Dec. 18th for the holidays. Yay!

Interview with Dagoberto Gilb

CantoMundo is a master writers workshop for Latina/o poets. It will occur in Austin, Texas, July 12-15, 2012.

For more information, go to www.cantomundo.org.

Admission to CantoMundo is by competitive application. The deadline for applications to CantoMundo 2012 is Saturday, December 31, 2011. Guidelines are below.

Submission Guidelines for CantoMundo 2012

Master Poet Craft Workshops
Submit the following:

1. Cover letter (One page, single-spaced, 8½ x 11-sized paper, with 1-inch margins, 12-point Times New Roman font) – Include
   a. Contact Information
   i. Name
   ii. Address
   iii. Phone Number
   iv. Email
   b. Brief history of previous publications and/or public readings/performances
   c. Statement of commitment to CantoMundo vision
   d. What you would like to gain from the CantoMundo retreat
2. Sample of writing (Five pages maximum, single-spaced, 8½ x 11-sized paper, with 1-inch margins, 12-point Times New Roman font)

Criteria for Craft Workshop Selection
The criteria are:

1. a significant record of publishing in poetry (book-length manuscript, chapbook, major journals, etc.) and/or broad and accomplished experience in the performance of original poetry. Self-published work is excluded.
2. Self-identify as Latina/o

Formatting Directions for Applications
WordDocs only
Letter-sized paper (8½ x 11), with 1-inch margins
12-point font, Times New Roman


Email the application packet
Please email the application packet

(Cover Letter and Writing Sample)
as one WordDoc attachment with the heading
CANTOMUNDO 2012 APPLICATION to:
Celeste Guzman Mendoza
cmendoza@cantomundo.org.


All applications must be received by midnight, CST, Saturday, December 31, 2011.
Only email applications will be accepted. 
PLEASE ADHERE TO FORMATTING GUIDELINES.


Poets who gain acceptance will be notified no later than March 5, 2012 (via phone or email).


If you have any questions, please write:
Celeste Guzman Mendoza
cmendoza@cantomundo.org
CantoMundo is committed to including a collective of diverse poetic voices and styles, as well as representation from all Latina/o backgrounds.
Each accepted poet is responsible for her/his own per diem, travel and hotel costs.
Upon acceptance CantoMundo will provide information on discounted hotel rooms.

Oh Lord. AZ rejected my manuscript, my poor little manuscript which has nowhere to go. Maybe. Another press has "invited" me to submit and they are "invitation only," so hopefully my poor poems, my impoverished, skinny little things will find a long lost home! AZ has books published till 2013, a balm to my wounded ego. No, I still have the ego in tact, though self-esteem is teetering. Will I ever find a place for that manuscript? First one falls through,and the second option takes a dive. Is the third time the charm? Is this a hint from the universe that I start again from scratch?!!!  That would be okay. I think maybe I tried to rush due to everyone else publishing books back to back, but alas that's not my destiny. It's slow going down on these lower rungs of the literary establishment and/or po-biz. No Poetry Society of America exposure for my little sad poems and sadder thoughts and posturings about Latino poetry or about poetry.My poems need anti-depressants they are so lonely. But I am trying and I will try and try again.I've sent work to a number of journals I am waiting to hear from. I can work on it all a little more, though these malnourished poems aren't feeding me! They have in the past and I want them to take care of me again, ever? Maybe I should reapply to Yaddo or something. I feel at a loss here with all this time to write and nowhere to publish. I hope my spankin' new press likes my submission.  It's come down to a difficult choice re: next month, but I'm going to go where I can find some shelter from the storm. I hope. I need to be treated well. And my poems should be treated better. They, like me, if anything are persistent little suckers.

"The eradication of poverty is the way to peace."-- Yusef Islam

All is well. All will be well. Everyone is healthy. I've been writing a lot and doing a lot of soul searching. Good things are happening. Good news today!  Peace at last. Wrote some more poems titled so far "Smarter than everyone else," "Sleep," and "The Lonely Woman."

Today, I'm at the Jeffco/Belmar library disappointed because I left my flash drive here yesterday and it's nowhere to be found today. Anyway, reading Alice in Deutschland by Dona Stein, which I hope to review in EPT. Need to order a book I lost in order to review it as well, but mostly just wanting to write and send poems out to magazines. Some new possible titles for poems: "Song for being put away for unsuccessful robberies," "Denial," "Confidence," "The Lonely Woman," and "Residential Treatment Plan." There's an article about Eduardo today in the Arizona Republic here. Well, I suppose I need to re-write letters to poetry editors and get more poems ready to mail. I want to send to a number of journals. A large number. :)

My new mantra. More poems will be out soon. Hard copies for mags that charge for electronic submissions.

Just sent poems to a number of journals, nervously and wildly. Somewhat concerned about my work, not sure where it's going or what it's doing. Lots of "songs"-- Song for the Bully, Song for the Discombobulated, The Song Home, The Song Back. Song for Two Crones. Others reflect my current living conditions waiting for my Social Security Hearing: The Beggars, The Beggar, The Friend, Starting Over ect. Basically, I have a lot of backlogged work. A lot. Not sure what editors will think of it as some of it is quite frank. I wish I were more linguistically acrobatic, but I am writing much shorter poems than I used to write, though I have a long one called "The Final Border." At least I'm sending work out. Fearful it will all come back rejected though, but I suspect something somwhere will be taken.

I've been sending a lot of poems to various journals. Feeling some of the work could be better, but that insecurity is part of what I must get over. Similarly, I was going to sell my drawings for three or four dollars, but I was told by a very good artist that I should sell them for fifty bucks!!! So, I'm going to go to an art co-op meeting tomorrow at noon and doublecheck on that with other artists who do shows at galleries and stuff. It seems a bit high as I'm a beginner, but I am learning a whole lot from visual artists about marketing work in terms of overhead costs, confidence in your product and includingcosts of things like education, postage, materials etc. and I realize I recently really underrated myself re: teaching a workshop at a public school. I said I'd do it for 200 dollars, when I should have said 500. So from now on I'm going to double plus money figures for honorariums and stuff. I have written quite a bit and drawn quite a bit since I am no longer working. It feels good, though I'd like to have poems with more pizazz linguistically. Recently someone showed me his poems, hidden from others for years and let me tell you, they are phenomenal-- best stuff I've read in YEARS! This guy will be publishing soon! But he built up his collection and crafted it very carefully. Some of the most beautiful poems I've ever read and I do have a doctorate in poetry and have kept reading poetry 12 years after I earned the doctorate. So overall, I've been underestimating myself, and this is why I'm sending work out even though I don't feel it's perfect. I have been enjoying the creative process both visually and poetically very much of late. I feel good things are coming.

