apon reading kathy acker

**please note, the use of dots is meant to just be empty space but this stupid website won't allow me to do my fancy thought seperating spacing...
------------------------------

if i can accept
colours
and pretty/ugly...................pretty ugly
shapes
.....................THIS IS IT
i can be free.
[to die.
.to live?
.in an undetermined order]

i wouldn't
i couldn't
make a decision
of what to wear to the funeral
{said in a muted low voice that is not my own}

red is the new black
black is everywhere
im not sure
i have the right shoes
to get around in

i get around alright.

i could break the circle
if i made The Choice

only i wouldn't.
......i couldn't.

i could live a Life
of embrace
desire/
no concequence
leave a trail of myself

they leave me battered too
this battle
each blow i bring apon myself.

alliteration is one of Lifes small pleasures.

i have allowed
my toast to go cold.

it is now
bread with melted
peanut butter
at an earlier time
than mine.

he's perched
on his breakfast log,
minds have been swirling
for an hour
or more.

it must get congested
up there
or it's all in order
as straight lines
or circular roads,
a capital idea. [get it. haha]

i'd like to keep this
image/
always.

quote of the day-
i want the world to stop. i want the world to be sad.

and i do. how can all these people i have never/will never met keep moving keep smiling, how can they laugh so loud [nothing is that funny] how can they not cry for this loss. fuck you sun for making pretty patterns in the clouds that look like a painting of gods and cherubs. i prayed to this God character ive heard of on the off chance i did believe, i prayed. but it is the world, it is the universe, this horrible mess of BALANCE that brings good and poorly placed bad to us all.

thank you stevie smith for reminding me we are all waiting to die- or maybe that's what ive just read in to this EVERYTHING.

i am a cliche on my knees in the rain wrenching out my hair screaming WHY NOT ME.

i am hanging on to every word even if it seems i'm not. it is a struggle, i confess, not to withdraw and find myself enthralled by the walls crawling around me or focus on the pattern in nothing on the ground. there it is blurry and safe and near sleep. i feel myself slip away a little and i remind myself to stay for something very worth while and more wonderful than that strange monster shape i can draw out of the walls.
in matthew life is sweet and colourful and feels like the life i should have been living.

more old poems...circa 2007

You said darling take care
this hood and cape won't protect you long
but you look quite tall in red.

You offered fresh cut flowers
I, drawn to the skeleton trees
growing in the lake.

Off the track
I'd see wolves
in soft wool
unravelling
with a glaring bite
and eyes of night
that catch me
long past bed time,
muddying my riding hood.

------------------------------

I remember. I wanted this
Matchstick
Around. Beautiful
cracking bones and
blister touch,
the fanatically restrained
hardly breathing
mostly beating
on their own.

Fire dance in circle
praise at off hours
Sits them silent
and wordy
heads round-a-bout
unrested
above their frame.

Toy wooden ballerinas
pointed to turn,
poised to flame.

in response to andrews musings...

one all i'd reckon
a tie around our veins
desperate for anything
collapsible
or two to me
and your grazed heart.
i hardened some
the times i was passed
to the weekend
a whisper
a habit of yours
to recover from
and much too less
to end with.

you love me best with another by my side.

on waking up haha

Morning meets me
with grizzly undertones,
grey around
my lashes.
A glue I would will
to seal
tightly closed.
Alas, I must go to work.

Take this music with you
I carry you
with each blink
with each breath.
It is not in the words
you give me.
I love you
is not enough, not nearly.
It is in every
living moment.

blast from past collages/poems

while cleaning up my computer i found some fairly disturbing things i put in there...these two crack rants were collages of words and words put together over many hours and when i finished making the collages i realised they were poems and for one of them i'd been sitting there for 6hours cutting up bits of paper.
they dont make any sense but im fairly certain i chose the words for a reason...who knows...disturbing..

this one is just before andrew came home....

The past
Just killed dick
post love
they can’t even look at
something from them as a word
his temper
beaten up
bands with a
kick
until a trip
gone serious
turns
decisions electric
from all
mistakes
that has ever been

Don’t run off

I’ve done pretty good

Don’t worry

Junkie beats getting way to drunk.
Independent,
Hid on purpose.

Way out.

Life becomes
This movement
Looks like it’s been pretty intense
Take a closer look.

You can say battered and bloodied
Lie ever made
Was I delusional
Cute and addictive
At the same time
Absolutely everything.

One stop high
If you walk
Around the world
Chicks
learn you will fit
In.

