Seven Things To Do Before I Die:


1. Travel to Italy and see all the marvels that I study first hand
2. Release a CD
3. Become a cougar!
4. Attend a masquerade
5. learn how to cook
6. Hit puberty
7. Get a tan

Seven Things I Cannot Do:

1. add
2. open a child-proof medicine bottle
3. the front crawl
4. touch my toes
5. skateboard/snowboard/skate or ski
6. keep my room clean for more than one day
7. lick my own elbow

Seven Things That Attract Me To My Spouse (or Significant Other, Best Friend, etc.)

1. his calm demeanour
2. the intent way that he listens
3. the way he hums in a falsetto when he's working, but doesn't know he's doing it
4. the way he always smells like clean laundry and soap
5. his gorgeous shoulders... rarrrrr...
6. his unfrazzle-able logic
7. the vulnerable way he looks out of the top of his eyes

Seven Things I Say (or Write) Most Often:

1. rarr
2. ow ('m clumsy)
3. that was super-fun!
4. I like dogs. and trees. (the naughty brits will understand that one)
5. oh my god i'm soooooooo drunk (after half a drink)
6. I know. (after any compliment)
7. and then? and then? (my verbal story telling skills suck!)

Seven Books (or Series) I love:

1. The Return of the Native by Thomas Hardy
2. A Complicated Kindness (my life story) by Miriam Toews
3. The Floating Book by M.R. Lovric
4. The Birth of Venus by Sarah Dunant
5. Cranford by Elizabeth Gaskell
6. The Chronicles of Narnia
7. Bridge To Terabithia (the best novel for children ever written!)

Seven Movies I Would Watch Over and Over Again:

1. Gia (her personality is eerily like the one i'm finally outgrowing)
2. Requiem For A Dream
3. My Summer of Love
4. The Last Emperor
5. Fight Club
6. Pulp Fiction
7. Amelie (her personality is what I wish I could grow into!)

Profane

I'm stripping off my choir robes
I'm trading in my maiden-head
I warm myself between your sheets tonight
No father, son, no holy ghost
Can touch me where I need it most
My trinity's the Spirit, Mind, Flesh.

This Is not Love

My world I hold within my hand
And though I rise to your command
This is not love, you're just my comforter
You spread your warmth like a duvet
And yet I shiver anyway
Though burning coals of lust heap in our bed.

Seen

They just see
My fragile form
My painted smile
My chiselled stare
They don't see me
I just see
My insecurities
My lack of ability
My immaturity
I don't see me

What could I know of love?
That isn't like me.

How could you
See beyond the masquerade?
How did you know
My tired game was all played out?
I wish you didn't have to see
THe mess I've made, but,
Welcome.
Come on in.
I want you to see me.

What do you know of love,
And can you show me?

I can see our future
Flash before my eyes
Like a wishful daydream,
I awaken, and surprise!
You're stil there
Strong and gentle
In the tender morning sunrise
You let me love you.

How can I show my love,
And what do you see?

You don't see my fragile form
My painted smile
My chiselled stare
You just see me...

Hello There Kitty

Well, hello there, Kitty
So it's true then
You've lost all your ribbons
-The p'ittiest red ribbons-
They've turned up in pockets
-The strangest of pockets-
You don't need a rocket scientist to know
Who was with who behind where at the fair.

Benjamite Bride
No shotgon weilding Pa at your side
Everyone knows you're our dancing girl
Anykind
Whatever kind
Anykind we want
Keep dancing, we're slipping our paws up your thighs
There's a tribe in your trousers.
you-you-you-you-you allow this.
Allow this!
Allow this!


So build me an alter
Pile up your stones
I'll curl up in the Son spot
Lay down these old bones
and this flesh,
This primal rib
Return me to sender
He'll be so glad you did.

Delerium

My first erotic poem. I performed it at Lula Lounge. It's more of a pong, half poem half song. I'm not comfortable with explicit eroticm poems, preferring instead innuendo, which makes me an unpopular erotic poet... lol.



Delerium
Rising out of me and
Falling into you
Cresting on the waves of your lust
Pulled down to the deep
And breaking the waves of my insecurity

I wash upon your shore
The gift of my mermaidenhead
And the key to the secrets that lie between my thighs.

Fight the tide
It pulls you down
Ride the wave
It brings you home
Drink you in
Lap you up
Baptized in you.

Take me away
To the land filled with
Your milk and my honey

Kiss My Wrist

I don't understand him, but he's called about 6 times today. I'm not sure if he considers this grovelling. He "sensed" that I had "something on my mind" and if I wanted to talk. And I realized that I didn't really know what I would say. How do I feel? I don't know. I don't know what we're talking about. But I intend to extract a massage from him, as form of penance.

Wild Explosions of Babies!!!

I actually spent today studying instead of spreading bits of myself all over my blog, so there's no poems today. Instead, I have news! My brother is popping out his sixth kid! wow. And he's buying himself some cows. I think he told me about the baby cows before he mentioned his own baby, which would be just wrong.

