(no subject)
Feb. 13th, 2006 10:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
emchyi just really want some time in my own head
i mean like to spread open the physical matter of my brain
and to create some space up in there
to enjoy the pauses between words again
to sit at the cafe in the morning *before* work, and drink coffee, and read the paper and not have to rush.
poems come to me then, when i choose to afford the time.
on sunday i went to radio station meeting. the new place is right off of the water. it is ugly and beautiful. the water is so filthy and innocent. rippling, sparkling and playing like clean mountain water. it doesn't know what's been done to it. it doesn't know it smells like industrial death and motor oil instead of freshness and springtime. and you know what? i can smell the clean under it. i can feel it trying. it doesn't even know it's trying. it just is. water just is. beautiful. and no amount of defiling by us can turn that off.
so i sat by the water and smelled the oily watery smells and it reminded me of boat outboard motors and childhood and fishing and being sunburnt and having to swim halfway across the lake to buy dad a coke from the small beach stand where everyone in town stood in line for ice cream and changed into swimsiuts in small damp smelling cement lockers that were always cold, no matter how hot and humid the day was.
i dangled my feet over this inlet of san francisco bay and wrote in my journal feeling the sun bake into my neck and felt some space in my brain start to give. my heart unlodged a bit from the in my throat, too swollen in my chest place that had been choking me. i felt time. pause. for a moment. with me.
we got a chance to look at each other and stop fighting. for a moment. me and time, we were pals.
only a day later and we're at it again. we don't give each other what we want but we're stuck together. until we're not. and there's the rub. i know my time is limited. and it's a constant battle just to get a little more. but when i forget to fight for it... there is so much more. when i forget to fight, i can run around my past and future dreaming and remembering and smelling things like sand on skin sticky with some spilled coke. because it shook up when i swam it back to the boat. algae and seaweed muck drying on calves. and the way the water smelled when i dove deep. smelling cold and life life. maybe you would say you can't smell underwater. but it would hold onto me. i can smell it now if i just close my eyes, and remember.
i mean like to spread open the physical matter of my brain
and to create some space up in there
to enjoy the pauses between words again
to sit at the cafe in the morning *before* work, and drink coffee, and read the paper and not have to rush.
poems come to me then, when i choose to afford the time.
on sunday i went to radio station meeting. the new place is right off of the water. it is ugly and beautiful. the water is so filthy and innocent. rippling, sparkling and playing like clean mountain water. it doesn't know what's been done to it. it doesn't know it smells like industrial death and motor oil instead of freshness and springtime. and you know what? i can smell the clean under it. i can feel it trying. it doesn't even know it's trying. it just is. water just is. beautiful. and no amount of defiling by us can turn that off.
so i sat by the water and smelled the oily watery smells and it reminded me of boat outboard motors and childhood and fishing and being sunburnt and having to swim halfway across the lake to buy dad a coke from the small beach stand where everyone in town stood in line for ice cream and changed into swimsiuts in small damp smelling cement lockers that were always cold, no matter how hot and humid the day was.
i dangled my feet over this inlet of san francisco bay and wrote in my journal feeling the sun bake into my neck and felt some space in my brain start to give. my heart unlodged a bit from the in my throat, too swollen in my chest place that had been choking me. i felt time. pause. for a moment. with me.
we got a chance to look at each other and stop fighting. for a moment. me and time, we were pals.
only a day later and we're at it again. we don't give each other what we want but we're stuck together. until we're not. and there's the rub. i know my time is limited. and it's a constant battle just to get a little more. but when i forget to fight for it... there is so much more. when i forget to fight, i can run around my past and future dreaming and remembering and smelling things like sand on skin sticky with some spilled coke. because it shook up when i swam it back to the boat. algae and seaweed muck drying on calves. and the way the water smelled when i dove deep. smelling cold and life life. maybe you would say you can't smell underwater. but it would hold onto me. i can smell it now if i just close my eyes, and remember.
