Saturday, July 19, 2014
I used to grab my mother's legs out of fear,
I was shy to the world without her near.
I would hide behind the fabric of her pants
& shut out the unknown in a concealed stance.
Friends with lovely soft, sweet faces
looked like threats in strange places.
These fears become heavier with the years,
they evolve to me leaving before there are tears,
leaving before it ends,
before the other comprehends
that I'm just scared.
.Laura Curren.
Timing part II
Timing can make you laugh, but if it's not right, the joke is cruel.
So I was kind of obsessed with the thought of meeting someone in a random place. I found myself looking for somebody in the check out line, the treadmill next to me, my coffee cup. I wanted a moment when someone discovered me-their thoughts were so interrupted by me, this woman who seems so fascinating and surely must be approached because who knows when she'll be around again. The problem with this is that if you are looking for someone to say that, it loses the whole discovery appeal. It might make you pull a Christopher Colombus and say hey this isn't really what I was looking for but I'll take it and even fake it by giving it a label it shouldn't be.
So I felt myself pining and I wanted to shove this feeling down from my searching eyes and keep them looking straight ahead. But I have googly eyes for love. I'm cross eyed for the shit. I cant keep my head on straight when I'm always turning it in somebody else's direction. I know this pulls me away from my own reflection. I know I am a fool for romance...but I admit I like to be fooled by it. It's something to write about. So I just tried to do my thing. And things were done. I went to the gym after working late at night. Single whatever, my ass looks great. So after sweating out some troubles, I went to sit in my own hard earned sweat in the steam room. I went in there but something was wrong. No curling clouds of steam, just stagnant dull air. Actually it smelled like hot ass. So then you came in- ducked in, because you're tall. Oooh hey, nice and tall. And you smile and say "hey, it's not working."
"Oh shit I was wondering!- I thought so...It smells fucking terrible in here."
You laughed and went back out to the hot tub you were originally sitting in. Thanks for getting up to tell me. Then I go sit down in the hot tub to tell you my name. You know my old friend/acquaintance and you're sitting together so this gives me an excuse to talk to you. My old friend is trying to talk to me more. But I want to talk to you. Old friend gets my number. But I want you to get it.
A week or so later I happen to finish my workout again at the same time you do but this time you are by yourself in the hot tub. Normally I would go to the steam room first but I dip in next to you. We talk for awhile amidst jets and relaxing strangers. I can tell you're staying longer to talk to me. I'm turning wrinkly because I like the way our conversation flows. I like those pretty gray green eyes and your tattoos and how tall you are. I like how you answer my questions and seem a little shy but comfortable around me. You seem deep. I like that you lit up a little when you saw me. I saw something dance under those eyelashes. I saw something. So we talked for a little too long. You smoke, I smoke, and we could smoke together so I use this as an excuse to take this conversation to a real place. "I'll give you some if you want," you tell me. I say yeah I'm running low (not really) so we plan to meet up at my car outside. I put on my change of clothes and take my hair down. I try to look pretty. I try to see me as you would. I see you coming towards me at my car. I'm kinda excited for you to see me looking like I do outside of hair thrown up, wearing my mismatched bikini in a hot tub full of wild card characters. A stew of sweaty strangers. I see you walking toward me. So tall! I imagine being scooped up in those arms. Take it easy brain/vagina I say to myself. But my mind has fantasies to enjoy, so be it. So you sit In my car and give me a fun lump of weed and I give you some money and a charming smile.
I say in my best cool casual way, "Well shit man come smoke with me sometime." But I'm not just gonna give you my number. There's a small pause and then you say "Well do you want my number in case you need some weed again?" "In case"-so safe.
I reply confidently, "Yeah. There you go." Then later I text you and thank you for your green sacrifice. We end up texting back and forth for the night. It's cool. I like it. It's easy to talk to each other. I think about hanging out. Then I think about how perfect the timing was. I almost didn't go to the gym because of other plans but those fell through. Those fell through so I fall a little for you. I think how perfect that I happen to finish working out at that time. How perfect that you live in walnut creek and work in Danville near me. What great timing for this moment to happen. A couple days later I have a rare day off and ask what you're doing. Working. Ah man too bad I say because I want a partner in crime to come to Berkeley with me. So I say aw too bad cuz I'm going to Berkeley blah blah something something please think I'm cool and cute. But you never respond to that. Aw fuck then. I let it sit. Stew like strangers in a hot tub.
I see you again a few days later. Well I see you playing basketball from the large glass window in front of the stretching mats/ballerina type bar thing looking down on the court. I throw one leg up on the bar and touch my toes. I lean longer than usual because I'm watching you pretending to be very involved in my stretch and not to watch you. I kind of think you see me. Or saw me and are now pretending not to know that I'm up above testing those hamstrings and secret spying looks. I also think you see me up there because you make a basket and hold onto the hoop dramatically like you own the court. You're currently owning it for me but still, I can't help but think Oh look he's showin off. How cute. But I'm also being a bit of a snob from afar because you never got back to me that last time. So I pretend like I'm not looking. I smile and lean to the side and avert my gaze. I have better things to look at I'm trying to say with my ankle resting up in the air. I don't need to look at you. But if I like something, its hard for me to hold back. A blessing and a curse. The right people love it. So I text you again a little bit afer this passive aggressive exchange that may have only been an exchange in my head.
"Hey you wanna smoke with me?"
