Monday, March 22, 2010

mary poppins and the elephant

i loved you so much
i miss you more than i miss liking myself
i loved you so much
and you lay there so many times, trying for the both of us

and now it's supposed to be different
now we're supposed to be different

i miss you so much
i miss your drip and your bite and your art and the best of us
i miss you so much
and you tell me that you don't miss being scared, you don't miss being scared
well i'm scared

won't you let me lay with you?
please just let me lay with you

i remember so much
like when my jaw gave out as soon as my tongue collapsed in my mouth
do you remember anything?
'cause i remember collecting every day just in hopes of you
remembering me, remembering me

won't you let me lay with you?
please just let me lay with you

Sunday, November 15, 2009


i can't stand the look you write on your face
when he's got his back turned
"girl, i'd give you the world"
and i know you don't think that i could stand in his place
but i'd treat you much better
i lied in that letter

and all the bridges that you burn
i would build you new ones
i swear i'd make it worth all the pain
if you'd stay
please don't run

and i'm sorry that i told you about the all the others
the ones i laid next to
whose only fault were they weren't you
but he's holding you now under my covers
on the last of our autumn nights
you whisper that we're gonna be alright

but all the bridges that you've burnt
i have built you new ones
i swore i'd make it worth
all the pain
if you'd just stay
but you run, you run

and i don't blame you
i do it too
girl, i don't blame you
i do it too

i run, i run
and you run, you run

don't run

Saturday, October 31, 2009


Tongue in Cheek

i'm the wound in your mouth
you'll always keep around
tongue in your cheek
i'm all that you need

i'll cut you with my days
you take the edge off, i'll say
don't fall for me
that's your move, i'll leave

but i'm everything that you'd kill to be
and in your eyes i find no trace of me
so you'll fill my time
while i drain your life
dying for what you can't bring to life

i'll teach you to close your eyes
you've got your faith to get you by
but leave it at my door
and on the living room floor

where i peel back your skin
tear you open, breathe you in
and we did nothing wrong
but now you need me and i'm gone

and i'm everything that you'd kill to be
and in your eyes i find no trace of me
so you'll fill my time while i drain your life
dying for what you can't bring to life

but you're everything that i'd kill to be
because in your eyes i find no trace of me
but you filled my time
while i drained your life
died for what you couldn't bring to life

My Fathers' Daughter

i am my fathers' daughter
full of detached emotion
a poor excuse for a martyr
thrashing forward with the motions

so i sold my soul to jesus
to keep from falling down
'cause, lord, i knew i was lost
but, christ, that wasn't how to be found

and i wanted to be
everything you could have hoped for
everything you could have dreamed
but i never could be
all of the ways i knew i wasn't
all of the lies i tried to believe
they weren't me

i turned sixteen in the summer
the year i learned my fate
why the curves on my face
didn't spell out my name

but i didn't want to hurt her
didn't want to sew that scarlet letter
but i pull the needle through
'cause i can't let go of you

and i wanted to be
everything you could have hoped for
everything you never dreamed
and what a shock to me
stripped without all my efforts
you and you and you still loved me

i am my fathers' daughter
full of detached emotion


i've got all my feelings and thoughts
locked in my neglected heart
can't share them with nobody
so i'll cross my legs and learn my lines
sit up straight and do my time
while i'm waiting for somebody
to save me from my hidden hell
it's you tonight but i can tell
you could be anybody
lay down on the kitchen floor
give it all, and i'll need more
but i'm taking only your body

and she don't kiss right
but she holds me so tight
so i won't go home tonight
and he makes it alright
but only in the moonlight
so i can't go home tonight

he takes on all my fears
till all his hopes have disappeared
a shell of a body
so i'll trade my hands for steady ones
take on legs that don't need to run
inside of her body
oh, my habits are catching up
i smoke too much, don't eat enough
but i'm not my body
i feel the beating slowing down
muscles loose, a final bow
i am leaving my body

she don't kiss right
but she holds me so tight
so i won't go home tonight
and he makes it alright
but only in the moonlight
so i won't go home tonight

Sunday, July 26, 2009

A post by my dear friend lee that i had to share:

The Omaha World Herald reported that Bright Eyes was found dead in his apartment in New York today, surrounded by clocks and calendars. The coroners have determined that he died from a sudden fit of vanity.

When departing on the Conor Oberst solo vision quest, Bright Eyes commented that he could only write so many songs about being lost. For many of his listeners that were uplifted by and identified with that indeterminable indecisiveness, lost is how Bright Eyes will remain. Shoeless, in the middle of the woods, surrounded by circling wolves, calling out to his fabled Arienette. Apparently, the sound of lonliness wasn't what made him happy anymore.

In his rigor mortis stilted hands he clutched what seems to be his requiem, a final album that will be released in the fall of 2010.

We all wish Mr. Bright Eyes luck clawing his way up from that chalk outline.

Monday, February 9, 2009

Sunday, February 8, 2009

We sat together at one summer's end,
That beautiful mild woman, your close friend,
And you and I, and talked of poetry.

I said, "A line will take us hours maybe;
Yet if it does not seem a moment's thought,
Our stitching and unstitching has been naught.
Better go down upon your marrow-bones
And scrub a kitchen pavement, or break stones
Like an old pauper, in all kinds of weather;
For to articulate sweet sounds together
Is to work harder than all these, and yet
Be thought an idler by the noisy set
Of bankers, schoolmasters, and clergymen
The martyrs call the world."

And thereupon
That beautiful mild woman for whose sake
There's many a one shall find out all heartache
On finding that her voice is sweet and low
Replied, "To be born woman is to know --
Although they do not talk of it at school --
That we must labour to be beautiful.'