I'm going to keep on writing! I was very down yesterday, almost ready to give up, thinking I didn't have it in me anymore. No duende. No spark. But I'm back, ready to face the rejection, ready to strive to write something decent.

I've written a lot tonight, and it feels pretty good. Pretty much having a love affair with a Bach c.d.

Going to email U. of Arizona and state that I'd like to make the manuscript better, much better. I'm thinking about retitling it, and creating new sections/section titles. I'm also thinking about shopping it around to other presses as AZ will take a long time. I'd like to make individual poems much stronger. Though one person whoose opinion I trust says it's ready. Two men say it's not, one for the individual poems and the second insists that the whole manuscript/ordering is off and that it's mistitled. I'll feel better taking another thorough look at it. I really don't want to get something in print that I'll later regret.

Spent some time dancing to Beck today. Wrote 3 drafts of poems tonight. It's slowly coming back. Was on radio in El Paso, Texas, but I haven't yet found the link for words on the wire at U.T.E.P.. Will be on Ft. Collins radio station Dec. 4th around 7 pm for the Donna Stein show. Donna Stein is a fantastic and interesting poet, most notably humble. So things are still happening. Thinking about sending manuscript elsewhere aka shopping it around a bit, but I'm so broke it makes that difficult. Thinking about sending to Vassar Miller Prize where Major Jackson will be the judge. It's out of my alma mater's press, UNT.

My new roomate is working out wonderfully. Her piece was also accepted for the Jefferson Center for Mental Health Calendar. Can't believe I am getting paid for artwork. It's very encouraging as a lot of "real" artists entered as there's an artist's co-op that's been formed with a lot of visual artists from the Jeffco/Denver area. I'm thrilled. Maybe I'll go ahead and post a picture if I can figure out how to do so. Yes, I can ask someone for some help with that.

With 100.00 I'm thinking about buying a printer, yet again. Those cheap printers and I don't get along very well for very long, but alas, it would be another cheap one. Then I would like to buy some oil pastels as my designs look better in pastels as this one was picked.  I'd also like to buy some copies of Pity the Drowned Horses, as I've gone years without copies. I will try to sell some at the artshow on Dec. 17th. I just hope they sell, and I'm selling them for 18.00 a pop too!!!

I have value! I have worth! What a concept. Better late than never.

Got my new computer today!!! Woo Hoo!!!!

Won $100.00 for a piece of artwork I did!!! Woo Hoo!!!

Feeling better as sun came out after snow. I prefer that sun! I have 16 minutes left on computer. Mom mailed my new notebook today, so I'm excited to receive it. Have printed some poems out here at the library for 20 cents a page, which seems ridiculously high, but I will slowly print stuff out, and I'll also submit electronically to a number of journals. Will revise more intensely when I have computer.

The library is good for me as it gets me reading. Will check out poetry section before I leave as I've almost finished Milosz, which I heard the Polish pronunciation, but I tend to use the American pronunciation which is something like Miloch. I really like his essays, his reflections on many lost to World War II death camps, as well as Russian gulags. He rubbed elbows with a number of significant personalities including Camus, which I used to pronounce with the "s". ;) Same with Goethe early on- mispronunciation. In graduate school, once, I couldn't pronounce "mimicry." But as someone pointed out to me yesterday, I am somewhat knowledgeable about poetry and literature as I did study it for so long. I am getting ready to turn 47 and am well aware that I am quite a bit older than a number of "emerging" poets. All I can say is it's been a struggle to have time to pursue what I consider a leisurely passion. Poetry is a luxury.

Feeling kind of down, with the first snow which is still falling. I'm guessing 8 inches as predicted. Roads are sloshed. Printed out a few poems which I will try to send out despite feeling very down. I don't do well with winter cold I suppose.

I've been reading Rilke's Book of Hours: Love Poems to God and Milosz's ABC's. Reading is the only thing that can save me as a poet, as I'm down. U of AZ press hasn't yet waded through manuscript and I have people whispering in my ear, telling me it's just not ready, telling me they've published some bad books, at least one, but then again the source is questionable, in that he feels one should only write in English, which is absurd. Some are telling me I should only publish a chapbook.

In any case, the struggle with confidence has again come to a headway, as I am down and frustrated, but my mother just got me a new computer which she will ship soon. My mother is the only reason I'm living under the AND (Aid to Needy Disabled) and surviving.

My social security hearing is scheduled for March 21, 2012, and yes, it's been a long wait. Not sure what will happen. Very concerned and worried, then realize that worrying won't do me any good.

I really do like Milosz and the other day I was very excited and engaged reading these short essays. Here's a quote:

"People go to church because they are divided beings. They wish, for a moment at least, to find themselves in a reality other than the one that surrounds them and claims to be the only true reality. This daily reality is unyielding, brutal, cruel, and hard to bear... "

Yet in the end he seems to state it is advisable to have familiarity with the "so called truths of the faith".

So in any case, his position seems intentionally obscure. Whereas Rilke's poems ring with a faith I have long since lost in many ways. They are beautiful, though the translation I have has the German titles. So faith has been on my mind of late, and frustration too.

At the library, frustrated because I've been unable to play cityville :(   Have the 50 plus files on a flash drive, but it's difficult as you are always waiting to get booted off the computer. Need to go through these poems and print them out, but printing out here costs 20 cents per page, and I have no 20 cents, but I do have freedom within.

Will get to looking at these poems since I can't play cityville. It's a simple twist of fate...