Beautiful

It seems like every song writer out there now either has a song titled "beautiful" or "hallelujah". This song was written for a boy, actually. I met him in the hospital. When I sang it for him, he requested that I make the persona female. I guess we're not quite ready for gender bending when it comes to emotional issues and body image. But hey, I'm pale, and with my bug-eyes I can look scared. So while this song isn't really about me, I'm vain enough to own it.



I see when I'm looking in the mirror
The reflection of a girl I know
She's looking kinda scared and
She's looking kinda pale
She sees me but she's all alone
She takes a step outside her head
Sees what's out there
Sees if instead
Things are simpler
Answers clearer
If voices make sense
Out there.

If I could just reach out
Touch her face
Wipe the tears that fall gently
Caress that furrowed brow
Wipe her mind clean

If I could see how you see me
Would I find me beautiful?
If I could hear, crystal clear
Would you call me beautiful?

You

A happy love song, written originally for God, but taken back and regifted.... This pic is more perfect than I could have ever dreamed of....



You bring peace to this trembling heart
You deliver me from my fears
I hear you whisper
Silencing the murmers of my fickle and wandering heart.

You shine your light into my dark
I feel your breath a sweet caress
Your loving arms are strong enough
To pluck me from the cold clutches of my apathy.

I wonder how you found me
And marvel that you chose me
I'm overwhelmed by your empathy
Your love is so fierce it
Subdues my proud spirit
I let your love control me.

Your gaze pierces
My downtrod spirit
No wound so deep that
Your love can't heal it.

You hear me cry
You soothe my soul
You make me fly.

Worship, Sort Of

My faith was always characterized by reluctance and terror.
I wrote this song at what I thought was a turning point. I thought God had sent an angel. It wasn't Michael though.
God sent me Hagar's angel. It wasn't by mistake.
I keep this song to remember where I thought I was going.



They say that I've fallen
And You know it's true
I followed my own star
And mistook it for You
I struggled for so long
To make my way through
Now this is me
Taking my first step
Back to You.

I am running towards You
I long to see Your face
I realize how much I need to
Surrender to Your strong embrace.

I am waiting for You
I trust in Your healing power
This time I know that You're here with me
Illuminate my darkest hour.

Now. And Then?

This song is pretty juvenile, I apologize, I wrote it along time ago. But I guess that's part of it all, and it needs to be heard. This reflects some of the pain of being sexually exploited by a pastor, the feelings of abandonment, both by the clergy, and by God. Judging by this stain-glass, it seems like pastors never could keep their hands off their children.



You know me, can see through me
But can't you see what you do to me?
You call and I yield when
All I want is to be free from you
And the shame that lacerates my heart when you are gone
And I know, it isn't me you want.

But it could be I'm just not ready for you now
And thenm, I wasn't ready for you.

My silent disconsent echoes loudly all the same
But God don't send angels to help a girl who can't pronounce his name.
And I know, I should not complain
Against the One, who with one word
Could take away this pain.

But it could be, He's just not ready for me now
And then, He wasn't ready for me.

How could I have known the road that I chose
Would land me in this sinkhole?
Shouldn't I have known before I took off
That You'd leave me flying solo?
How do I know that this path
Isn't one I've crawled before?
When will I know how to find the light
That leads me home?

It could be I'm just not ready for this now.
And then, who could be ready for this?

Baptism - August 1999

Look what they've done to you
You said you could outrun them all
But you're sleepwalking with the wolf pack again.
I see you there,
Bleeding alone in the dark
Chanting your lessons
Lectured in silence
By voices who've never spoken at all
The sea's turned to blood,
Your mouth has run dry
They're pulling you down,
Feel that cleansing tide
Let it wash over you
See the guilt-slick glisten
You're dead to the world now
You don't know what you're missing.

Just you and the boys and the man in the moon
You're pinned on your back and the water is rising
You call on your god who could sleep through a storm
But he keeps on dreaming - now ain't that surprising?

So sing me a song as you fall on your knees
In worship, in whore-ship, in bull-shit, in shame
Your spacepants are soiled, the Jetsons can't save you
They're pointing their fingers, shifting the blame.

She's not one to cry
All you Christian boys
Go ahead
Squeeze all you like
The pain you inflict doesn't hurt her one bit.

White Skin: White Guilt

I wrote this piece a while back and posted it on this message board I'm on and got mostly negative feedback (mostly from white people) saying that I hated my skin and that I hated my culture etc etc. i'm going to post it here and see if anyone has anything to say.

first, my lil preamble. I wrote this during a time when I first left the sect and started to see for the first time the effects of european colonialism on the rest of the world. I consider myself to be a well educated person. yet the things that I learned through interacting with people and doing some surplus reading shocked me because I had never heard of it in my school system. so basically, this was my feelings on suddenly catching a glimpse of what is really obvious. let me know what you think.


excuse me if i'm showing a little too much skin here tonight...
if my whiteness blinds you
if my white skin reminds you
of white power
white rage
white demons
if my white face conjures memories of
white crimes
no white magic could ever erase

in efforts to appease this
i play blonde haired blue eyed jesus
and hope that i
crucified
might seize this one chance to
exorcise these
white lies
which demonize
and oppress our nation
throught process of education.

these white washed stories
of white past glories
born in black blood sweat and tears
well here's a story for you
my white blooded father's
blue blooded brother
raped cold blooded mother
and my blood boils
and would reverse its flow
as head to toe i'm covered in this symbol of sin
this blood bathed
this blood bought
this un-fair white skin.

