CHRIST(I)MiSs those MERRY holiday happenings!

A Holiday Recap. 

I remember when we'd wake up 
upon the 'bum-crack of dawn.'
our presents waiting patiently
until Santa was long gone
I knew who sampled those cookies
a 3 letter word with letter D
I never told you how often
I snuck up under the Christmas tree

Running from room to room
"Wake-up Christmas is here!"
We can now open up our presents
All filled with bubbly cheer!

In our appointed sections
wiping the crust out of our eyes
you sat, as we called names 
handed presents side by side
we always had to announce
To: WHO? From: WHO?
lean near
we still couldn't open those gifts
until wait! 'coast is clear!'

I think someone was in the kitchen 
trying to snag a morning snack
we never really did breakfast
though, once or twice way back
Finally! It's time! to devour our holiday gifts
yours were never opened, the last on Santa's list

I remember most your smile
Too bad that moments past
The jokes you made at will
no rules, just go full blast!

What soon happened now?
Oh! The pictures, the many pictures!
Go stack those gifts with glory
like a lord with his stricture
My hunger now singing songs.
the kids in fascination
the day's not over yet!
To grandma's - our final destination!
-----
In her fav blue chair, grandma sittin,' lookin' pretty
Her smile was everything!
Full of joy, oh so gitty
I think of how her light - turned 'dark nights into days'
Her spirit leaves me breathless
as I take a moment just to gaze . . . 

I also do remember 
when the arguing would begin
made grandma mad, then sad
our sibling quarrels would never end

the same ritual would proceed
like the 'morning present roar'
but there . . . a little different
with uncle by the door
he had the 'best gifts!'
each girl was looking for
that time my sister cried
we all wondered what else was in store!

Dinner! Oh blessed dinner!
Can't forget that tireless deed
we loaded bags and boxes of food 
to add to our wholesome needs
Food was not eaten without
Grandma's blessing upon the table:
the squeaky brown middle inlay,
with china from the stable

Dinner was always late,
like 6, or 7, or even 8
it closed the night in perfection
friends nettled in from other sections

I remember like it was yesterday
those moments, those memories, those times
sweet potatoes, greens, chitterlins???
Oh my god, I hated those things! 
Soon came the evening naps,
full of food, all presents unwrapped
grandma stayed at the table, 
in heavy 'life' conversation
To the TV! A Christmas movie!
Then, she would try and change the station.

Fairy Godmother and Scary Godfather!
I can't forget the 2 of you.
Your family, in itself
gave HOLIDAY full meaning.

glad we spent those times
glad we spoke today
glad you understand
on days, just -like- today

Past will always be, 
Present truths remain untold, 
Future stems from our own beliefs
I wish MERRY to my SOUL!
----

Continue to create new HOLIDAY HAPPINESS! 

Permanent or Temporary?

Address me. 

Did you know you could address me? Add that dress to the order so you can send it to me! Lots of dresses to add in my book, too many to write down. I don't know why you have that old one . . . Send it to this address please. Wait! who did you address it to? It should have been addressed to me a long time ago. I used to have an address like that one. My home address. Do you have a home address? What's your home address? Or do you have a P.O. Box? I wanted a P.O. Box but they wouldn't give it to me. I was like, 'what?' I don't understand. If I don't have an address then I can't get a P.O. Box - proposterous! It's ok. It's a P.O. Box. You'll find someone to address it to. Someday. Away. Far far way. From the madness of??? Homes. My home is my address. Address me. Did you address me? I bargained for that address, but I had so much distress. It made me sad. It made me weak. I couldn't really sleep because i had no address. Are you bored yet? You shouldn't be because you're probably sleeping pretty . . . in your bed . . . in your home . . . address. I don't like how that sounds. Address. Add. An ad. A dress. Ask me for my address. What will I tell you? I don't know. I didn't know it. It was something I always wanted. Now I have an address. Add me. to your address book. The book with addresses and emails. I have one now. You should hold on to that - that address is something special. We take it for granted. We don't think about it. It exists. The Home . . . less. aka no address. I was once 'aka' . . . in a former life? I want to meet everyone who was . . . Can I add you? to my address book once you have an address. That would be nice. Nice to have an address. A home. My home. My address. Add me. My name is . . .  