Time a shard, a blissful falling of yellow leaves
Diagonally in the breeze, a whisk of dandelions,
All beauty subjective, the split image of self
Lost in the tumult of rain clouds, black and gray,
A sigh in the willow of the body, a waving, a giving way.
Time a song, violins and trumpets, the hollowing away
Of the false image, the one we put on like a mask.
There are a million ways we don’t get what we want.
This journey, no wood, no dark path of matter,
No emptying only emptying. The eyes closed
And we learn to listen? The wind bringing winter,
The first snow fall, give into it now.
Time a knife, a sunset pink and billowing,
The day a new resurrection, and we are reborn
As the sky, reborn as the blackbirds and robins.
Time a shard, a blissful whisper of leaves pattering
In the wind. All is landscape, the internal organs
Dark in their holy places, and we are but  moments
Strung together in image and sound. Tactile
Hallucinations, the river inside your palm
Measures time. The glistening winter that tells us
Death is near and cold and possibly beautiful,
The ugly losses weighing us down, the way we can’t see
Our downfall even in the midst of falling.

Gray goatee, a clean thick backpack with newness and black leather Written on it. Designer glasses and a pair of jeans worn and washed for weeks. This is the way a man refuses help, sees himself a victim of circumstances. Years of crazy landlords and lost jobs, he’s grown frustrated and clenches fists Bitching against the Starbucks empire, and he’s aged. He refuses the nearest shelter for weeks protecting his Macbook from theft. I am seeing with glasses of judgment. Some send prayers To a God indifferent to starvation and worry, with hope for an intervention, But how can he ask for help in a social contract that binds one to death? He is counting the words in a poem, eyeing the leaves falling diagonally in the breeze. Death as beautiful, and he says, the tree’s still alive, the tree’s still alive. The world a blue globe of forgetting. The homeless sometimes bitter, Enraged, a plastic bag of belongings held on to as if it were life. I’d like the language of rainfall, the patter of magic, but it’s like this, We can’t see ourselves some days. The path lit with a strange fire, Yellow leaves cluttering the gutter. He walks with tennis shoes, lit With red shoe laces.

Trying to get back to writing. Will bring flash drive to library. Turning in circles, really as far as writing poems. A lot of talk. Relieved to not be teaching. Will try to write something on pen and paper as my computer died in that it won't charge. I have 8 minutes left on library computer. Was hoping that it would give me more time. Will be getting a computer soon though thanks to family. Fall is here and it's looking pretty good, but it sure is getting nippy in Colorado. Snow will come soon. Will begin revising 50 plus files when I remember to bring the flash drive with the poems on it, hopefully tomorrow. Really like this video. Not going to AWP and feeling somewhat a disconnect with other poets and writers, but feeling free in my life as I do have time to focus on healing. Blessings.

Will read a poem tomorrow for Words on the Wire in El Paso, Tx. and speak a bit about how El Paso is a wondrous place around 1pm! Many people in the city have a negative opinion of their hometown, so I've decided to share how travel informed my opinion about the place. Mostly it's poverty and its geographical isolation that came to my mind as I left the country and traveled around the country. I think I need to rewrite my notes and tie them more into my past travels and this view of its socioeconomic hardships, and how that helps define its beauty. I think I decided to read "Las Alas" instead of "River Ghost," as it is more of a praise song about the city. Still waiting to hear something from U. of Arizona press. Eager to send to other presses if I need to, but of course it's a waiting game. Need to get busy with the writing again, as I've focused on drawing the past few weeks. Will get to it tomorrow. I am moving downstairs and getting a new roommate, and I'm discovering I simply have too many books. Not sure what I'm going to do at this point. I may take them back to Texas, or I may try to sell them. It's painful to let go of so many good poetry books etc, but I simply don't have the room for them at this point. I think some day I will invest in a kindle. The books are heavy, and I don't think I can fit all of them into the car in December. Maybe if I make 2 trips I can get them all back to El Paso. Sitting in a cafe in Old Town Arvada, but I'm getting ready to head back home. I do still love Dylan after all these years. Will do radio show and hopefully begin working on the 50 plus files/poems I found the other week.

The symposium was great! I met Juliana Araqgon Fatula, and we may get together and read with Maria Melendez in Denver; Juan Morales can be the lone guy. It was nice to be around other Chicana/o poets for a change. Denver is a bit lonely for me as a poet. Most poets I know are experimental and somewhat against the narrative. It was nice to be around poets with something in common, a little taste of Canto Mundo, a little taste of story telling and lyricism. I really enjoyed it despite being VERY nervous before I read. Today I'm at Starbucks with my roommate and will journal a bit. Maybe I'll hear from U. of AZ this month. If not, I think I'll shoot them an email, as Carnegie Mellon only reads in October. All is well. I'm doing much better and healing. A man, a prof at the symposium said, "creative writing" is not therapy. I kind of disagree, but I feel one can engage in creative writing and not heal because they aren't in real therapy or "really dealing" and out of denial. I lived 43 years in denial, but it was kind of unavoidable as I didn't remember events until my step-father died. My anger seemed to be coming out of nowhere. When he died I did not weep.

Going here tomorrow: Southern Colorado Rhetoric Symposium. Looking forward to reading some poems. It's been a long time since I've been involved with anything remotely academic. It's a 3 hour drive, and I'm going with a friend. Still nervously waiting to hear something from U. of AZ. :( I want to send something to Carnegie Mellon this month, but I doubt I can afford it. Hmmm. What presses are free to send to? Those are the ones I'll be looking into. "The traumatic experiences you had may have led you to believe that nobody can possibly understand what you went through and what happened to you. Not only can others not understand traumas themselves, but they cannot understand why you react as you do and why you think so poorly about yourself. McKay and Rogers 2000) discuss how triggers that bring back various aspects of the trauma (emotions, thoughts, memories, etc.) can lead to negative perceptions of yourself in relation to others. When you perceive that you have been harmed and victimized deliberately and intentionally, as well as that you were totally helpless and powerless to do anything about what happened to you, you can develop feelings of helplessness." I'm learning a lot about saying no, about being less of a victim and more of a survivor. It feels good.

