Another Half-Hour

(From a blog I am shuttering down.)

September 2016

I trick my self
into believing
reward my self
by thinking

gift my self an extra half-hour sleep.
The funny thing is
is the snooze button works.
Ahhhhh…eternal rest.

And the alarm goes off again.


It is amazing, another feat accomplished unaware, with no clue what i am doing in life. Yep, i am so unprepared to the unpredictability that lies ahead.

Proust’s Questionnaire

Proust’s Questionnaire

Consider Proust’s questions below and answer honestly in a blog post linked to my post, so I can read your answers. Please and thank you! Getting to know you is time well spent. Cheers 🥂!

Please note 📝 it may take me a while to answer them myself.. they are a tad bit heavy fodder to digest. My plan is to sit with this questionnaire for a time and answer slowly. You?

  1. What is your idea of perfect happiness? “”We are healed of a suffering only by experiencing it to the full.” –Proust. Well, that is no answer to happiness. Unless, perhaps, happiness arrives once we clear away the pain. In a physical sense, utter happiness would be found in a log cabin, tucked deep in a forest, with water and mountain views, with me curled up with someone who would love to share their mind. A moment of sheer bliss imagining such a place and time. The magic is that it could and just might happen!
  2. What is your greatest fear? “He sat there silent, watching their love expire.” –Proust.  I truly believe a soul that resembles mine exists. I think I found that soul. I know I have found that soul. I also realize my greatest fear, of never being able to seal our souls as one, also exists. And I sit silent, waiting for a day to come, to prove me wrong.
  3. What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?  “We are all of us obliged, if we are to make reality endurable, to nurse a few little follies in ourselves.” –Proust
  4. What is the trait you most deplore in others? “We are all of us obliged, if we are to make reality endurable, to nurse a few little follies in ourselves.” –Proust
  5. Which living person do you most admire?
  6. What is your greatest extravagance?
  7. What is your current state of mind?
  8. What do you consider the most overrated virtue?
  9. On what occasion do you lie?
  10. What do you most dislike about your appearance?
  11. Which living person do you most despise?
  12. What is the quality you most like in a man?
  13. What is the quality you most like in a woman?
  14. Which words or phrases do you most overuse?
  15. What or who is the greatest love of your life?
  16. When and where were you happiest?
  17. Which talent would you most like to have?
  18. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
  19. What do you consider your greatest achievement?
  20. If you were to die and come back as a person or a thing, what would it be?
  21. Where would you most like to live?
  22. What is your most treasured possession?
  23. What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?
  24. What is your favorite occupation?
  25. What is your most marked characteristic?
  26. What do you most value in your friends?
  27. Who are your favorite writers?
  28. Who is your hero of fiction?
  29. Which historical figure do you most identify with?
  30. Who are your heroes in real life?
  31. What are your favorite names?
  32. What is it that you most dislike?
  33. What is your greatest regret?
  34. How would you like to die?
  35. What is your motto?

Manger Straw

Some days
mom sang me lullabies
and i held my breathe
along with her
join the symphony
of dazzling lights
and ephiphany
“I seen Jesus”.

Her head would slump
and her mouth frown
in exclamation marks
“child i have no idea what you talking about.”

I would
stroke mom’s downy feathers
under her belly
where all such pain lands
bandage the broken wing
and hold my arms up high
“fly Jesus! fly!”

Explain to myself
there is no pillow to lay
my momma’s head
“child she has no idea what you talk about.”

Sitting in the Back Seat

Worcester Art Museum, November 2019

Who is the person
known, but unknown
a mystery to the mind.

Our desires
sizzle and sparks
a rather dark world

where my orange dot
retreats and burns
with hell flames, hotter.

I once laid
flat, in your car
now I kneel at an altar.

You say a woman glows
as a sun-lit finch
woven in grass baskets

and I perched above
your head
my soul soars higher.

Pregnant Woman, Otto Dix, Worcester Art Museum

Midwinter Nightdream

No. Yes I am
content to be silent

so please excuse me
if I resist the urge
to take down the world

shouting at the clouds
to part open
so the sun can speak too.

No. Yes, the sun refuses to shine
as I refuse to grin
and bear the fault of others

as wayward wind
leaves chaos behind,
surface sin hides my face.

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