ForNever missed.

"Your name gages no references in my brain." She said. 

Friends move in motion and Family yields yesterday years.
I seed the chest burn as my forehead heavily weighs worry and 'way with words.'
Thought provoking words left me speechless yet relentless, less worried, though meekly pondering speeches.
Fingers hold the dial to all conversations vanished within minutes . . . 
Deeply, painfully panting lyrics to that 'love' song - I question.
No love now that we?
Separate ways - grow deep now, as age old days go by 15
I recall times in better like
Now you leave me better lone
I hurt like human anecdotes comparing lives in anger
I peep past pastures in digital media
I know those thoughts grew bad, made sad, grow deem too late, result: HATE.
I hate how words make memories cease as cold as the memories I ate
I didn't eat today, quite a stomach ache from the mosh pit messages designed for my fancy
Surprised at my upheaval
Balanced breath stabilizes through IT-TA-LY captivating my chaos
Missing moody laughter, focused fearful pain
(No! Where do I go? I don't want to do that - who do I know?)
Know me like this now? - no 'sealed with a kiss?'
I missed those opportunities to stop those 'disses.'
Come on now? Really? And it's me you see, not you, your dirty deeds play zero.
Fatality? Yeah right!
I calm IN collect don't bring up the battered bruises beaten by boundary
Cleansing thoughts keep cries from esteem walking to the exit line
I build my empire in my fragile human state
I seldom say to myself, love the art that you create! That makes up for mistakes???
. . . in this case - I art to 

MOVE - MIND mouth. 
---------


to be continued . . . 

EVOLe in that Common Cliche.

Love.

I've never had it. Though, I think I felt it once, maybe twice on that nice, loud train ride home . . . like the scene in a movie: girl staring out window, as train pulls over tracks. Thoughts ponder her head, eyes become glazed, tears fall like flowers fresh with morning dew.  It's when clear thought becomes no thought and forehead hills peak by, breath grows chafe and pause becomes numb. No sound seeps in, no one else around -  just you, the window, the train . . . pondering that 'love' thang. 

Love responds.
Love makes time. 
Love IS a trouble maker.
Love makes you think.
Love makes you react.
Love, on the 2 opposite ends of the spectrum SHOULD find commonality. 
Love NEVER lets you down.
Love turns your frown up-side down.
Love heals whats lost.
Love listens.
LOVE IS PRESENT. 

I question my love and what it has been. I question it all the time. When I bother it. I get ignored. 

I dream about it . . . Love. 
I wonder if it'll ever find me if I'm always up in my cherry tree? writing sonnets as winds billow by and stops when it hears me rustling.
  
No contact. No call. No, not at all. 

I go back to that embrace. I go back to that chase. I go back to that thought where I thought? It finally found my heart. But! It was crushed. It was frustrated. It hadn't even dated. 

Love was shared.
Love was tugged away.
Love made me stay up.
Love, Hate, Grown ups.
Love hit me hard.
Love just up and left?
Love never grew here at all.

I thought love helped me out. I also thought that quiet love would happen in this next lifetime. I always hoped I'd run into it, but nope, nope, nope, nope, nope! I shall not understand. 'I am ready for loooovvvve. Why are you hiding from me India.Arie.?' 

Family feud love. forgiveness?
Those Fallen angel princesses. 
Bitter battered boastful love.
A glove holds that mean, little snub.
Aching, yearning love.
Misdirected, a memory love. 
Sounds like that poet, Shihan: Type Love. 
Love that calmed my soul,
Not that love that gets - Oh So old! 

I would love to see ???