He’s still traumatized
Even deadly
Giving up before they planned.

This shouldn’t be happening
The very first time
Open about everything
She lives in some horrific violent
Can’t be named
Help with violent
After a failed runaway
Helps run faster
Really is fucked
Someone’s being violent

Overpower
Bathmat
Altered that much?

Girls who commit
Big liars
Aren’t so bad
Making so many mistakes
Was even harder
Trashed
More disturbing
I had some friends
Negative influences
Sleaze
No thanks
Was letting abuse
Was wearing tease
Video star
Gets a bit boring
Reason is unacceptable
Because we realised that they had
A fucking massacre.

Time to meet people we met
Collect faces
Best if I moved to live
SAVE YOURSELF.

===
this was made as the cover of a note book

He
As well as
Smoke
For her part
Says what she
Likes
So it’s a must
Even with
Your best
Twist to
Trench.

Collection really
And as a part of
Life
Evolved
Current icon
Different with
Pleasures of…

Friends have
The most accurate picture of
Strange.
Peace.

He’s introducing
Youthfully cool
Better still
It really crosses lifestyle in these
Window pane checked works
Torsoed
Is the perfect person
To cover both.
It’s the sweet
Showing,
Can hardly wait for
Inspiration
To pretty in.

Precious I was
A tub of fresh.
Some new changes to look out for
‘men are from mars women are from venus’Fur.

It feels real
Is original
Did you just slip into
Ritual?

The fanatically restrained
Move forward
Hard
Every day or night
Classic mostly beat
Versatile and adaptable
Anything you want

I remember
I wanted this
Matchstick
Around beautiful.


(front page)
him back base
say yes.
Trenches trimmed
With beaver.
The runway collection.
Fagotting sticking machine
Dress with wing fur
Present
Too divine
Their unique
Gossip
He says smiling
Jolly good
Life’s little indulgences
Action packed days behind
To counterpoint the season’s lines
Step into the night
Hook and fear
Watch from
Terms
Touching imaginaries
Age of innocence
Aims to ride on this
Vision the perfect
After everything
Fine
Innocence
Fire
Wowing the crow
All fancy
Everything goes attitude
With a lace shell
If I don’t like
Built up confidence
To embracing
Lessness
Fastest.

Following master
Permitted to remain
A bright choice
To kill.
Move forward
To become a true
Accident
Cultural phenomenon
A corner of hoy.
Im charming and someone you
Want to be around
Nothing but this
Less of fame
A face to remember
Leather suspender
Hirt dress is
Everybody
He declares
Bias cut
Shot

Puts 100 percent in to
Being balanced.

Categorisation details, please see
Nothing he says.

you have tried
a wordy game
that leaves me
sinking, vomit on my lips
you are fighting
in a way i understand
in a way
i can not release to you.

---------------------------------
this poem just ruined me like writing hasn't for a long time...
Never Again

Never again will I weep
And wring my hands
And beat my head against the wall
Because
Me nolentem fata trahunt
But
When I have had enough
I will arise
And go unto my Father
And I will say to Him:
Father, I have had enough.

Stevie Smith

you've taken my eyes as truth
eyes that play to be the ocean
that pool in tears
to a muddied puddle.
a sweet child
like you might jump to,
your ankles browned in a leap.

we lay
in some french fim
our bodies snaked
to each other
your skin
that could be mine
tearing in to me///////////////////////////////////incomplete...and horrendous. haha.

i am no where near a good enough writer to describe how beautiful *not a strong enough word* this all is.

something very strange is happening that makes me dizzy and skip rather than walk and when i am still i take very long breaths as if to savour every beautiful part of being alive. i am happy i am happy/i am very fast and loud and if this all drops soon i think i will destroy myself perfectly but right now/i am happy.

he is unlike anyone i could have dreamed for myself.

I admit defeat. I cower at your admission- your heads in a different place - which means YOU DON'T LOVE ME. I could love you forever I think, because I always thought we would be together, when it was right for us. and WE'RE NOT RIGHT. or I'm not. you're in a different place which means THERE'S NO PLACE FOR ME, you wouldn't even fight for me, try for me. I admit defeat and I hate you a million times over because how can I be the best friend I am meant to be to you when my hearts all over the fucking ground in clots of OUR LOST CHILD (and fuck you for never caring that WE had a miscarriage not just me) MY LOST SEXUALITY (i feel like i'm starting over i dont know if im gay or if it was just you and i dont want to deal with that and if i am gay/or not/than everything will now be seen as just a phase) and maybe just fucking maybe OUR LOST FRIENDSHIP.

i love you anyway.

andrew...

you looked so beautiful
untouched
my body wrapped around yours
hoping i could stay
nestled over your right shoulder

with you.

