Sister
remember when
we chased after the ice-cream man?
back then
Tweety Bird ice-cream bars ruled us
responsibility
enslaves us like
caged birds

I Wanted To Capture You and I Realized It Isn’t Probable
By: Full of It

I haven’t got a clue what it is
that always has me running off.
Someone
who does everything right
and i am a fraud.

I must feel like a psychotic!
isn’t that love?

You’ve convinced me that I’m psychotic,
what else can explain all this
wanting,
longing,
burning,
erotic psychotic desire?

You wouldn’t tie me down;
unless I asked for it,
hands knotted to the posts of your bed,
attempts to keep silent
writhing under your command.

Without asking,
slightly violent,
I’ll throw you against a wall
on a public new york city street
pin back your arms
bite me back, bite me back please.

Hips hypnotize
I will trace the line from shoulder to thigh
and somewhere in between.

I get lost in your eyes.
Lion eyes,
they light up when you talk sometimes.
Surreptitious and shredding into me,
propulsion of the arcane.

Is that not the thickest of tension looming between?

Pop Art. ?

I couldn’t tell you what it means to be alive

strokes on canvas
letters into words
into phrases onto pages

rhymes and lines that harmonize
melodies that hypnotize

close ups, jump cuts and
mise en scène

four-on-the-floor
two-step, tango and tarantella

watch the audience rise from their seats
as the fourth wall falls

I can’t quite emphasize
what it means to be alive
unearthing some truth
where denial lies


art will rile
art will infect
art will spread
art will shape and reshape your head
your art will live long after you’re dead

I found some of my moms poetry online. Poetry.com.

Two different ones.

Wet Lands Cottage

By Barbara Prosser

“I once lived by the sea some called it my Seaside Cottage
where I listened to the sounds of the sea and the seals, now
I’m living on the prairie by a sea of grass in a house made
of glass oh how the sounds so differ.”

‘The Rose’

By Barbara C Comando

“There once was a rose
I planted in the ground…
She grew-up ALL alone
with no other things around.
Standing sturdy,tall and strong
She never realized she didnt belong
Covered up by asphalt
her seed pushed thru
Reaching towards the heavens
her spirit Born anew.
Blooming in all her beauty
A living testament for You.
Aim for the heavens
keep your dreams insight
And all Your Beauty will Bloom
Even in the darkest night.”

There’s just so much I will never know about this woman. I wonder about her a lot.

Electrocution

alright

I’ve had just about enough of this going nowhere stuff

you can stay here for all I care but I gotta go

you know, they say time is money so

I guess I must be going broke then

serving tables, bustin’ ass hopin’ they just might spot me a ten

I’m dreaming up my revolution; a sudden change in the situation

all I keep getting from anybody is short change and toleration

will somebody please grab the defibrillator ?

to jump start the hearts of America

with just the right amount of electrocution

before we’ve lost ourselves in all this delusion and mass confusion

wait. No.

stop.

there’s something that you musta forgot

beyond your computer and iPhone screen

the sun is blazing hot

and the sky is super blue

and there ain’t nobody alive that’s youer that you

and I can’t tell any of you what may transpire

so go ahead, set your world on fire

and I don’t know if we’ll survive the night

But you’re alive right now, right?

So here’s a match for you to ignite.

Great art is achieved when the piece, in which ever medium, causes someone to think, feel, or see differently because of it.  Some examples of great art, in my opinion, include Van Goghs Café Terrace at Night, the fashion of Alexander McQueen, Street Art by Banksy, Pink Floyds Dark Side of the Moon album, Johann Sebastian Bach’s works, The Eiffel Tower, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof by Tennessee Williams, Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost, Just Kids by Patti Smith and Tim Burtons James and the Giant Peach just to cover the majority of the disciplines of art. I can’t commit myself to a single favorite type of art; I enjoy them all depending on my mood.   

Art is another form of communication. There are never enough ways for us to communicate with each other. In a world where all we are is connected and communicating in endless amounts of ways, there still seems to be a lacking of things that need to be said and things that need to be heard. Art inspires us to think differently, to see differently. Art is important in understanding each other as human beings, through it we learn about our thoughts, feelings, ideas, cultures, and histories.

I need to be sleeping.

I’m using the internet to distract me from a million other things.

Not Smart.

Something has to give. CHANGE. what i need is an awesome change. It’s obviously not just gonna happen without me coaxing it.

SO, as of this moment. I’m gonna try my damndest to get back my “me”. I feel like its being MIA for awhile. ya know what i mean?

ToDo:

• write.
• sing.
• jam.
• paint.
• ADVENTURE.

these are the things that make me happy, these are the things i make no time for.

My best friend is leaving me. She has gone and fallen in love with a military man and she’s married him.
She is leaving for Louisiana in the morning.
It hasn’t fully sunk in… how different things are going to be with out her here.
Im so scared that our relationship may dwindle. That we will fall off. SO MANY of my friendships seem to do that. is it my fault?? I can’t let this happen with us. I can’t. we’ve gotten through some serious shit together. saved each other. changed each other. it’s ride or die.

but she’s going to be thousands of miles away…

it seems like 2012 is already turning into a whole new novel. that last chapter may have been the end of book one.

I remember when I met her
hair as red as the cherry of my chesterfield
the green of her eyes electrified
and her sorrows well concealed

I took her for a ride in my Chevy
and I asked her to be my baby
told her I’d treat her like a lady
in the back of my mind I knew she couldn’t save me

I brought her to my lips
I hauled her black into my chest
I couldn’t ever get enough
maybe I was a little obsessed

she took me for a ride
she left me high and dry
and her black smoke just won’t subside
she left me barely alive

so I bring the cigarette to my lips
I haul the black into my chest
and try my very best to forget
I remember every time I hit that cigarette

you can open me up
and peer inside
you will close the door;
unsatisfied.

stocked with frozen thoughts; 
full of frosted dreams
my cold frostbitten feet
will not move it seems

magnets cling

one plays a tune

 you can open me up
and peer inside
but you will close the door;
unsatisfied.

can you see passed the popsicle treats?
can you still see me?

When my mind madly meanders
through the thistles of then and this day
the sweet simple sounds we make seem to take me away

far far away, from the frets of your rosewood neck
to the sway of your swarthy body

I couldn’t possibly comprehend all the keys to your heart
but I could strum them six strings
that would be a start

I could sing them splendorous symptomatic inexplicable songs
about everything and nothing at all
Cause you and I together are everything after all

Just got in. had to break into my own ghetto ass car. Locked my phone, keys, AND lighter in that bitch (which i swear is cursed/haunted because its manual and it locks itself all the time).

Luckily someone out there was looking out for me….

Friends always show up when you need them, even if they don’t know it.

On a side note.. I’m glad the one manager hates me and denied the shift pick up for tomorrow morning. Having to work would have really topped it all off. I’m wired.

Let me keep it positive, things worked out. I must be the luckiest unlucky bitch on earth.