I've never had it. Though, I think I felt it once, maybe twice . . . 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hJZkBWBashA

[My familiar face]

His face is so familiar. I never forget he's where?  Chi-see him everyday, when I sit at home and stare . . . Stare down the living table - to the other side. I picture him just barely, giving  'too cool for school' in vibe. /He knows me very well. And I think I know him to. We've known each other a while . . . like most 'couples' do.  But still there's so much more that we really do not know - I ask, he answers back, shakes his head - sighs very low.  

I like to bother him, from time to time to time - he doesn't respond back; He gives me a heart attack! by the way he seldom reacts. /I never know what he's thinking - nor if he understands, I'm stumbling when I'm speaking. /Sometimes, I hide from him because I don't know who I am. He listens, covers his face, should I? nope! don't tAtch his hand?

All the random thoughts that creep inside my head, I wish I said them all, especially before bed. I open up - same page... making moonlight into smiles, days go sunny thoughts, I feel just like a little child. 

/I'm not as patient as he-  I act, then follow through. I never take time to wait, like there's ticking, time, BOOM! He takes his time with ease, he's sneaky with his friends. He handles quite a lot, I question? . . . get under his skin. Without staring in my face, I sense, but know he's there. He keeps me in his back pocket, bandana! - shows me he cares. 

/Gives me a  'talking to,' like modern Mamas Listen' by telephone - I seem to get more 'out of line' - he fixes my moody groans. I care about him deeply, more deeply than he knows. I just wish he showed me the same, as our relationship has grown. 

I learn a lot from him - he keeps me on my toes. I act as if we're the same, but little does he know . . . there's this mutual agreement we share without explaining - I like to think of him. . . Wake Up!  eyes red, nose runny, complaining~

Our relationship is so silly, like two, battling in the ring - but once we dance it out, boy! I feel the way I cling . . . I cling to him sometimes, like he's my only friend. He, who understands me...the tough, the bold, my bends. 

I excite to talk to him: Boy! do I have some News!!! He burst berries when I bob down, its just an inside joke - in the room. I enjoy being around him and laughing through and through: The old, the new, the 'what bothers us' - the why? and the who? I'm smiling now because he means more to me, more than he even knows . . . he's quiet with his care, but slow, yet calm, a cool soul. 

I follow in his words, like footprints in the sand, take quotations like bookmarks - my mental note at hand. Phone conversations don't work- I can't reach him when he's dead . . . dead tired to the world from all his crafty ways, Get Bread! He works long on that island, at times, it makes me choke. I cheat myself a friend, when I can't take a silly joke. There is a crack of love, in the hardest, my LA Times - I trust him with my life - does he trust his with mine?

-----------------------

To be continued~

That MISSconception

underneath that mask - there's a person there
behind that clever wall - that person stands in fear

without asking . . . she has a thought
without smiling . . . she has a heart
without words . . . she has an ear
without  looking . . . she knows you're near

I think if you ask her a question, she will be quick to answer
and just like you, as clear as night, she even sheds a tear

this person is not a monster. this person is not a star.
this person is not anyone you've considered friend
. . . from a far

But please check yourself, when you decide to judge
Make sure to look in the mirror, before you hold that grudge
A person feels supported when someone shows they care
and misunderstood at times by those who aren't aware
open up your mind to things you do not know
don't follow by the crowd and only exist by show

i'll only give as much, as you would allow me to give
I will not step back and let YOU decide . . . how I'm supposed to live
-----

(to the world I used to know) 

FAMished!

I don't need you anymore. You chose to not need me. 

I don't know you anymore. You chose to not know me.

We don't talk anymore. You chose not to talk to me.

We don't laugh anymore. You chose not to laugh with me.

I wish you gave me more. You chose not to give to me.

I hoped you'd cry some more. You chose not to cry for me.

We never connect anymore. You chose not to connect with me.

We used to do much more. You chose less to use of me.

