|
poetry and musings from the girl behind the mask my journal of Juha Harju. All rights reserved. Used with permission. Graphics by: Deanna
|
|||||
|
|
|||||
|
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
alcohol I am all lips and teeth. I take your words and seal them in a bottle so that I can uncap them later when I am at home in the dark. I take in my breath. I take a drink. Saturday, December 17, 2005
Sinister Schoolyard No fences Nature working against us Trees entwined, branches knotted, roots clasp hands. We know each other by a spiral of the eyes. We meet and play in the sinister schoolyard. Here we're all the same. Our kind, we call to each other. Like as to like in the darkness. Dancing on the rows of skulls below us Our fingernails make pictures on the ground while we play hopscotch with a philosopher's stone. The wind carries our laugh on the trees that bind us. Madness begats madness begats madness. You use your belt to squeeze the beat out of my heart. You use the blood to write this poem. Thursday, January 27, 2005
happy discontent Our devious spirits play together in the corner shadows- setting fire to the preacher's house at midnight fight while we carefullly play our board games on the kitchen table That I am part darkness- this is know The fact of half light - I fight as I count the billlows of smoke from the insence and ideas that I have burned Pages upon pages of books about science and stories tatooed on my mind in kind leaving me with remembrances of your heart flesh and blood and art beauty nonetheless and spirits from the dead crawling in my bed washing out my eyes with salt - my fault- this thing we've become alive all teeth biting grins and bits of skin left on the bathroom floor Monday, January 03, 2005
The Changing Faces of God (conversional conversation) I sat in a chair in front of the bathroom mirror while God stood behind me braiding my hair. He patted me on the head and told me I was a good girl. "You should try harder," he said. "It would suit you. "That's the thing," I replied. "I've decided to stop trying to be something I'm not ... some other person. Some other unattainable person. There's nothing worse than a faker, you know." His fingers finished the last of the braid and he used a single strand of my hair to tie it off at the ending. "Now sit down," I said. "It's your turn." He sat down hesitantly in the wobbly old chair and sighed. "OK." He paused. "What've you got?" "Well," I began, as I twisted my fingers around his hair, "first let's have a little chat about this genocide thing." I pulled his long white hair into a tight knot on the top of his head. "And by the way," I remarked, "you shouldn't hide behind your hair. You've got a beautiful face." Monday, December 13, 2004
throwing it all away i will throw off my fear like a cape that's been shadowing my eyes
i will open my eyes and not look away when you see me
i will stand tall and not move when discussing my faith and my loves
i will know that i am beautiful and worthy of the very best kinds of love and adoration
i will walk forward in the knowledge that i am one of a kind and no one can do what i do
i will create, i will draw, i will write, i will sing.... in public if need be.
i will let you see me as who i am
i will throw away the fear and embrace the essence of me and of you. Seeing What am I supposed to think? When you are warm and soft toward me. When you tell me that it's nice to find someone else on "the wavelength". When you touch me and tell me that I"m fantastic. What am I supposed to think? When you are cold and staring. When I can't see anything past your pupils. When you look at me like you don't even know who I am. What am I supposed to think? When I cry because you choose un-love. When I understand that I can't even be your friend anymore because the pain is greater than the joy. When you seem like you don't care, so I stop calling. What am I supposed to think? When you call to check in and wonder where I've been. When you want to get together and talk and watch movies and laugh. When I hesitantly say yes. What am I supposed to think? When the cycle starts again? Dream Sequence My dreams of superherodom were dashed the day I jumped off that top of that building and hit the pavement. I was in love, I was optimistic - I thought it would work. I didn't become a superhero, but I did turn into a bird and fly away before I died. I learned to live with the fact that I was not supergirl and the fact that I had become a yellow canary that later smashed into my own living room window and turned into a spider falling from a web. I experimented with my eight legs until I pulled myself apart and became the petal of a daisy on the ground which was instantly smushed by a girl who had leaped from the 11th story window, thinking that she was a superhero. Tuesday, October 26, 2004
Dick and Jane Silly boy and little girl lost Twitching feet and dirty hands crossed Eying her with pockets upturned Nodding head and stomach churned. Taking her in - body and soul Lapping up gravity from a water bowl. Chewing her gum and blinking like mad Scribbling out an idea that she had once had Watching him drawing - there in the dirt Spattered mud pies all over his shirt. Taking in sunlight, but witching the moon He was bent toward the earth with a filthy spoon. Caught late in the night and just before frost Silly boy and little girl lost. Monday, October 25, 2004
Experience Her year of birth had called her mystically sexual. I couldn't comprehend her reason. Tequilla running down, one night I asked about her sex life. She told me that she once had sex with him on the floor of the art museum. When I looked at her, a combination of awe-struck and embarassed, she sighed. And by way of explanation she casually remarked, "there was a Dali exhibit." She remembered the time they had broken into a house and had sex out in the backyard next to the swimming pool of a stranger. I looked at her blankly and by way of explanation she said simply, "there was a full moon." I never understood her. "One more story", I said and she obliged. I fucked him in the back of the car on the road by the river....doors open...10:00 at night...Closer to God on the radio. Again I stared. And by way of explanation, she offered,"His dog had just died." There was a meteor shower the night she finally let me completely learn her body and her mind. It was then I understood. When my friends asked me about our encounter, I simply replied, "The sex was great, but the mind-fuck was even better." My Drunk Roomate I knew she was off the wagon again When I saw her there in her flannel. She was laughing hysterically at the TV. She was watching The Weather Channel.
|
|||||