deliciously dark

DS Levy is one of those brave writers who pens the heart darkly. She transports you to uncomfortable places and makes you think, sometimes cry. This isn’t sweet and saucy fare. A Binary Heart is brutal emotion, honestly formed.
Just got my copy today!

Advertisements

I have been on earth already

“don’t even think about it”
why do we say this to children
think
think about it ALL
just like you and your thoughts
me and mine
leap into the mud puddle
don’t worry about your fucking shoes
I do not want to be held back, I want to think
despite this goddamn aging that pins me at every throw
why didn’t I figured this out when I had media looks
you know, the kind that get me liked
a lot more than just my words
it is over now
there are too many images
God, there are millions
all online, all available, all better
lots of bubbling skin, pouting thighs
can’t, won’t go there
feminism and all that
my brand keeps the flesh undiscovered
naked is nothing new
it’s biblical old
now it’s only words, those things that wreak havoc
trashing the outside to make interesting insides
my brain processes volcanic ash
dead and burnt
flowing just to make a matured point
down into the hole
I leap off the stage
beneath sweating red gels
aren’t you
the world yes, “a stage”
a fucking amphitheater
for the” bizarre” and the “normal”
still those hands reach out
I don’t want to be caught
I want to dive into a pit
stop catching me and making it look right
planned, staged
“don’t even think about it”
a body sails across floating hands
cigarette lighters flicker
for someone deserving of butane
your hands touch my flesh
groping and grappling
I squirm for release
I want to remain in the air
I never want to land
I have been on earth already
it is time for a thoughtless vampire genie
to grant my magical release
with selfish abandon
blue-genie-vamp

the oily well

one of those old feathered quills
dripping in my head
ink dunking into a black oily well
viscous stuff not surface shiny
afraid to tip my toe and get it chewed off
a split brass nib

spears the wilding fish unable to escape
though the winged frogs often do

my heart, another matter
inside that pump house
nothing with hooks to grab onto

only
worn stuffed animals with missing parts
and mismatched broken
crayons

southpaw warrior

southpaw warrior

Darn that Steed with the Apple in Its Mouth

I admit to being somewhat tech-challenged. I know the reason why and I’m trying to face my fears. Almost sixteen years ago I held a corporate job. I loved nearly every aspect of that insane day-in-and day-out grind. I was the Art Director for Prentice Hall Education, High School Division. I came in at an entry-level position, working my way up the corporate rock wall and can tell you there is so much more to ten-pound textbooks than meets the eye.
inside credit page

We designers were using Pantone markers when from over the horizon a white steed with an Apple in its mouth and a saddle-sized CPU on its powerful back came charging. Our world was rocked. We all were gifted shiny, new Macs.

Horaffe/acrylic

Horaffe/acrylic

I learned how to navigate my way around easily enough. I was designing, enjoying and somewhat reckless in obtaining ‘real’ knowledge. My designs looked as they should. I didn’t worry about  production issues because there was a separate department for that and for serious computer issues there was yet another department filled with brilliant techies. As both these departments grew more  savvy, I went the other way. I was learning management stuff and was no longer hands-on.

I left Prentice Hall when my heart knew (as it had for some time) I wasn’t cut out for work and raising my first child. I’d overestimated my multitasking prowess. All the color-coding in the world couldn’t help me (though I did color-code my infant daughters toys for a while–I know, I know…).

Fast forward past two kiddies. Instead of a stay-at-home mom, I become a stay-near-home mom. I return to writing, drawing, painting and all things creative. I find my way back to the beginning of a new path. I return to the heavy, black Mac Powerbook G3 I’d proudly purchased before leaving Prentice Hall. I jumped into Word and tinkered around in Adobe. At the first sign of trouble I yelled out for Tech Support but no one came. I’ve been yelling ever since.