Two poems accepted by NEW BORDER WRITING anthology. I got on fire about sending work out to journals, and hopefully putting together a manuscript of work I've found. Feeling free with my life these days though I have no money. Need another printer, but will go to the library to print out poems later in the month. Need to type up one review, read a novel to review, review another poetry book, write a speech thingy for this symposium I'm attending and a five minute radio show/ podcast? where I'm to give an opinion on something. I'm doing poetry, place and travel for that too and will do a shout out for my "friends." ;) Also need to do some art work for the JCMH art show where I will be trying to sell some pencil drawings or designs I've done. It's mostly for fun, and I enjoy drawing. So it's not a "real" art show, but it is something I'm looking forward to doing.

Just saved a lot of poems/drafts on my flash drive, and I'm amazed! I have well over 50 files with poems that don't seem that bad!! They are working together too!!! So, I'll be sending these out from a library computer if I can't afford to get a new printer this month. Freeing!!! I had no idea I had so much work that's gone unsent to journals. I hope to put these in a collection about the journey of healing from abuse. I'm tickled to death with myself. I HAVE been working. My self-esteem just prevented me from realizing all the work I've done over the past 5-6 years. Yes, I think I have two manuscripts to send out. The one at U. of Arizona (Seven) and this new one. And yes, the poems are actually working together. I was so focused on healing and getting over 2008 that I had no idea I'd written so much. Now, we'll just have to send them out into the universe to see if anyone likes them. This feels good!!!

I've been reading the April 2011 edition of POETRY and am literally writing the poems out longhand. I really like W.S. Di Pero's work a lot. Lots of moving lines. I'm going to walk tonight and try to come up with some lines. Slow going, but I suspect I'll find a line or two tonight. I realize I need to slow down in my work. I often do have a manic sensibility which gets me tripped up sometimes. Slow down. Careful word choice. Hear the music.

Doing better, though I did fall out of bed and break my printer, which was on the floor. :( * The computer seems better after defragging the disk and repeatedly running a disk check. Tomorrow there are no groups, so I hope to work on some poems. Still reading THE COURAGE TO HEAL and finding it VERY helpful.

Computer is still hanging on, maybe it's a software thing. My bro will try to fix it in Dec. 42 Ways to Say No (or buy time until you can) When someone asks you to do something for them or with them: 1. The enthusiastic (polite/helpful etc.) part of me would like to say yes, but the rest of me is over committed (more realistic/unwilling). 2. I don't know! I'll have to think that over. 3. I wish I could help you out, but I'm over extended/overcommitted right now. 4. I'm going to pass. I'm really trying to slow down my pace these days. 5. That's something I'll have to think about. 6. I don't have my calandar with me, but I can call and let you know tomorrow. 7. Sorry, I'm already booked. 8. No, I can't make it after all. But it was nice of you to ask. 9. I'll think it over. 10. Thanks, but I'm way too tired. 11. No, that's not really my thing. 12. Don't hold your breath. 13. I have an appointment that day/night. (And you don't have to say what it is!) 14. That's not for me, thanks. 15. Oh, that sounds interesting. Let me think about it and get back to you. 16. I'm not sure if I'm free that day/night. Let me check and call you tomorrow. 17. Sorry, but my schedule is too full right now. 18. The part of me that wants to make you happy wants to say yes, but the rest of me won the vote. 19. Thanks, but I don't think I will. 20. That's not really something I enjoy. 21. That doesn't work for me. 22. That doesn't fit for me. 23. When you want to have some fun saying no, try one of these: Not in this lifetime! Forget it! Dream on! You must be kidding! Not in a million years. Are you out of your tiny little mind? When Someone does, asks, or says something invasive: 24,I'm not comfortable with that. 25. I'd like to ask you not to _____ 26. I'd like you to stop____ 27, Please stop doing that. I don't like it. 28. I'm uncomfortable right now with what you're saying/doing. 29. That's not something I talk about except with family. 30. Let's talk about something else. 31. I want to keep that to myself. 32. That's my business. 33. I'm surprised you think you have a right to that info. 34. I don't feel like talking about it. 35. Are you asking me this because...? (Try saying this one with a look of disbelief.) 36. Sorry that's not something I talk about. 37. I never answer questions like that. When someone says something you disagree with: 38. I see it differently than you do. 39. We certainly don't agree about that. 40. I have a different point of view. 41. My experience of _______ is somewhat different. 42. I hear what you are saying, but I don't agree with it. From THE COURAGE TO HEAL. Ellen Bass & Laura Davis 4th edition. Collins Living. A lot of difficulty saying no, disagreeing as when I was a child, that was not an option. Feeling good these days. Will attend RHETORICAL LANDSCAPES: Reshaping Technology, Theory and Tradition at Colorado State University-Pueblo and speak on POETRY, PLACE and TRAVEL.

I'm in a bad mood as computer is dying. I think I need a new hard drive/ a new computer, which isn't going to happen at this time. My hearing isn't for another 7-8 months, so I'm kind of screwed. Will go to the Summit Center/Clubhouse to see if I can use their computers. Hopefully, miraculously this problem will get better. I think the hard drive is just old, so I'm going to try to save my newer work, along with the manuscript, which I do already have on flash-drive and email. What a bummer. Want to buy a hard drive at Best Buy, but I don't have any money at this time. We'll see. Have a number of poems I would like to send out and hope to send out before the computer dies. Doing cross-word puzzles and word finds to pass the time. Will go for a walk tonight as abilify has helped pack the weight on. Now on a new drug called Latuda. I'm on VERY expensive meds but am in a Colorado program and programs with the prescription drug companies for poor and indigent people. Yeah, I'm kinda indigent. But I do have a roof over my head and plenty of food, so I am very blessed. I am not much a believer in prayer, but if you are pray I can save these poems. Like wild horses in Wyoming No Longer Writing Arroyos One Pansy Greets the Day Only Clouds A Contentious Woman Speaks After All Awe Four Little Buddhas Here comes the Rain La Mano Negra We'll see. I'm going to get to trying to save them and will blog later. Have a wonderful fall! The trees are changing colors here, and it always surprises me how that creeps up on me, unnoticed. Be aware. I am aware of many blessings today. I will focus on those instead of the possible loss of a computer. I can always write long hand.

