frannerisms
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feb 12, 2020 If you don’t face your fears you avoid a lot of things, least of which is the main thing you mean to avoid so facing them helps you to face so many things and to be a part of a bigger world that you didn’t even know you were avoiding. Likewise, facing…
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I can’t believe I’m here right now, I can’t believe I came I can’t believe there are things inside me that the mountain wants to un-tame
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Throw enough of yourself at something that new “yous” have to grow in the absence of yourself. Be a flower excited by her pruning, read for the discard, grow in the absence of yourself unfettered, filling up holes and making new, taking old, making you… that I can, and will do. suggested listening: The Big…
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I want to lunge and make his neck mine,red hot fish hooks pull my eyes apart andI think I’m more articulate than I (really) (actually) amI want to OPEN WIDE and swallow something,really get some nutrients from it,really become it.‘I’ll look up poetry books on my kindle,’ I think, ‘because this is going nowhere.’I am…
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(who’s in a rush to open the origami secrets of our brains?) the sun the moon the sand the sky in God’s loving eyes I will not pry, will not rush the hour must not kill the time, two babes weaving in and out of their primes…
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take me out to the ball game… wait, no, take me out to the ball!
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Everyone will yell out the meaning of time,the lesson of a year (as if we leave any of it behind).No sense in celebrating the commodity oddity ofall that we put on holdfor the days we are feeling bolder.I think I’ll skip new year’s,Time and I are on weird terms right now.Today is Tuesday, December 31stAnd…
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note: this is an in-progress section of a longer piece. enjoy Have you heard of this six sentence poem?”I am trying in every regard.”I live in an empty house on a hill with only an attic,I have lived in a tired body un-thrilled with only an attic, I’ll show you:a northern star unzips my home,…
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Maybe I’m stirred by nothing,maybe I’m stirred by it all.It could be true that I’m just lying,it’s altogether possiblethat I was born unamused,it might be that my tongueis unleaded, my needle stillthreaded, embroidering myselfwith the promise of nothing, maybe I’m stirred by nothing.
the case for human error 