I hate a little more. You choose to not love me.

I'm bothered a lot more. You choose not to bother me.

We ignore a little more. You choose not to speak with me. 

We live our lives some more. You chose not to 'live' with me.

I'm furious some more. You choose to infuriate me.

I'm sad a lot more. You choose how to sadden me.

We understand less more. You choose not to stand with me.

We see each other no more. You choose, far away from me.

I create a lot, lot more. You choose not to inspire me.

I worry about much more. You choose to worry less of me.

I crave for you some more. You choose not to hunger for me.

I think of you much more. You choose not to think of me. 

We sigh a little more. You choose not to sigh for me. 

Your words hurt more and more. You chose not to listen to me.

We argue a lot more. You choose not to side with me.

You've never knocked on my door. You chose to let me be. 

the message, the music

my life is composed of songs i cannot write. words i wish i danced. thoughts i hold through time. thoughts from pen to paper - heart to help - lips to lever. i never thought of my self as much until "i looked into your eyes" - "you say, I'll be alright - I'm gonna trust you babe . . . " 

'light' is given to me in lost perspective. my being is completely captivated. sometimes i sit there in trance hoping for someone to come save me...that movie where nothing else in the world matters. if only they were fairytales i would make no mistakes. my company would stay and this lonely place would be in memory.

vicariously. in hope. one wish. a wish. blank. state and still. breathing deeply again.

that warm deep sinking feeling- instruments as clear as the day. heart rumbling with the drums. yearning and yearning and yearning. as confident as you are in sound. i want - in motive. in every two brilliance is made. will the storm ever cease?

soothing melodies wilt my eyes. they were once in seek. over and over, repeat and find. replays my packaged connective tissues as moments intensify. loud vs. soft, then truth intensifies.

some muster up the worst. heartache, love, no longer in existence. reasons represent full forms - those strings, those strings "gather your strength and rise up"

'go' in undertone.

one last piano cord. 

the ending of the song. 

Light - Sara Bareilles

From chair to chair

Blue goes black.
Straight to sluggish.

In the corner is that chair, that space where u can hide. 
One time, the covers stretched out long- 
...the cold swept in like a bug buzzing in my ear.

Layer up! and be resourceful - so u barely feel it
I thought I was the only one.
Since time deepened,
3 is the number of inquires to this site
I forgot my long socks tonight.

Safer than roaming, 
lit at best
Though time is creeping by as a caterpillar in transition.

Transition. 
that's what it is - This is
Yawn number 87
I sleep when I feel safe
(frantic eye baiting)

2 more hours of insomnia,
induced insomnia though
Fear sets in- in the wee hours 
...when u sense the shadows changing

--------------
Its like a rotation schedule of chairs
scheduled at this time is . .. 
"not everyone has the chance to be safe"
TIME -  still not on my side

From chair to chair like a missing musical chair.

[to be continued]

UNTITLED.

I see in many colors
colors, no one knows

I try to make them see me
but my ignorance goes "full blows"
---

I scream inside my chest
wishing to disappear

I never knew who knew me
my tole hit hard with lone
---

I cry and sit in silence
the moon be by my side

I reep my bad upbringing
inside, I try, I try
---

I, deep in fear and glory
I praise no one no more

I'm sad, I say - I'm sad
who else would care with coal?

To TREE or NOT to tree - is that the question?

twisted vines on a cherry tree
speak to me

start up straight
then jag in direction

my forehead
wish i could see my frown lines

confused.
connected.
connected as they flow above me

movement as the wind blows

everything will be ok

skeleton.
sculptural.
falling down.

pants or legs? ha! a 'knock knee'

the light shining on you makes my soul dance
i never knew, what tree r u?

but your colors calm my mind
in spaces i wished glowed.

skin. in blotch
from tree to tree
soft in its appeal 
sight to be unseen.

makes me wonder why you dance 
creep up, but not below

i wonder where my thoughts would be
if i stopped
and poked
elbow?

