Month: August 2003

Rereading

Here is a stanza that I find myself rereading:

Oh never weep for love that’s dead

Since love is seldom true

But changes his fashion from blue to red,

From brightest red to blue,

And love was born to an early death

And is so seldom true.

If we’re true to fashion, it doesn’t matter whether red flare bright or blue turn all. I wonder, though, if I am true to fashion or true to color?

“I can love you for your blue and red, for your seasonal change, and find each color true to me, and never weep for love that’s dead.”

“I can weep for your colors and love each one in turn.”

Oh Love was born and is so seldom, truly. But never weep for love that’s dead, only love that’s born.

SILK FLOWERS (for Nick)

Give to gold its weight

Regent of dewy night, Fawn-

spotted cooling stream

Unite, impel, di-

late th’ effulgent whole he

sparkling daughters crown’d

of stern Eluding

mortal sight, He fades; he dis-

appears And silence

lulls the sky we court

nor sings nor many-tinted

rays concoct, refine,

And hymn, concentrick

orbs struggling to impair bless’d

quaffing nectar Rob’d

Till twitter moving

lancer of the golden keen

by green-hair’d Ocean’s

gem-bespangled shore

charm’d Gocul’s od’rous cleft head

sandal-breathing flow’r

attesting secret

deeds, skirts, robes, charm, form, and stain

load the tortoise bore

Art is a non-profit foundation. Art is blush. Art should be organic, to assist us in overcoming the organic in appearance.

Art should be biodegradable.

I used to want to write the body, but now I want to write the Body Shop.

I remember my first impression of the Language poets: they didn’t wear makeup. In poetry they were decidedly against “organic form,” but in skin care it was definitely the natural look.

Enjoying going back and reading this articulate post of Bill Marsh’s on plagiarism.

URBAN BARBIE

I HATE MYSELF FOR SLEEPING!

1. This Isn’t The Tenka-ichi Budokai. 2. Urban Barbie. 3. Polar Bear

Summer. 4. …And Keep Reaching For Those Stars.

Pung, Stressface. poopooloo. crescent. neutral. pink. paint me pink. school. backstabbers. pure blood bitches. …

The following communities are also interested in

“i hate myself”. … The following users are also interested in i hate myself. …

I hate myself.. because I am utterly unable …

you’s not fat – you’s curvaceous and voluptuous, and there ain’t much wrong

wit dat.

I hate myself for being such a wimp.

I hate myself! I’m not looking for sympothy, in fact, just the opposite.

.. and i hate the world we live in, because its all about how you look. and i think

i look like shit. and i hate myself for thinking that. i know i shouldnt care. …

I hate myself… … I hate myself for looking pretty, I hate myself for being silly,

I hate myself for covering it up, I hate it all, My life’s fucked up. …

Dear I Hate Myself, Sounds to me like she is actually blackmailing you. …

I Hate Myself <–Honesty. Why is it that I am such

an impossible person to love? I guess I apparently make things …

I spoke too soon about Curtis. That night was amazing… but he doesn’t want what I thought he wanted. I guess the whole “Wait to have sex thing” is pretty true. But he thought we were both still on the “We both just want sex” side of things.. but I had totally crossed over SO quickly he didn’t see it as far as me wanting more.

But at this point all he wants is sex. And while I understand that.. it doesn’t hurt any less.

And he told me that he doesn’t want a long distance relationship, at ALL.. no matter how we feel about each other at the end of summer.. is kind of the impression I got. and I just really wanna die right now. 😥

I won’t do anything, but GOD I hate feeling like this. I hate being this sad… I hate not liking myself… but I hate the way I feel inside. I just hate it all tonight.

We’ve known each other for a fucking week and it’s totally fucked me up. Why do I always do this with guys? Why can’t I just slow down emotionally? Whether or not we had sex when we did, I would have been this attached already… so that’s not what it was.. but it makes it so hard knowing that what felt SO great might not happen again. And that I might not find someone else that makes my body feel that good.

I just really fucking hate myself right now.

How did our ancestors live without sweat-proof makeup? And isn’t it interesting that my foundation withstands humidity, but not tears?

Summer, however, is still a lousy season for body lotion.loitering For body lotion.I want them to be rich and creamy, but by afternoon I already regret giving in to the luxury of morn.

Thank you, Nick. Flowers are the best gift because they turn our houses inside out and display our true nature: domesticity. This is why I love silk flowers. A bouquet of poetry is even silkier.

Orange is a hot color, but it has a soothing effect.