Lullaby

Hush, lil darlin, don't say a word
Noone's gonna help you anyway
Daddy's little girl has a secret
It's better if we keep it that way.

They'll say it's all in your head
That your story's not credible.
Don't bite the hand that has fed you so long.
Now close your eyes, rest your head
Tonight could be forgettable
Don't bite the hand that has silenced you so long.

Wipe the tears from your cheek
Don't think of memories unspeakable
Ignore the voices that shriek to be heard
I'll be gone when you wake,
Leave you with memories unshakable
Our silent vow, don't you break it.
Don't say a word.

Hush lil darlin, dry your eye
You know I gave you nothing to cry about.
Daddy's little girl is a woman now
What a pretty little thing she turned out.

Pray For Rain

They say that you're leaving,
Is it me?
Was it something I said?
That's what I was afraid of.
Were you scared to hear the words I was too afraid to say?

They say that you're leaving me
Here to fend for myself
Trying hard to be brave enough,
But who's left to protect me from myself?

You used to tell me I was your muse
But you've gone and left me here, all confused.

They say that you're leaving,
You're afraid of the dark hidden space in my heart
Of secrets, unspoken til now.

Remnants of a life spent together
Silent witnesses, called to witness to
Memories of love
Fragments shattered and embedded in my flesh
Burning embers of lust
Spark a bush-fire blasing out of control
Undermining trust
Smoked out I lie shivering, you lie smouldering
Pray for rain.

You Are Here

poem on dope... sung to a child's fairy tale tune.



A salesman, a fireman
A chicken pot-pieman
If you deep fry them they all taste the same
They're inside, they're outside
And finally upside-down
Always remember to forget their names.

Amnesia, insomnia
The football team's been on ya
I can smell locker-jock musk in your hair
He's coming, you're going
To find yourself blowing
The rest of your life on your knees with Pierre.

One pastor, one jester
And one child molester
A thinker, a drinker
An off-key lip syncher
A waiter, a skater
They all want to date her
And fuck her in her puckered starfish derriere.

Hands in the air!

I just recently woke up! Last night was crazy. It was my friend's birthday, and we all went to Inside to celebrate. I hadn't been there in ages. My first time there was probably in 2001, back when *A* was still alive. I went with *K* and his friends, and it was a great underground spot. Deep soulful house was playing in the basement, and I remember that there were hardly any people there, but we had such an amazing time, just losing ourselves in the music. I remember soon after that, the club took off, and it became the "land of the pretty people" and those who really wanted to fit in with that crowd. It was crap then, with way too much decor which took away from the floor space. I don't know, but I think beds in a club are just a waste of space. Anyways, last night I saw that it had been totally renovated, the beds were gone, the couch areas in the middle of the bar area were taken out, and it was a much better vibe. Lots of space, everyone was dancing, the music was hype. Dr. Jay was there, and it's been ages since I've gone to one of his jams. Our crew took over the floor but it was all good.

I got home around 5:30am, and I likely lost 5 pounds just from the workout of the dancing itself. I forgot how soca jams are such a workout! Anyways, I'm kind of dazed still, but when I get the pics I shall upload them. I'm sure there's not a decent pic among the hundreds taken, but that usually means the party was too fun for posing!

I'm a SuperStar!!!!!

You don't know me though, and you never will, but that's not the point. the point IS... almost a year after production, we finally got our movie out there, so technically, I'm a star!

We had a screening back in March, and it went over really well. It was for Inside Out Film Festival, the Lesbian/Gay Film Fest they have ever year. Well, me and my friends made a short film, the theme is the randomness of sexual fantasies that our presence instills into other peoples minds when they see us. and what kind of fantasies do we need to fulfil to understand ourself. with a good healthy overdose of madonna/whore imagery just because we could

A Starbucks Blog Reminded Me Of This!

Many a Starbucks sleeve I defaced with that. But when my pent-up rage still wasn't alleviated, I got personal!

I Swear I'm Not Morbid, Really!!

Looking over my post titles? I seem obsessed with death! Which is totally misleading. I'm rabidly happy most times! You'll just have to trust me until you get to know me a bit better...

So tomorrow's the last day of class for this semester, and I totally don't feel like doing the homework for it, which is prolly why I'm online. Can't wait though, because tomorrow night we're taking my friend out for her birthday, and I'm going to ride in a limo! Apparently I rode in a really small limo when my ancient brother got married about a decade or so ago, but who remembers such things?

Last weekend I went out with some friends to Fluid. It was an uneventful night. Too much smirnoff twisted will do that. The most exciting part of the whole night was when I broke the heel off my favourite boots, and my trusty-even-when intoxicated British friend whipped out the duct tape and fixed me up just fine. Take a look at her handiwork! sexy, isn't it?

Well, as fun as this awkward self revelation is, I need to run downstairs and get fed before the dining hall closes.... mmmmm rez food!