My dear friend,
You take me.
You bring me to asylum
and sew at my edges
with carefully planned words
and a blindfold you carry,
next to your handkerchief.
Used for curving my insight,
a sweet little smile to masquerade in
for a while.


As long as this will hold.


(leave me so I can hate you and forgive you and never decide what is the right choice to make or love me COMPLETE so I can feel there is something more than words between us)

i will listen
between your stutter and pause
i will find reason and i will find
you telling me you love me-
sweeter a tune
than the nightmares
where you cackle towards my candor
i will find myself believing
you could love this.

---------------------------------------

maybe i can convince myself we will be ok.

you don't love me that's why you ignore my messages mixed or otherwise that's why you wont miss when we're gone when this is over you will know you could have had me you had me eating out of your hand leading my head in to stories one of us is making this up or harder the higher we climb i forget how we got here i remember your green tshirt that i might have seen in a photograph and molded you to fill i think this is it. this is all wrong.


------------
i like the fuzzy comfort of the what is the best idea when the best idea is not sleep and a banana to help a chemical inbalance the best idea is dark and words i can only say in my head followed by actions- maybe words i wont think of after sleep. and a banana.

slug of my insides,
my future
slid out of me
on a bed of cotton.
and i know now, loss
and what it truly means to be a woman.
------------------------------------------------

andrew says IT WAS NOT CONFIRMED. the death of a child he never would acknowledge.

i am not here and it HURTS.
every day is a struggle. the funniest part now though, is it's too much of a fucking effort to even say it to anyway.

i am somewhere else.

my writing drought....

i had a dream
you asked for three of my poems,
the ones i once offered
as a seat on a crowded train carriage or
spare change for the methodone at a fitzroy chemist,
i promise
i'll show you all
when i find them.

do you need a footnote to my reason?

andrew and kerith take two. (1)

(1a) no more collecting boys to keep busy though i revel in the experiences i give myself. andrew said i should write them down so i can create this book i say i'll make, but i can't quite bring myself to.
you never know what people might read in to it.

(1b) does he know that i am more likely to leave him for a woman because i still cant handle the idea that i would be with a man for my life? that is not who i am. that is not who i want to be.


people have been asking me a lot lately- although i suppose they are normal, every day questions -'how are you' 'are you okay' and i take my time to think of the answer and i say 'yes i am okay. i am. i actually am today.' which means tonight i might not me, or yesterday i was This close, or tomorrow i will have to wake up and see how i am then. and then i shake a little and my heart goes all tight and i think some more.

piled around my feet
in waste
thigh high in
my choose my own adventure

losing.the.plot
is easy
if i don't pay too much
attention to you.r hands around
my neck,
the way i always wanted.

jade and i fought the way i always have and we never did while we were together and i couldnt help but think, there's your passion kerith. as i was vomiting on her bed in to my hair extensions from being strangled and trying to work out why the hell i punched her in the middle of a club and why i went to her house and why i kissed her as she let me in and why i do this to people poison their minds with violence and til death we part.

how the hell? pan left...

what have you done with your life in five years? i used to measure my life in events that i could map and measure the change through now everything's vague and blurred together with common threads and time is confusing and i feel like i have forgotten a lot of my life. and i feel like there are some things that wont let me forget who i am. what have i done?

drugs, sex, lovelust, betrayal, drugs, sex, betrayal, love, obsession, abuse, isolation, violence, drugs, betrayal, love, isolation, drugs, sex, assault, betrayal, violence, drugs, love, clean, assault, betrayal, sex, lust, and after yesterday-drugs.

but i was getting myself back together. i was pretty sure. a wonderful girfriend, STABLE, caring, perfect, a great house, family, acting, theatre, friends. had it been a few weeks ago i wouldve been so proud to say who i was and where i have been. as it was, i showed up cracked off my head.
more or less eight months with out that feeling, eight months of clarity and the only way i felt that i could face the grown up world was by facing it through smoke. and now i have nothing. i have to start again. i have accomplished NOTHING and all i wanna do is have another fucking pipe and i just might and i just might screw the big grown up plan where I get better and get over this disease/obsession/love/hate that divides me and scares me.
and here i am again. the same place i was last year. aching for it. with one foul swoop i am back in this place.