poetry


cuts

they say the first cut is the deepest
but is it really?
my mom used to tell me,
your words can cut  to the bone.
they are sharp
like a knife
and they hurt.
do they bleed, I wonder.
a cut can be 
sharp
it can be a sliver,
a gouge,
an open wound.
with words or with a knife.

there are
paper cuts and
cuts that cut you to the bone.
cuts can stab
and they can puncture.

cut and slice
and snick.
when I was little I used to
stick the edge of a safety pin
into my skin
just to see how far it would go
until I could latch it without it bleeding.

cuts bleed. 
they bleed blood
they bleed emotion
they can be bloodless.

a cut is penetration
into the skin
or the soul

piquerism is cutting over 
and over and over again.
do cuts release emotion
or make emotion?

so you can cut with scapels,
and knives, and safety pins,
and paperclips and tongues.

so is the first cut really 
the deepest?
or is it the second, the third,
the fourth or perhaps
the hundreth?

cut
release
cut 
release
they say the first cut
is the deepest.

4.29.2012

saturday, day of rest? hardly

hello friends. saturday. day of rest? hardly. awoke to the sound of lawn mowers. really? you have to mow your lawn at 7am?


went to my hair stylist today and was re-colored and cut. feel like me again. i had begun to sport a "punk mullet". here's the new do....

ran errands, went into h-town in bumper to bumper traffic both ways. just don't understand the whole let's go to galveston beach thing. as beaches go, well, it leaves alot to be desired.


went to joshua's native plants in the heights. always a fun trip with many photo taking opportunities for me.


my 2 favorites of the day:

home. house work. and photo editing. ah, the life for me.

a little tale of mary, the idler, the prophet and a girl called rain

if you are reading this you know my love of the music of michael mcdermott. 


today after a very hectic day i left work, went grocery shopping, came home, unpacked groceries, and then quickly changed into my workout gear. i took a 1.5 mile power walk. naturally is was listening to michael's music. the song playing was the idler, the prophet and a girl called rain. as i am swiftly walking, with thoughts swirling around in my head, the last line of the song is sung: "i guess this the story of the idler, the prophet and a girl called rain." right as michael is singing "rain" i look down and carved into the cement is the word rain. rain just happens to be the name of his daughter with the wonderful heather horton. it was a strange and profound moment and gave me chills.


life is funny that way.

library musings

yesterday was a fairly quiet day in libraryland. we did have a visit from *mr. lithium. once upon a time when i worked at the medical center library, when ben taub hospital would release patients (i.e. their insurance ran out) we would see an influx of stranger characters. our mr. lithium at the med center library moved in slow motion, talked in slow motion and was just in a whole 'nother world. our new *mr. lithium @ fpl is like that. walks and talks slow, carries bit and pieces of paper. he doesn't seem to like me, as i had to help out in reference last week. i couldn't help him with what he needed so he avoids me. *shrug* oh well. 


since we are talking about libraryland. i'll tell you a few more stories from my med center library days. we once had a lady who built a nest in the public ladies restroom. literally. she inhabited one of the stalls. and she used probably hundreds of rolls of toilet paper and built a nest in there. she thought she was a bird. 


we also had a guy who was flashing women. he had his act down pat. he would be wearing shorts and carrying a gym bag. he would find some girl or lady studying alone in a corner or secluded place. he would get her attention, wangle and show off his junk, and then flee. by the time the poor thing made it down to the first floor to tell us what she had just experienced,  we were looking for a man wearing x colored shorts and a t-shirt, the perv would have changed into regular clothes and walked out of the library unnoticed. he was eventually caught. chased and cold-cocked by one of our maintenance workers. he had a knife on him and did try to slash *gerald. however gerald was about 6'5" and weighed at least 250 or so. one punch and the perv was down for the count. he had the unfortunate name of mr. cheeks. i shit you not!!! library workers can be very twisted. at halloween of that year we cut masks made from his pd artist rendering sketch and wore them. yes. twisted. i think it's called gallows humor.


*signifies that a name has been changed for various and sundry reasons

nothing like a new pair of shoes!!! look just like me don't they?

song lyric of the day

I’ve been lookin’ for a sign babe, I haven’t got a clue

If you surrender your heart to me

I’ll surrender mine to you

~michael mcdermott

poetry

sweet oblivion
one taste

down the rabbit hole

I shrink, 

or I grow

life is light

life is dark

it is a haze 

that feels just right

it eats my pain

it eases my fears

chases my demons

slays my dragons

it raises me up

gives me courage

to say the things 

I would never say 

to do the things 

I would never do

but in the morning

I never remember

oh sweet oblivion

where are you

4.25.2012

library musings

today a patron who shall henceforth be called, movie man, came in. he usually has some interesting and/or strange comments. lately he has been telling us that he has a ghost in his home. an angry ghost. he brought in his cell phone and let us listen to his evidence of the angry ghost. the ghost was calling his name in a LOUD voice and saying "xxxx, i am very angry with you. xxxx, i am very angry with you." how does one respond to this?? it was all i could do to bite my tongue and keep a straight face. schizophrenia? fractured and or split personality? not sure what his next visit will bring, but i am sure it will something worth talking about.


while we are on the subject.....what is it that makes libraries attractive to weirdos and freaks? several years ago we had a man coming in who used one of our small study rooms. he smelled horrible, like a rotting corpse. he also smelled like someone with out of control diabetes(ketoacidosis; the patient's skin may taste sweet, and the sweat may produce a very unique odor). while i certainly never tasted his skin, he had that distinctive aroma. he was very overweight. like all patrons (whom we give code names to) he was stinkie. i imagine he may be deceased by now.


i guess libraries seem open, inviting and non-judgmental. library workers are like bartenders or hair dressers. we hear things we really don't want to hear. do you think we really need to know you have a urinary tract infection? or that your underage daughter is pregnant? 


as i have said many a time....folks, i couldn't make this stuff up. truth IS stranger than fiction. and just when i think i've seen or heard it all, well something or someone proves me wrong.