here

©CNirvana

i've been told i need to write more.  i've been told i need to shoot more.  i've been told that i need to settle down.  all things i want, i think.  good recommendations and requests from people i value.  the things that i tell myself are the ones i listen to, or so i tell myself.  i'm back to philly for a day and managed to check everything off my to do list.  it was a long one but easily accomplished when i take the time to focus, not get distracted by the other things and do what needs to be done. 


 prioritize, itemize, customize, finalize.


im packed and ready to head to NYC tomorrow.  more fun, adventure, wind, maybe snow. more pictures, frivolity, friends, maybe a show.  even when its cold it still feels like home.  even in the rain so does SF.  and as much as i try to deny it and tell myself i made the right decision, i never should have left DC.  
where will she stop, nobody knows...

burnt

four walls standing steadfast, strong
bricks and mortar filled with girl like wonder
the comfort of the place called home that smells of this curious sweetness

strike a match and watch it burn
not on purpose but purposefully
why should you sleep soundly?
at least you'll still be warm

as the line across the sky pointing in the right direction leads...
but which way does it say?

and when night falls again and the shivering cold sets in, sit in your ashes
and breathe it in
contentment in your self created solitude

foggy windows

when you drive too straight and can't see cleary do you still end up where you should be? foggy passageways through corridors into the downtown escape route. fleeing to that place where the grass is always greener.

sore neck still throbbing from stretching it out for those that aren't me. "i need a hero", she sings. and here I come to save the day as usual. packed and ready to run. away from you and him and her and that guy too.

empty seat in first class waiting for me. sadly stuck between the sleeping walruses, snoring to the sound of my flight of fear. forced to wait, proving the point of it's possibility. "excuse me flight attendant, make this a stiff one". its gonna be a long strange trip.

i lost my heart in San Francisco

©CB

sitting solemnly in one of my favorite places to get lost.  the weather is shit which makes my body hurt.  my mind still swimming from the whirling dreams floating in the rain water.  the sound of the splatters hitting the tin roof where i sleep, helped me to dream of things that wouldn't have found me awake.  waiting for the rain to return so the photographers ideas can come to fruition.  waiting for the rain to come.  waiting...

between the lines

©EMERGENT

"Time to tell me the truth
To burden your mouth for what you say
No pieces of paper in the way
Cause i cant continue pretending to choose
The opposite sides on which we fall
The loving you laters if at all
No right minds could wrong be this many times

My memory is cruel
Im queen of attention to details
Defending intentions if he fails
Until now, he told me her name
It sounded familiar in a way
I could have sworn i'd heard him 

say it ten thousand times
If only i had been listening

Leave unsaid unspoken
Eyes wide shut unopened
You and me
Always between the lines
Between the lines

I thought i thought i was ready to bleed
That we'd move from the shadows on the wall
And stand in the center of it all
Too late two choices to stay or to leave
Mine was so easy to uncover
He'd already left with the other
So i've learned to listen through silence"

--Sarah Baraellis

twinkle

© Vernon Trent

starlight starbright, sparkle and fade into the dark oblivion
overwhelming glow of night 
of distant dreams of summer
and the life well spent
of the girl ill never forget


wading through the bush
heading toward the magic box
full of the kindle that sparks the flames 
of the hottest fire closest to the gapping hole
glitter, burn and fade away

confirmation

©Chris Meredith

"Everything is different now
Don't get on that plane.
Why don't you just stay with me forever"

another day, another airport
another destination, another bed.
she laughs at the monotony of the adventure.

same is different now, some how.  something missing, something big and something oh so small. someday perhaps.

wandering the halls of this port, watching the people.  suits and ties, moms and strollers, wanderers, rushers, day dreamers.  i often wonder what the lives of the other travelera consist of.  making up stories of what I think they might be.  you can't know a person just by looking at them.  assumptions are often wrong and farfetched at best.  those that you do get to know though, really know and connect with are harder to let go of.

saying goodbye has never been easy for me yet somehow i do it almost daily.  letting this person in, reconnecting with that one, sacrificing for the other one. giver, helper, counselor, listener, mom without the baby.   i want everyone to be happy often at the sacrifice of my own.  


karma points...  check please, this one's on me.

hold on to yourself

©Simon Gentry

"I'm so far away from you
Pacing up and down my room"

whirlwind days spent in the city that holds my heart.  one of a select few that i could actually feel settled in given the chance. you feel like home, he says. 

safely in my house, i sit surrounded by my new found kitties getting acclamated to the scent of their new home.  another day, another life changing adventure.  it really only takes a second, a sentence, an eye opening realization to change your future. pay attention or the truth may pass you by.

i spent numerous hours with a woman that has more knowledge, experience, Life in her back pocket than anyone i know. and she is happy.  not like the word that you read in the dictionary but like the idea that you long to experience for at least that one moment because it may be the only one you get.  she has witnessed, counseled and eradicated immense pain and tragedy in her life and the lives of those that she chooses to surround herself with.  it is a choice when you let someone in to your life, she says.  i believe her.  it is more of a punctuation if you allow them to stay.  

the delicate balance of how you fit with him or her is always a challenge, an often endless question.  some combinations are easier than others. some are work, is it really worth it?   the ones that really count cant be explained or defined or let go of.  like two hands holding, things just fit... and sometimes the fingers slip.  but before two, there must be one. 

"You know one day I'll come back and I'd hold on to yourself
To yourself, I'd hold on to yourself"

lesson

© Brian Sullivan

what does tomorrow look like 
when the glassy eyes refract the light?  
beneath the glow of the waning crescent
the other half of my whole


as the door creaks open
the little sliver of darkness sneaks in
reflecting off the brick wall 
bouncing back to ricochet again
a game of racquetball


again here then to there
following with my eyes til they crash
for the third time
maybe its the fourth


learning nothing but seeing
denial in the inevitable 
it will happen again
when the never seems possible
thats when the fun begins

guest

© Mickle Design Werks

invitation extended 
to the special tea party
table set for 4
1,2,3 plus me


want to be bad
need to be good
the tea tastes bitter despite its sweet smell
as the sipping warms, the flavor grows


basking in the glow of the attendees
we participate in the back and forth banter
to know you is to love you, she says

i missed the sunrise again
for fear of leaving the fluff
the happy hole of darkness
satisfying eternally
full or empty


softness suffocates gently 
the blindfolded beauty, escape the revealry
with the sound of silence deafening 

this too shall pass

©Brian Sullivan

bittersweet softness of girl like wonder
contradiction of the nearby other
complications creating curves that 
follow oh so sweetly the taste of taunting


he who wanders through the thickness
mixed with pondered indifference
listening silently to the gentle breath
of her who wishes they'd never met


crisscross circled swirling
swerved into the middle of nowhere
yet again, always and forever


fevered hotness, equally cold
chilled deeply til the burn aches sweetly
twisted pain alleviating the numbness
next time will be better
i promise

old is new

© Ed Campion

dingy basement, full of treasures

stolen memories neatly bound

in dirty boxes, covered in burnt fairytales

cleaning, sorting, sifting

piles of this and those

once forgotten newly found

beneath the layers of old

that which once was

is quite new again

thought lost found

the light trickles in

tickling the dusty remnants of

all thats left behind

wash, rinse, repeat