title goes here (but you do not)

(for me: perhaps five
for them: perhaps five.

does that make everything
five by five?
No, it just makes it all a lie.)

I am not a poet
or a muse

yet I wonder at amusement
and the way our bodies serve
to park or drive
ambition

and what would happen if
libido disappeared
before it was conceived;
would any of us have
been?

to the top of heaven
in a golden chariot
made from sallow, starved flesh
(if only for touch
if only for hope)
of another human being
we found lovely in the waning light

Do lovers ever realize?
I've read words
scribed between the inches of skin
exposed like eyes

against the burst of winter winds

Or maybe
just a Writers Cafe
that remains static
like our friendship
(if only that word
existed outside of our vocabulary
because then it wouldn't exist,
he moaned)
or maybe just Facebook messages
about creeping into dreams.

Do lovers ever realize?
I've written words too.
Yet--
none of us
(I could say neither but I speak
for you too)
none of us
are muses,
except perhaps


Unfulfilled Desire
(I hear she's dreadfully inspiring)

How average is your life?

I just saw this on MLIA.

"Today, I was looking through the bumper stickers application on Facebook and I came across this sticker that said "if Pinocchio said his nose was about to grow, what would happen?" This was by far the most fascinating thing I've read all year. MLIA."

I would have to agree with the poster. And what would happen?

EDIT:

"The other day I learned that if you say 'beer can' with an English accent, you're saying 'bacon' with a Jamaican accent. Mind blown. MLIA."

My day just keeps getting better.

More for Me by Tegan and Sara

Had a bad day
As bad as they come
Time to get a real job
You gotta stop having fun
So I got a real job
I'm working nine to nine
I'm making five bucks an hour
'til the day I die
Got a straw inside of me
And it's filled just fine
Got a straw inside of me
With the strongest wine
Well I'm one third passion
And I'm two thirds pride
Said I used to have a life once
He said I used to like your smile once
Singing silence to the world
But the stars kept marching
He said silence to everyone
I said I'm still talking
Have you got some more deep inside of you
I'll always have more for me
I take a little more for me baby
I got a picture of the way
The world has summed me up
If I could have one wish
I sure wish that I had never grown up
I got a picture of the way I looked
When I was three
I came out laughing screaming dancing
I used to be free spirited
Now I'm just free of sleep
I got a burning passion in my throat
I got a burning passion inside me
I got a job that wastes my time and gift
I got a life that needs a serious lift
And all the things I wanted
Yes all the things I want
Go on and on and on and on
On and on and on and on
Well I go on
Silence to the world
But the stars keep marching
Silence to everyone
But I kept talking
Have you got some more deep inside of you
Yes I'll always have more more me
He says all the things I want they go
So I, I take a little more for me

Tell me, what are you afraid of?

For years I've had a very...strong aversion to wrists (the inner part). I hate even typing the word. It wasn't until last year in Intro to Psych that I realized it was an actual phobia--I just thought I was a bit off (although I suppose that means I am). I completely freak out if anyone touches mine (although I've gotten a lot better at controlling my reaction). I don't touch other people's. I don't look at them. I can't handle references (visible, audible) to them.

People always ask for explanations if they notice (and so I try very hard not to let them). How can I give an explanation when just thinking of the topic--the word--causes me too hyperventilate, clutch the vulnerable bits safely against my body and throw me in a wave of silly anxiety? If people keep trying to explore the topic after I've firmly (or a bit crazily) said that I most certainly don't want to talk about it, sometimes I even cry. STUPID.

I always thought I was the only one. I mean, who else could possibly have such a random, ridiculous phobia?

Apparently, a whole horde of people. I could barely get through their stories--it was as though they crawled into my mind and emotions, spitting out everything for the world to see.

As far as I could gather from internet sources, the phobia name is carpophobia (sometimes spelled karpophobia).

I hear there's a shrink on campus. I sort of want to see if she has any experience dealing with phobias. On the other hand, dealing with it means thinking about it--and thinking about it means the reaction I'm having right now (if only you could see me).

"Fear is that little darkroom where negatives are developed."
Michael Pritchard


"What are fears but voices airy?
Whispering harm where harm is not.
And deluding the unwary
Till the fatal bolt is shot!"
Wordsworth

meaningless.

Your eyes are white
Round drops of snow
Like I drop her name
In casual conversation
Because I hate the way you
Ask
“Are you going to banquet?”
As if it means
“Do you have a boyfriend?
And I wonder if the whiteness
Is really blindness
(no, my facebook relationship status is not a joke mr.—fill in the blank—)
But then he asks
And I tell
And the vice president of student services
(don’t I pay your bills?)
Wants me to know that
She knows gasp
That I’m gay
so I pull out my
anger
backtalk
piece
peace
nod and say
“Yes, ma-am—-we won't act like a couple in public.
No, we won't sit too close.
Of course sex should be kept for marriage”
But I wonder if she realizes that’ll take a move to Iowa
And well
Union College
Isn’t in Iowa.
And I bet
Even in Iowa
the whites of their eyes
Would still be showing.

Astronomy test tomorrow

"It's never too late - in fiction or in life - to revise." Nancy Thayer

"I tried to stop smoking cigarettes by telling myself I just didn’t want to smoke, but I didn’t believe myself." Barbara Kelly

"Whenever I think to quit smoking, I need a cigarette to think." P.K.

"Nobody trips over mountains. It is the small pebble that causes you to stumble. Pass all the pebbles in your path and you will find you have crossed the mountain." Unknown

Linkage.

Haha, this facebook group (parody) is awesome. It reminds me of Questions for Heterosexuals.

So silly: the whole idea that someone can hate true (aka non-destructive, reciprocated) love, in the name of Love (G-d is Love, no?). Seems a bit contradictory to me--then again so does my decision to remain at Union College.

On another note, this website still manages to rock my world.