Don't wrinkle when you see me
my left eye holds a tear
the yellow hints a smile
i feel so cool and clear.

------
Thank you . . . tree above me. <3

Back to Life.

10:04p

09/24/09

At the end of the day . . . students are the ones that make your "world." After all this time - I was feeling like my world was over - it was void of something that I felt so real and honest. It was a feeling I had never felt before and still ceasing to know the answer to. For the first time in a while . . . I still wonder . . . but the feeling that I have now is not quite the same. I wish I knew what it was that I felt. It's kinda like I visually see pictures in my brain, but feel the presence amongst what was. I guess it's the spirit of the class - the spirit of the presence that will always linger. My missing is turning into memories (lip poked out bc I don't want that). BUT I guess that that's ok. Right? (I'm smiling now . . .) Today, they missed me - my old students missed me.

They came and said Hi - the hugs, the "we wish you were still our teacher," the do you remember my name? - I felt loved today. I don't feel that often. (tearing up) I . . . have words but no words. Lots of words but how do I say them? One was tired today, last wk she was full of joy. The other couldn't dance today, but I feel her heart in the room. And . . . (giggle) - she's getting better. bc of me? idk. And new one is so special - grounded, but not. lol. "Improv is so theraputic." - That's exactly how I feel! She felt how I feel . . . hmmmmmm. I'm starting to have the feeling that I should write a column . . . what would it be called? Ms.ssssing D. haha but it could work. I miss myself. And I never felt alive until I was Ms. D. And at the same time, I miss all of "them." - they're my kids. like my kids . . . without giving birth that is. One told me today that - I love when you do "this" with your hands - I love that." - I loved that - made me feel (breath, subtle tears). (slight giggle) The one from last year. Oh. She comes into the end of class sometimes and reminds me of what I'm also missing. Her. (Sigh) Good thing I decided to leave them with something special last year - that box. (getting more teary-eyed . . . get it together on the train.) Man, Love has so many different forms - today. The keychains. They had them . . . (wiping my eyes) Thinking . . . They really had them - Everything you do is NOT in vain. I loved them. I love them now and I will ALWAYS love them . . . they're my kids. Living, not Leaving. LOVE.

Wait! I forgot something! - Maybe Modern is my thing. Or Contemporary. lol. Contemporary Modern. haha - maybe that's what makes me feel alive . . . no structure. Just concepts. Sequences. Ideas. Practices. Discovery. What not to do. What to incorporate. Bc today was a good day for level 3? The sweat, the work, the sequences . . . the smiles, the "I know what I should be doing, but I'm just not doing it." haha Good group of kids - connected to the floor. A disconnection when they stand up . . . hmmmmm. I guess I'm the connective tissue. That was a good class until the last 20min, when I lost what to do. But it's ok bc Improv always brings me back. - Back to see what they need. There's no restriction! (giggle) Someone said that today and I was like: good word, but no. It's crazy bc when I think of the word restriction now . . . it brings me back to "that" place. . . when I found out that there were student/teacher boundaries. - Boundaries of love. How much to love them. But I do. I genuinely do. They're my kids. I started to change my game, but today they brought me back to life. ~

10:51p

whispers in the wind . . .

"In essence, still in my conscious and ever supported inmost . . . days use to be weakening, hours hopeful, and min by min memories . . . now, the unsure is stronger and depth is becoming richer. Understanding will always be meek and regrets can not last forever ~ I am, who I am and that's all I can be."

