March 31st, 2005



feroce posted this:

It reminds me of a James Fenton poem that I reread recently:

'The Ideal'

This is where I came from.
I passed this way.
This should not be shameful
Or hard to say.

A self is a self.
It is not a screen.
A person should respect
What he has been.

This is my past
Which I shall not discard.
This is the ideal.
This is hard.

I've always used the term "Bricks that Built Me"
but this works too.

Thanks, feroce--I needed that.

This Place.............our LJ.

How do you spell Genuflect?

I love you People.

You keep me safe, and whole.

You are, my "talking journal".........
all the ink spent on pages alone 'til now, HERE.........
I have response.

A stage.
A shelter.

I can rattle around in my head........
And then be petted or chastised.


We Take Care of Each Other.

Long before I joined the internet.......I heard about
it's premise.

It sounded amazing.

Every Door with a Window.........
The World United.

An idea.

Conceptually it was ZER near Porn to me.
It turned me ON.

Now--bigger than I could have imagined.
Thrusting hard and long and thick.

I lay back and shiver.


I can talk with an English girl who was my Friend
in DoDDs High School..........
In 1987......

Germany is far away.........But she isn't.

She's right here.

I try to write on paper now--
but I can't.

The electric page is my habit.
My fingers know the keys.

It can all disappear.
In a moment.

All we have.
It's just energy.


When I kick my heels up outside, back at work, and stare into the clear blue
cloudless March Austin sky--on my break?

I turn my little Shuffle up loud.

I sip on water.

It could all go away, any moment.

But isn't it gorgeous.
Isn't it?

I know a Scott, in Hungary.
I know about his life.

I get to Love him.

Electric Pages.

The World, despite itself..........
is grown small.

But we are only a moment.
Only--a moment.

My whole self is wrapped around THIS one.
holding hard and tight.

Breathing deep.

Fighting Sleep.

Wishing I knew more languages.
Boy Of Steel

(no subject)

I have to get this song to you.


It's funny--in that way that FUNNY hurts.

Bites you and chews.

Just a girl's voice and a guitar.
Cheeky--and simple.

The Myth of the Man of Steel.

From a girlfriend of Lois Lane.

Who knows.

We gotta walk through this soon.......on AIM.

(that boy worked really hard to get the bounces and skips out of the songs....
tracked it out to Blinky Box Friendly--)

A record from 1986.
That's still floating around the Blinky Box World.

Uncle Bonsai.

From WAX.



If only Lois knew, Clark kent could see through her dress,
She could have flown to his arms, and uncovered his S.

Lois is not the hero here.
She gets the guitar.

I mean, C;mon...........who hangs that close to Superman
and can't see?

It's a Girl's voice.
I can see her hands on the fretts.

"If only Lois Knew."


You have to hear this.
The Sisters

Girl Go To Bed Now........

Weak and Tired.

Numbed enough to slip into sleep.


Maybe i will dream of flying.............
And The Man of Steel.

Maybe I will just fly into Trees........
and be unable to think myself past the roots.

When bread rises, you punch it down.
With healthy fists.

I keep telling myself that.

Time for the loaf to rest.

Croutons for another day...................

The Next Salad Days.