Still sick. At Starbucks reading and enjoying myself, ignoring calls, ignoring roomate and others who need a ride etc. Reading a book, a hard book on the effects of sexual abuse on one's ability to be intimate. Looking back on 40 years plus of shutting down and shutting people out. It's hard really. Will continue to work on these issues. Drinking my second cup of coffee. Spent part of my rent money on the coffee, will just owe a couple of bucks more next month. * Groups are coming up soon again after a two week break. Thank god. I do terrible when I don't have anything at all to do. Groups in the morning are good because they get me up and about, and then I can write/walk etc. in the afternoon, early evening. But I'm having to learn to put boundaries up as not many folks on SSI have a car, and well I have a car, and everyone wants a ride!! I can't take it anymore. One guy's going to give me 10 bucks gas money, but others, well others will take a mile if you give them an inch, and it's hard for me to say no, but I'm getting better at it as I simply just left the complex today. Freedom. I am ignoring my phone, so don't call :) * "Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding." -- Kahil Gilbran THE PROPHET * I obviously love Cat Stevens and consider him a poet in much the same way I consider Dylan a poet. *

Getting my blood drawn this morning and am having to fast, but I am drinking coffee. I am sick with a cough, a bad one. But it should pass in a day or two. My mother has chronic bronchitis, so I can't imagine being stuck with that! I've been spending my time drawing designs with colored pencils, reading a bit and have recently tried word finds/puzzles to get my mind off my worries. It works well. Back to 100 Years of Solitude today while I wait in the waiting room at the clinic because I know I will have to wait, but this clinic is pretty good, and I can be seen without having a co-pay, which would NEVER HAPPEN in Texas, that's one of the reasons I am staying in Colorado for the time being. I've been blogging a lot though blogging is dead. This in many ways is a secondary notebook to the journal I maintain. I have a few poems/drafts written in the journal and found a number of poems which I am going to send out soon. I'm going to send to Palabra and Ploughshares, though Ploughshares has consistently rejected me over the years. I am not in the know. I am feeling hesitant about my recent work. Some poems are narrative, and others aren't quite lyrical or narrative. I may post some shorter ones here, which I don't feel are publishable, then again I never seem to read which poems will be taken, but I have 14 new ones published, which feels good, but I'd like to get into some better journals, or I should say more institution affiliated journals, then again, some independent journals are stellar. I love going to Tattered Cover to read journals. I currently still have work out at a number of journals, some of which I sent way back in March, not sure what will happen with those as they, if I remember correctly were quite fragmented, but people seem to like that now. I can't seem to write organically whole pieces anymore, or as of late. In any case, I have a lot of drafts that need revision, and I have to decide which ones are keepers and which ones I will trash. * I am going to attend a symposium in Pueblo in October, but I need to sketch out my ideas and what I will speak about on a panel dealing with language, travel and poetry. * Reading non-poetry stuff but will read some more poetry soon, as I feel it helps me write better. I feel stuck in some ways, but people take my poems. Hoping they are working. I haven't had a reading in a long time, but will read on this panel at CU-Pueblo. * Will go to El Paso for Christmas, and I'm looking forward to it as I am homesick, but I've grown to love Colorado. People say it's dry here, but compared to the desert of west Texas, this seems pristine and quite green to me. I guess everything is relative. * I've lost any audience I had early possibly. But blogging keeps me thinking about poems, when it's hard to think about them. It keeps me focused on writing, when it seems like I'm very far from the writing world. But I am writing about poor people. I read recently that due to food stamps and other programs, we don't really have poor people. I find this hard to believe as I live off of 175.00 a month now. But yes, food stamps help, and it's a blessing to live in a country which provides them. * Career: my "career" has crashed? I don't know. I thought about applying for a job, but I'm not ready. It's difficult to explain why other than to state I need healing, a lot of healing, but people who know me say I am doing much, much better in that I don't put myself down as much, and see more positive things; recently I did get depressed and am starting to believe it's largely chemical as I have no reason to be depressed. Life is kind to me these days. I have no money, but I am resting up and taking care of myself which feels good. Take care

6:03 a.m. and I am going walking in about 30 minutes. I was invited to a symposium/conference but don't have the gas $ to get there. I think I'm going to ask someone for help with that and see if it's not too late to attend. It may be too late, but it doesn't hurt to try. They've kindly offered a place to stay. Should've responded a week ago, but I had plenty of my own stuff going on. If not, fine. I have a cough/cold, but I think I need to start walking. Fact is, a lot of medications cause weight gain and weight gain I've had. It's enough to make you want to not take them anymore, but in any case, I am tapering off abilify, which could be the heavy, and I do mean heavy culprit. Fact is, I didn't believe in medication, and it got me in all sorts of troubles and difficulties with people, institutions and career (or lack there of). The flip-side is the meds seem to cause weight gain and memory difficulty. I take Strattera to help me focus, yet I have a difficult time still focusing, but that's been raised 10 mg. I think this stuff matters, as some feel meds are very bad. Fact is, being off them didn't work well for me. When I was younger, late 20's early 30's I took meds which also caused a lot of weight gain. So I decided not to take them, and the decade I didn't wreaked havoc on my potential job opportunities. I didn't realize this until 2009 or 2010. It was my own limitations which hampered myself not the doings of others. It's difficult to accept one needs chemicals to regulate emotions and even physical responses to emotions and particularly paranoia or hyper-vigilence. But the fact is when I refuse meds, I am in all sorts of difficulties with other people and my thinking gets very distorted. In 2008 I got really sick and I understand now that for the time being, I need to regulate my emotions, which otherwise are fiery, difficult and even numb at times. I think since I've been back on them too, that they are better than they were in the late 90's early 2Ks. I've gained a lot of weight this past year though, so I am frustrated. So I figure I need to start seriously walking and watching my diet. All of this is probably uninteresting. I don't know. There's only so much nature awe one can discuss on a blog. Relationships and histories seem more interesting to me. Poetry in many ways has taken a back seat, yet I published 14 poems recently. My most recent acceptance is for Mutabilis Press's anthology of Texas/ Texas related writers. They accepted "Chico's Taco's" which was previously published in FEMINIST STUDIES. I'm going to have to call El Paso Times as there is a new editor. I need to make sure my last 3 reviews get printed, and I need to ask if the books page will remain as is, or if there will be changes, as we all know reviews don't get a lot of press print in this day and age, especially poetry reviews. I suspect they'll appear, but I am wondering what this new editor will do. Well, the sun is coming up so it's time to get moving. More blathering later. Take care.