I said, "It's certain there is no fine thing
Since Adam's fall but needs much labouring.
There have been lovers who thought love should be
So much compounded of high courtesy
That they would sigh and quote with learned looks
precedents out of beautiful old books;
Yet now it seems an idle trade enough."

We sat grown quiet at the name of love;
We saw the last embers of daylight die,
And in the trembling blue-green of the sky
A moon, worn as if it had been a shell
Washed by time's waters as they rose and fell
About the stars and broke in days and years.

I had a thought for no one's but your ears:
That you were beautiful, and that I strove
To love you in the old high way of love;
That it had all seemed happy, and yet we'd grown
As weary-hearted as that hollow moon.

- william butler yeats

Monday, January 26, 2009

the prayer we missed

Opening Inaugural Event
Lincoln Memorial, Washington , DC
January 18, 2009
Delivered by the Right Reverend V. Gene Robinson:

"Welcome to Washington! The fun is about to begin, but first, please join
me in pausing for a moment, to ask God's blessing upon our nation and our
next president.

O God of our many understandings, we pray that you will...

Bless us with tears - for a world in which over a billion people exist on less
than a dollar a day, where young women from many lands are beaten and raped for
wanting an education, and thousands die daily from malnutrition, malaria, and

Bless us with anger - at discrimination, at home and abroad, against refugees
and immigrants, women, people of color, gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender

Bless us with discomfort - at the easy, simplistic
we've preferred to hear from our politicians, instead of the truth, about
ourselves and the world, which we need to face if we are
going to rise to the challenges of the future.

Bless us with patience - and the knowledge that none of what ails us will be
"fixed" anytime soon, and the understanding that our new president is
a human being, not a messiah.

Bless us with humility - open to understanding that our own needs must always
be balanced with those of the world.

Bless us with freedom from mere tolerance - replacing it with a genuine respect
and warm embrace of our differences, and an understanding that in our diversity,
we are stronger.

Bless us with compassion and generosity - remembering that every religion's
God judges us by the way we care for the most vulnerable in the human community,
whether across town or across the world.

And God, we give you thanks for your child
Barack, as he assumes the office of
President of the United States. Give him wisdom beyond his years, and inspire
him with Lincoln's reconciling leadership style, President Kennedy's
ability to enlist our best efforts, and Dr. King's dream of a nation for ALL
the people.

Give him a quiet heart, for our Ship of State needs a steady, calm captain in
these times. Give him stirring words, for we will need to be inspired and
motivated to make the personal and common sacrifices necessary to facing the
challenges ahead.

Make him color-blind, reminding him of his own words that under his leadership,
there will be neither red nor blue states, but the United States.

Help him remember his own oppression as a minority, drawing on that experience
of discrimination, that he might seek to change the lives of those who are still
its victims.

Give him the strength to find family time and privacy, and help him
that even though he is president, a father only gets one shot at his
daughters' childhoods.

And please, God, keep him safe. We know we ask too much of our presidents, and
we're asking FAR too much of this one. We know the risk he and his wife are
taking for all of us, and we implore you, O good and great God, to keep him
safe. Hold him in the palm of your hand - that he
might do the work we have called him to do, that he might find joy in this
impossible calling, and that in the end, he might lead us as a nation to a place
of integrity, prosperity and peace.


Thursday, January 15, 2009


Saturday, December 20, 2008

the tree

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Nickel and Dimed - Barbara Ehrenreich

"Job searches take their toll, even in the case of totally honest applicants, and I am feeling particularly damaged. The personality tests, for example: the truth is I don’t much care if my fellow workers are getting high in the parking lot or even lifting the occasional retail item, and I certainly wouldn’t snitch if I did. Nor do I believe that management rules by divine right or the undiluted force of superior knowledge, as the “surveys” demand you acknowledge. It whittles you down to lie up to fifty times in the space of the fifteen minutes or so it takes to do a “survey,” even when there is a higher moral purpose to serve. Equally draining is the effort to look both perky and compliant at the same time, for half an hour or more at a stretch, because while you need to evince “initiative,” you don’t want to come across as someone who might initiate something like a union organizing drive. Then there is the threat of the drug tests, hanging over me like a fast-approaching SAT. It rankles—at some deep personal, physical level—to know that the many engaging qualities I believe I have to offer—friendliness, reliability, willingness to learn—can all be trumped by my pee."

"It is common, among the nonpoor, to think of poverty as a sustainable condition—austere, perhaps, but they get by somehow, don’t they? They are “always with us.” What is harder for the nonpoor to see is poverty as acute distress: The lunch that consists of Doritos or hot dog rolls, leading to faintness before the end of the shift. The “home” that is also a car or a van. The illness or injury that must be “worked through,” with gritted teeth, because there’s no sick pay or health insurance and the loss of one day’s pay will mean no groceries for the next. These experiences are not part of a sustainable lifestyle, even a lifestyle of chronic deprivation and relentless low-level punishment. They are, by almost any standard of subsistence, emergency situations. And that is how we should see the poverty of so many million of low-wage Americans—as a state of emergency."

"Any dictatorship takes a psychological toll on its subjects. If you are treated as an untrustworthy person—a potential slacker [No talking directives], drug addict [employment drug testing], or thief [personality tests]—you may begin to feel less trustworthy yourself. If you are constantly reminded of your lowly position in the social hierarchy, whether by individual managers or by a plethora of impersonal rules, you begin to accept that unfortunate status…If you’re made to feel unworthy enough, you may come to think that what you’re paid is what you are actually worth."

Thursday, December 4, 2008

prop 8: the musical

See more Jack Black videos at Funny or Die

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

the greatest day of all time

only now I do believe

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

election day

Tuesday, October 7, 2008