One day I lost you - how did that happen? I had you. I really did. Everything in my grasp, but the actual skeleton. I still don't know what happen. I whisper in the wind for moments at a time, in hope . . . you heard me - one time, some time. Maybe? I look at that name and it kills me - like sharp pains . . . no! gasps of air . . . shock? What is it doing to me? I don' t get it. "There will be no negotiations." I'm told. But why - I keep asking. Standing still . . . Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind got me - to me. Happy is the man standing still . . . memories lost, joy with pain, happy with lost? I'm still pondering this very effective metaphor of the existing. That beginning quote - does that make sense . . . do you understand it? Did you see it? Did you contemplate it for one second? or are you numb to my existence now. Am I that mere memory. Lacuna, Inc. I wish there was such a thing sometimes . . . to have things . . . people erased from your memory so you won't feel the pain anymore. The hurt. The harbor. The way it used to be. The scariness that this has become for me! Am I ok? I don't know anymore. This person I view you as is twisted and unexplainable. Though NOT lurking, or medieval, or in a vulgar type viewing . . . just scared. SERIOUSLY. of what this "inspiration" has become for me and how it has affected ___. One day I lost you. I'm losing . . . my mind, wrapped up in ___. Listen to me . . . can you hear me in the wind? It's such a beautiful night. Trust the me, inside of me. The me WE met . . . a year ago now. The purity in heart that I KNOW is from God; It hasn't wanted anything but to say: I'M SORRY. BELIEVE in me again -

9/8/09

Pain vs. Joy

Question of the night:

---------------------------

Can you get mad at God when you constantly endure pain?

. . . if pain is all you feel, then when does the joy come? Only for moments . . . "Joy in the midst of pain" - you've heard that phrase. How? Pain is becoming the constant and Joy has faded away. People say that "You decide your own destiny." "You choose if you're going to have a better day." "If you put it out in the universe . . . it will happen." What will happen? Suppression of reality. Yes - I think.

Now, I was never beaten or grew up in a broken home or was a foster child. But I do know pain. - And life's heartaches . . . Everyday - someone asks me, "How are you?" Do they really want to know or are they just asking? I don't think that they reaaaaaaallllllyyyy want to know. Bc you're the "Debbie Downer" right? Riiiiiight. You see yourself that way - I, see myself that way. But I don't want to be - when I see my friends loving life and experiencing things that I have yet been able to experience . . . it's hard (for lack of better words). I don't see myself like others see me - bc what others see is the fake me - the me that has to 'keep it together' in public. They don't see the real me - the one crying in the middle of the night, the one with no one to talk to, the one knelt down by my bed praying, "Lord, I don't understand . . . " - the one who feels like she's missing out on the joys of life - just to "handle" the pain. So again, do you get mad at God? Bc I'm a little mad right now. And the WHY - only few know.

08/25/09

Paying the price~

I never knew that being a teacher came with a price . . . the word: INSPIRE, means something completely different to me now. It used to be something I did - something that I was good at. It has now become something like, "I thought I was doing that." I am paying the price of being a teacher - the downs. The moments that you never see coming because you love doing what you do. BUT! It's when you have completely fallen on your face, you begin to realize, "What has just happened?" and Why? Who said that teaching has to stop at just teaching? Are you not supposed to feel . . . ? Because now, my heart is feeling the pain - of teaching . . . the harsh reality that investing time + interest + honesty = nights filled with sorrow. INSPIRE. Confused about who you are becoming once teaching has ended for the day- a buddy? a friend? a mentor? INSPIRE . . . a memory? EVERYTHING has become a memory? That's what takes your breath away for a moment. You know that sudden gasp of air that comes from shock? Yeah - that. 

Belief would be strong in your mind - BELIEVE and INSPIRE are now 2 words, "I thought I was doing that." As a result of 'paying the price' - Your actions become more unknown to you, yet always with pure intentions, but lacking in reason. Sometimes, you go home in hopes that someone out there needs you - a student to INSPIRE. Students who INSPIRE you. 'the price' is the loss - the "I don't think I can do this anymore" IF INSPIRE means the opposite, the UN. Too invested . . . how not? The growth depends on that - right? Others say - wrong. "To teach is to touch lives forever." - if only in memory then what's the worth? INSPIRE = It Never Separates People Into a Reversed Effect.

2009