I like this version best. I'm back home again and feeling much better. I finished writing the review for Millicent Borges Accardi's book INJURING ETERNITY and just need to type it. I will begin reading OCOTILLO DREAMS by Melinda Palacio. I'm now on a mood stabilizer which seems to be helping a lot. I have a new journal and am almost finished filling out the old one. I will hopefully begin organizing my poems into packets/online submission files. I met a wonderful young man who is concerned with spiritual growth and interested in going to Tibet. I found him to be intelligent despite being sick, positive about life and eager to learn. I most definitely think he has/will inspire a poem. He was feeling better when I left the house, so I think he will be fine. My roommate took a dive down the stairs and has contusions on her face in a bad way. I feel guilty for not being here, but I have to take care of myself, and I am learning to take care of myself. I am letting go of perceived judgments by other people. We are simply limited by our individuality and we miss so much around us sometimes, steeped in our own problems. I am trying to be at peace and will walk and write more. Time to write. I have a doctor's appointment this afternoon and am saying goodbye to people full of judgment. Also, it's time to let someone fend for themselves. I am not a caretaker. Ugh, that sounds cold. But I mean we have to take care of ourselves first; otherwise we are no good to anyone. Adios.

I'm feeling better. Trying to not let people's judgments worry me. In any case, put on trazadone this morning and will stay at least one more day. Long story, but dealing with an addict is NO FUN. I am not schizophrenic, but have times been diagnosed schizoaffective, so I am just worn out. I have PTSD for sure too, and maybe it's more PTSD than anything, but I am thinking about working my way to becoming a peer-specialist, which is someone who helps people out by taking them for coffee, appointments etc. I have been told by a lot of people that I'll be good at it, but I do miss teaching. I'm just not ready to do such a thing at this time. Maybe some day in the future. Will try to write today as I've been antsy and not sleeping, hence the trazadone. All is well. Peace.

Wow, someone did get mad re: my last post. Interesting. I can read em like a book. In any case, I have interest in my well being and the well being of others. A young man, staying where I'm at responds to internal stimuli by talking to himself endlessly, or someone else, but the psychosis is real and it is a serious illness. 4 a,m. often and this is why I am here trying to see if I can't get meds that work better and that can pull me out of depression. This young man walks for hours and sometimes grows very agitated at 4 a.m.. I too wake at 4 a.m. and worry with a series of rushing thoughts and severe migraines..Not sleeping for days causes problems. I know someone not sleeping now who is homeless and perfectly sane, but he needs to get rest soon I believe. Some ass possibly the judgmental type unsubscribed after the last post. Why? Christian huff n puff. Too personal? Not enough poetry? Stigma that equals ignorance? Hmmm. Well, I'm here and I'm going to keep posting the things that can help me get better, the things that cut through beyond nicey nicey collective networking because I am human and interested in what's going on with my life. That's what a blog is for, right? Besides, this may be my path or calling possibly. I'm not sure teaching is, though I'd take a shot at teaching poetry. Perhaps the fact I was on SSI when I was younger irritated some. Perhaps the fact that I'm receiving some disability made someone mad. So, someone wants to JUDGE. Possibly some activist. Hmmm. I think someone in this world is following me now about this sad hypocrisy. I have hope that Latino/a poetry, art and creativity in general doesn't need to be cut off from reality. I am writing poems about the young man above, about my own struggles with this illness, which may stay with me a long time or may finally subside to the point I can work again. And there's that slippery academic word. Reality or experience. I've already stated what I believe to be the case about that. If there's no reality, there's no need, no hunger, no sensory perception. I don't know. What is sanity after all? Is sanity really aiming high for a career as a poet? Is sanity really teaching too many classes to have time to write or breathe or love the daffodils and sunset? Is sanity really building an empire of Latino/a poets where some are excluded and mocked? Is sanity writing poems? Is sanity networking to the bone until there is no sinew, no blood, no muscle? Is sanity liking stuff on facebook quickly and simply moving on to the next like? I don't know what sanity is anymore, but I do know what insanity is: It's doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. So I'm changing my life.

Just sent my review of ire'ne lara silva's FURIA to the EL PASO TIMES. Still getting my medication changed up, and the truth of the matter is I've been very down, down, down. I've lost one good friend, and my "career" isn't. So I'm tired of people judging me and thinking that they are superior. I am working hard and have apologized to everyone I can think of re: my actions in the past. There's nothing more I can do. I have to learn to love myself. I am praying U of AZ will like my manuscript, as I've decided after sending it to cut a few poems. Life is a series of let downs someone said. But I am plodding on and reading today, despite feeling negative. I left 100 YEARS OF SOLITUDE at the apartment, but I found a copy of PILGRIM AT TINKER CREEK by Annie Dillard, which I read in school many years ago. I suspect I will enjoy it more this time around. Fact is I have a lot of trouble reading and writing these days, but I am putting out book reviews, so the high and mighty careerists can bite me. This is more about some things that are beyond certain people's empathy. Fact is, I am fighting boredom. I've been denied a pass like three times because I am trying new meds, one is latuda , abilify (which I should get off of tomorrow as I believe they are making a mistake in giving it to me at this time), and lamictal for prozac propranolol, ambien and ativan, so I'm very bored and feeling cramped with like 7 other people here. I am posting this video because someone VERY JUDGMENTAL needs to try to "hear" it again. I'd like to speak with this person and tell them a little bit about trauma and getting sick because as a Christian or whatever, they need to try to be more kind and learn to forgive. That's all I'll say about it. In any case, I am currently taking: Strattera, abilify, lamictal, propranolol, latunda, ambien and ativan, so it is a lot from my past and a lot of other things, but I am tired of this person's high and mighty attitude towards me, among others, and as far as someone downplaying my situation, I'd like to have him take my medication and deal with what he thinks is a minor thing rooted in irresponsibility. I am hopefully going to go home tomorrow. And I'd like to speak on this topic of judgment, stigma and stupidity somewhat further later. In any case, blogger is acting funny, few people read, and I'm tired of worrying about what judgmental people think. I am feeling too much like writing at the moment which possibly isn't a good thing, but I know people have no clue about some things. I will read PILGRIM AT TINKER CREEK now, but will probably blog later as I am bored, but the fact is I can't work now. It's a long story, but I hope to get my social security back in about 8 months. As I now have time to write, I will force myself out of depression because I have to. So, it's a lucky thing I'm not sending emails as I am not that far gone. So I apologize for all the emails I sent and wish people could forgive. But I have to move on and write these reviews and write some poems. I have no idea if I can write anymore as it is difficult to focus, but blogging tells me there is reason to hope that I'll write, and I did publish 13 poems this spring. I may link to some blogs on PTSD, bipolar, schizoaffective to see what kind of judgmental response I get on that. Thank god I have a pc card.

