- within my person,
- December 31
- i’m myself. a superhero with human flaws. white noises scratched at precise 3:21 intervals.sometimes an anesthetized bundle little more or less than alright version of me. a part time erotophobic. fulltime whole number not equal to the sum of its parts. a therapist in session with her id. a sliver of mini heart beats. an i love you nestled between a scream.
MY RECENT POSTS
- when the walls we build don't
keep us warm
July 30, 2011 04:07PM
- Yardsticks & valuables: the
Ruth Persico story
January 06, 2011 01:15PM
- at mid morning
October 13, 2010 10:13PM
- amidst scrap metal and crisis
October 02, 2010 02:23AM
- Tending the moment
August 26, 2010 06:09PM
MY RECENT COMMENTS
- “i meant
October 02, 2012 07:53PM
- “yes you
that answer reads very 2008
obama campaign-ish, i
October 02, 2012 07:52PM
- “i'm like V. Corso; moved
by the line
October 01, 2012 04:10PM
- “i'm taking this with me:
" they offer us one suggestion
what to do
October 01, 2012 04:07PM
- “"There are times one
travels to see the sights,
other times when
September 19, 2012 04:47PM
Renatta Laundry's Links
- MY LINKS
“I was pregnant once, married twice, never viscerally in love, and I’m not sure what this is, but I like having you around.”
It was one of those brisk and perfect fall days with its burnt orange, rust brown, magnificent red splattered everywhere that caused things to unr… Read full post »
The day after is always the hardest and usually spent in delay; breakfast, writing, walking the Pomeranian whining behind the laundry room door, everything, postponed until sunset. She eyes the old playbill, an invitation to Cynthia’s baby shower, and the neatly stacked leaves of her manuscript… Read full post »
it's about that thing
that woke me mid morning
like little drops of april and july
like crimson calms & jabs
saying handsome things about
the palm from which it read
sing-song style across beauty marks,
removed warts, fraying cuticles
and old manicures.
& with emphasis raw,
because it… Read full post »
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn out tools;
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
Excerpted… Read full post »
It amazes her how the same distance is felt differently. Forty five minutes of skyscrapers giving way to railroads, factories, tunnels, tolls, and finally suburban lawns and homes, now seem like a several hours trip to the Greenwich Meridian. She reads traffic signs, billboards, train wall advertisem… Read full post »
It shows no discretion; this heat that forces the body to knife through palpable annoyance in order to maneuver the spaces between bathroom, kitchen, bedroom and hallway. The familiar inquisition ‘aren’t you from the tropics’ carousel riding my cranium makes me dizzy even though I k… Read full post »
“I wouldn’t write about people who are living and who are close to me, because I think it’s a very violent thing to do to another person… And anytime I have done it, even in the disguise of fiction, the results have been horrific.” -Zadie Smith (NPR– Brave, Brainy… Read full post »
There were two of them. But within those 83,000 square miles of rivers, counties and rainforest, nobody wanted to admit they existed. No family would tell another that their brother, cousin, uncle, aunt, or any relative for that matter shared an orientation other than heterosexual. Still, there were… Read full post »
He hates mornings when the evidence of past lives and old moisture pushes upward from the carpet and hangs heavily in the air. After they moved in, he had purposed to remove the once maroon number but several other projects took preeminence. “Delay continues to bit… Read full post »
She seemed to have been born with a certain brand of precocity and oomph. When she was old enough to go alone, she refused to be chauffeured but chose to take the minibus. As it climbed the hill, she would yell “the first house over the line.” Over the line, a… Read full post »
He and I took turns at gently perforating her skin with tiny safety pins. A seemingly cruel act for someone who truly epitomized loving your spouse the way you love yourself, but it was a sure-fire act geared to cease the draw of her snoring. Whether they drowned the roll of… Read full post »
for a moment as a hurricane in your bosom, where forlorn no longer stretches me between sleep and nostalgia, i’d rescind the very beat of my circadian. exhale. let my belly go. run wild and unruly between the rows of sugar cane in your demerara.
would disrupt a colony of… Read full post »
she admires them. invertebrates. and contrary to popular belief, not for their exoskeleton; a clichéd parallel people enjoy drawing between that characteristic and the seemingly impermeable demeanor she totes. they’ve often complained about the harsh line that tightens at her jaw every t… Read full post »
“Shhh. Don’t move.”
The lace of fingers unraveled from her neck but his warning- which began as a whisper in the ear- remained a sonorous resound in her head. Sonia stole a shallow breath, wrapped her legs in her arms and cradled them to her chest.
“Uh huh. Not like… Read full post »
no one seems to notice
her predicates skillfully sliced thin
for ear. esteem. ego. gashing.
or him, trying to crawl across
the broken edges
of things in the aftermath
searching for souvenirs,
particles for a make shift model
of his heart. soul. spirit.
hoping amidst the rubble… Read full post »
In eight days, a birthday will bum rush me and twenty five will become a fossil but before it departs to form another mote of my bygone, this is a slice of 357 and a quarter days ago.
Normally, my birthdays are celebrated from the first to the last day of… Read full post »
In the Trenton New Jersey Rowan Towers high rise, where it is said to be so dangerous that police officers function as security guards, a 15 year old girl, upon invitation by a few men, pimped her 7 year old sister.
According to media reports on Wednesday March 31st, t… Read full post »
in the mystery of shop windows;
between books & people
pushing pass surface emotions.
i tell myself i can do this;
can introduce my self to people.
could probably say:
i’m a girl turned woman in commute...
leaving that statement half finished to ask;
do you liste… Read full post »
'I’m not a good person. Would be even worse as a mother. And the most humane thing I could do is leave you with your father.’
Rayon-Charmeuse , unable to go further, would only read to this point. Too afraid the sobs racking her chest would crash against her ribcage and… Read full post »
As usual, I will sleep in the dark with the radio on. <-- the lone paradox in this green world of mine. allowing Saturday’s night to fall even and seamlessly into Sunday morning with the same radio pumping music into the bundle of my collective.
I know I will awake with giddy… Read full post »
While perusing the OS blogosphere, I stumbled upon a mother ‘sharing evil with her daughter’ in hopes that she is ‘looking it in the face…calling it by its name…[and thus] hemorrhaging its power…sharing hope’ Indeed a com… Read full post »
warlock and witch perched sacrificial
upon Sappho’s altar--
a divine monosyllable
in tandem with the delicious
gargle of lust, love and skin
clasped hook and eye seamless
like hieroglyphs and hymns.
definitely a love made without homage
to the gods of phallus and erecti… Read full post »
awoke drowning. breathless. panting for air. trying to swim to the surface. but helplessly submerged in a sea of something’s direly wrong emotions.
looked around, everything seemed okay. covers covered my very naked body. no intruders. deep intake of breath. jamaican fruit incense of y… Read full post »
was roaming the alcoves of my 'puter(<--as a close friend's son calls it) & found a few books that i've placed on editorial review. the following is from the one titled Sovereignty of Space.
i imagined calving icebergs
as tributaries formed between my thig… Read full post »
he had ugly feet
and big palms of gentility
that cupped ample breasts
and sturdy buns.
same hands that reached in
and shook the cradle of my creativity
& though i never birthed his babies
i’ve labored for many a poems
in his name ~this included~
loving him… Read full post »