Today, I am still typing the same review, ever so slowly. I am enjoying INJURING ETERNITY by Millicent Borges Accardi. I will rest today and journal, I think. I was put on another med, 3 times a day which is supposed to help me relax, and I'm all for relaxing today. I am getting used to not having to work and losing everything like wallets, credit cards etc. Anyone who really knows me knows I have/had this problem. When I'm not working, I am more able to hold onto things. It's ADD or ADHD, which I'm not sure, but I take Strattera to help me focus better and it really works well. I think a lot of poets I know have ADD... In any case, I drink a lot of coffee, which is supposed to help ADD. And today, once again, there is no coffee and it's really bothering me. I can have some later, but in the now I'm cranky. But the fact I'm no longer working, leaves me to blogging, journaling, drawing etc. I'm very lucky as my roomate has no hobbies to keep her entertained. In any case, I'm still waiting for my Social Security hearing, which I think is in about 8-9 months, which seems inhumane and cruel, but I do have Aid to Needy Disabled or something like that-- the big $175.00 a month, and it's getting difficult as I can't afford much beyond rent, which I'll have to pay back with SSDI if I get it. I'm really worried, as I've had some difficulties working, not just teaching. I had a terrible time at 7-11. In any case, I should be able to get it as I was on it in the past. Yes, it's transparency time. I think I may start writing more about my experiences. I'm tired of academics writing about stuff they don't experience or those who feel experience is irrelevant or unreal. I realize people judge people for things, but I know my own experiences. And I will add that the nurse here is a total bitch.

Will type up a review sometime soon. :| Need to get motivated. No caffeine this morning, really, and I feel like a heavy stone sunk into caked mud.

Will review a manuscript and send it back with comments in the next few days. Really, I will. I will. I will. I even have the money to send it back now. No, I don't use that program that allows you to make comments electronically-- Maybe next time.

I am also beginning INJURING ETERNITY by Millicent Borges Accardi for the following review, then I'll have two more to do by December.

Struggling with focusing somewhat, but I did have my meds changed this morning and we'll see if I can concentrate better and be less of a putz. Maybe I should be hush hush, but it's the case that I messed up rather badly in getting off them, and here I am again getting new changes, but I feel it will help in the long run to be transparent. I don't want another 2008.

*

I'm not sure if there's a god or creator. I want to believe it so with the assurance of heaven and everlasting bliss, but something tells me the universe isn't made so, more of the yin/yang darkness/light that S believed in till the day she died. She also believed in reincarnation, not sure what religion/belief system that comes out of, but non-the-less when I look carefully around, I see life and death almost intermingling, as if they were one process or event, rather than two. I really want to believe in God, and I wear a pendant of the Virgin Mary for somewhat cultural and political reasons, having grown up Catholic. When I was young I attended a church where monks lived in El Paso, and mass was chanted in Latin. It left an indelible mark on me. Today, the reality of death seems too earthy, too real. Is it fear that's made religion? I don't know. My family is very religious, so much so, that I fear they ignore more serious psychological issues in order to survive in the fog/bliss of hope for eternal existence. Then again S always said, "the energy has to go somewhere." All life for her was this energy, and she was a practitioner of Reike. It feels more comfortable to believe in the universe rather than a god, or maybe the universe is god. I don't know. If you have anything to suggest I read, please do. I have read the New Testament pretty thoroughly when I was a young fanatic for Jesus ;), so I'm interested in pondering these questions. I am not quite philosophical as I lack the vocabulary for that, but I am always curious.

I think when we die, we die. That's that. Our particles, atoms, energy may go somewhere, but it's likely we are spread all apart, and no longer exist as we were. Some days I say thank god to that. Then the Catholic guilt I was raised with rears its ugly head.

*

On to INJURING ETERNITY (no pun was intended; how ironic).

:)

Cheers.

Sleepless night, worry, trauma, the difficulty
Of words. Forgetting sets in after it hits you.
Only images can save you. I am waiting for sunrise.
This is how we survive through the snow, frost and thunder.
We lift words and seek to find our power.
Child in the classroom afraid and insecure,
We are clapping to a tune so we can breathe again:
inhale hope, exhale worry. He says the answer lies within.
The aunt is teaching children to pray,
The uncle’s riding his Harley through Denver.
Let go-- this is the final cigarette. A mantra
Towards sunrise. The lone star above still as early prayer.
The violence that people can do children
Is something better left out of poems.
It’s as black as dreamless sleep, black as a universe.
I’m waiting for two rabbits with a bag of carrots.
The lone white rat hides in the bushes behind me.
Language stole away with memory.
The gaps and fragments jagged and I bled and said.
He said, I never smiled.
He said, I was as anxious as a deer or a leaf or a butterfly?
I heard the voices of dragonflies, human-eyed.
There was no white swan, no god, no lover.
And am I to stay stuck?
This is why I wait for sunrise.
He went five days without sleep, stayed up
All night in Denny’s, washed in the bathroom.
Slept a few minutes in the library.
The language of trauma flat, a jerk away
From a raised hand. The summer ending
And the night cold--

I have been writing again. Just need to engage in revision more. Behind on reviews, but I will get to them. I have 3 more to do. I have one written and just need to type it up which I will probably do tomorrow, then send it to EPT on Monday.

Wrote four solid drafts of poems tonight. It feels good. Revision time is here, lots of time looking at things line by line. I've decided to hold off sending stuff out until we get into our new apartment on Fenton.

I'm at the library reading and taking notes on furiaby ire'ne lara silva. It's a beautiful day! Will journal a bit as well.

In need of a scanner, which there's no way I can purchase now. Luckily I know someone with a scanner, so there's no excuse to keep putting off these book reviews.

At the library checking out a number of books on childhood sexual abuse and healing. Yesterday I was very embarrassed, but today I am feeling okay. Some things one must deal with and recognize shame doesn't have to be part of the scenario.

Will get to writing some poems tonight and revising as I'd like to send work out by or during September to literary journals.

Will comment soon on someone's manuscript, but I'm still too broke to mail it back, but will do so on the first.

One of the books I am going to check out is called THE COURAGE TO HEAL . I feel this book may be of some help to me. Lots of drama of late surrounding the past, but I am 46 now and able to care for myself. It's a relief remembering things and understanding where my anger came from. I have to forgive myself.

"All you need is love!"
Followed by "Don't Let me Down."

Will cook tacos tonight. I am still not writing and I owe someone her poems with comments, actually two folks. I will get to this tomorrow for sure. I have limited data usage on my account. Though I'm at Starbucks, it's too noisy to concentrate. Some lovely poems, indeed! Wow! I am honored to know so many stellar poets. I am focusing on them here on out instead of crappy ones.

What does dating by design mean? Someone let me know.

Thanks

Things are going f-a-n-t-a-s-t-i-c after a real downturn. I am going to buy a cd player next week and am relieved since I will be able to listen to music and write. Some people prefer absolute silence, but not me.

I need to start Ocotillo Dreams by Melinda Palacio and furia by Ire'ne Lara Silva. Then I will review Millicent Borges Accardi's Injuring Eternity.

I think I prefer to post Red, Red Wine, but I will post Flyleaf for now. I think I'm the only one listening, but I really like listening to the tunes.

Okay, I want to hear this one too.



Yes, I posted on facebook about how I indulged in red, red wine in October 2008- December 2008, maybe longer? I was not well. Now I'm free to read 100 Years of Solitude, hum and maybe take a long walk this afternoon. Be careful of that wine, it will make you crazy. ;) But seriously, I deeply regret my action and in-action at that time. I was really struggling. I think a lot of this is explored in second collection, but I need to work on it further I feel. I will cut a few poems out of the manuscript, which is a bit painful to the ego, but I think it's necessary.

Glad to be writing again.

Glad to be clear-headed.

Received some great comments on my manuscript today. Will work on it again soon.

Thinking a bit about how drugs ruin lives. There's not a lot one can do about either.

I know someone who is homeless and too proud to ask for help.

I know someone who is smoking out and ruining their life.

I have 4 poems up at Acentos Review.

I'm going to read Elizabeth Bishop tonight. I've also started ONE HUNDRED YEARS OF SOLITUDE by Gabriel Garcia Marquez and am loving it, though I have to read just a little bit at a time. My brain is more suited to reading poetry.

I also have a book review to work on, but I'll probably work on it tomorrow. I will glance at it a bit tonight.

I'm also going to try to write a bit, but it is hard as my cd player is broken, but I hope to buy a new one at the beginning of Sept. which isn't easy as I am living on a very limited budget, but I need my music!

Felt like listening to this song today. Will try to write a bit and cook dinner. Saw Maria Melendez at the reading last night! The reading was very good. I look forward to reading Melinda Palacio's novel. Yes, I have a need to communicate--- yes, it gets me into trouble.

I will journal a bit tonight as well and draw. These things, creativity in general, give me hope to go on when it seems life is some sort of cruel joke.

The dvd player on my computer broke :( Not good! I can't listen to my cd's now. Time to learn how to download music. Yes, I'm old.

Time to write a poem to this song.

Tonight I will go hear Melinda Palacio read from her new novel Ocotillo Dreams, which I will do a book review on soon.

I am still working, with help on another review, and have three more to do after these two. I have to find time to write my own stuff, and of late, I've had a lot of doubt about my ability, as so many of the poems I've written lately are fragmented. I think I'll post one I'm working on for now:

The therapist has her own issues and I’m falling and rising
With the sky, a white flood of clouds,
And the world but a dream, of high wires,
And this is the day we weep for glory-less days?
I was counting trees and began to forget.
Mystic mind, and it was in the forgetting that the wound
Festered in anger, and snap, the judgment fell through cracked.
I was as a child without love, a horse without bridle,
And the bees came in droves to the flowerless bushes.
Mike smoked his cigarettes like a right,
And the heat came down today in the blue sunshine.
The therapist has her own issues and I’m falling and rising
with the night. Starlight comes home in the Rockies, high.
The boyfriend of advice left you homeless in the light.
The therapist has her own issues and we’re falling and rising
With the sky, a white unfolding of clouds,
And the earth but a blue spinning, and the blackness still
As the slow crafted words of time, and time is an artist
With stillness who watches the world move: damselfly
Banking off the breeze and what’s a blue damselfly
Or a red one? The sky is still as a dream. And we are dreaming
Each night other worlds where the rain pours and shames.
The therapist has her own issues and I forgive her and we are rising and falling
With the rotten tomatoes flying, the jester but a trickster?
We are trading tickets to too long and the poem died a steady death
With its COPD breath. And the world but a dream of mighty l8ies,
And the local rabbit dodges cars in the parking lot,
And what is it we are searching for dear? I hate how he calls me dear.
I was counting bees and remembered old photos, how the old
Once ran young and confident. And here we are for a moment
Like a bullet shot from a gun.


I feel I have a lot of work to do on this poem, but I read it at Canon Mine last night and enjoyed the open-mic there, and it's rare that I enjoy an open-mic!!!