No response for a little while. Oh great, oh well, oh this oh that. But! Oh! You do respond. Not just a short response but a well thought out one with proper grammar. I'm enamored. While reading it though, I find it sliding down to a point I didn't want it to go. Can't we go back up? You say you do want to hang out but don't want to give me the wrong impression. You have a girlfriend. You think I'm very attractive, down to earth, and easy to talk to. But you have a girlfriend. You say you didn't mean to be rude and cut me off because you think I'm pretty cool. You think I'm "really hot" and you say you guess you got "a little caught up" and you're sorry. I tell you I think the same of you and I appreciate your honesty. I tell you I'm always down for more friends and sorry if I came off as too aggressive. You tell me you can't lie, the aggressiveness was a turn on. that I threw you off a little. You'd still like to be friends though, and talk at the gym. I don't respond. Maybe another time.
So I was kind of obsessed with the thought of meeting someone in a random place. I found myself looking for somebody in the check out line, the treadmill next to me, my coffee cup. I wanted a moment when someone discovered me-their thoughts were so interrupted by me, this woman who seems so fascinating and surely must be approached because who knows when she'll be around again. The problem with this is that if you are looking for someone to say that, it loses the whole discovery appeal. It might make you pull a Christopher Colombus and say hey this isn't really what I was looking for but I'll take it and even fake it by giving it a label it shouldn't be.
So I felt myself pining and I wanted to shove this feeling down from my searching eyes and keep them looking straight ahead. But I have googly eyes for love. I'm cross eyed for the shit. I cant keep my head on straight when I'm always turning it in somebody else's direction. I know this pulls me away from my own reflection. I know I am a fool for romance...but I admit I like to be fooled by it. It's something to write about. So I just tried to do my thing. And things were done. I went to the gym after working late at night. Single whatever, my ass looks great. So after sweating out some troubles, I went to sit in my own hard earned sweat in the steam room. I went in there but something was wrong. No curling clouds of steam, just stagnant dull air. Actually it smelled like hot ass. So then you came in- ducked in, because you're tall. Oooh hey, nice and tall. And you smile and say "hey, it's not working."
"Oh shit I was wondering!- I thought so...It smells fucking terrible in here."
You laughed and went back out to the hot tub you were originally sitting in. Thanks for getting up to tell me. Then I go sit down in the hot tub to tell you my name. You know my old friend/acquaintance and you're sitting together so this gives me an excuse to talk to you. My old friend is trying to talk to me more. But I want to talk to you. Old friend gets my number. But I want you to get it.
A week or so later I happen to finish my workout again at the same time you do but this time you are by yourself in the hot tub. Normally I would go to the steam room first but I dip in next to you. We talk for awhile amidst jets and relaxing strangers. I can tell you're staying longer to talk to me. I'm turning wrinkly because I like the way our conversation flows. I like those pretty gray green eyes and your tattoos and how tall you are. I like how you answer my questions and seem a little shy but comfortable around me. You seem deep. I like that you lit up a little when you saw me. I saw something dance under those eyelashes. I saw something. So we talked for a little too long. You smoke, I smoke, and we could smoke together so I use this as an excuse to take this conversation to a real place. "I'll give you some if you want," you tell me. I say yeah I'm running low (not really) so we plan to meet up at my car outside. I put on my change of clothes and take my hair down. I try to look pretty. I try to see me as you would. I see you coming towards me at my car. I'm kinda excited for you to see me looking like I do outside of hair thrown up, wearing my mismatched bikini in a hot tub full of wild card characters. A stew of sweaty strangers. I see you walking toward me. So tall! I imagine being scooped up in those arms. Take it easy brain/vagina I say to myself. But my mind has fantasies to enjoy, so be it. So you sit In my car and give me a fun lump of weed and I give you some money and a charming smile.
I say in my best cool casual way, "Well shit man come smoke with me sometime." But I'm not just gonna give you my number. There's a small pause and then you say "Well do you want my number in case you need some weed again?" "In case"-so safe.
I reply confidently, "Yeah. There you go." Then later I text you and thank you for your green sacrifice. We end up texting back and forth for the night. It's cool. I like it. It's easy to talk to each other. I think about hanging out. Then I think about how perfect the timing was. I almost didn't go to the gym because of other plans but those fell through. Those fell through so I fall a little for you. I think how perfect that I happen to finish working out at that time. How perfect that you live in walnut creek and work in Danville near me. What great timing for this moment to happen. A couple days later I have a rare day off and ask what you're doing. Working. Ah man too bad I say because I want a partner in crime to come to Berkeley with me. So I say aw too bad cuz I'm going to Berkeley blah blah something something please think I'm cool and cute. But you never respond to that. Aw fuck then. I let it sit. Stew like strangers in a hot tub.
I see you again a few days later. Well I see you playing basketball from the large glass window in front of the stretching mats/ballerina type bar thing looking down on the court. I throw one leg up on the bar and touch my toes. I lean longer than usual because I'm watching you pretending to be very involved in my stretch and not to watch you. I kind of think you see me. Or saw me and are now pretending not to know that I'm up above testing those hamstrings and secret spying looks. I also think you see me up there because you make a basket and hold onto the hoop dramatically like you own the court. You're currently owning it for me but still, I can't help but think Oh look he's showin off. How cute. But I'm also being a bit of a snob from afar because you never got back to me that last time. So I pretend like I'm not looking. I smile and lean to the side and avert my gaze. I have better things to look at I'm trying to say with my ankle resting up in the air. I don't need to look at you. But if I like something, its hard for me to hold back. A blessing and a curse. The right people love it. So I text you again a little bit afer this passive aggressive exchange that may have only been an exchange in my head.
"Hey you wanna smoke with me?"
No response for a little while. Oh great, oh well, oh this oh that. But! Oh! You do respond. Not just a short response but a well thought out one with proper grammar. I'm enamored. While reading it though, I find it sliding down to a point I didn't want it to go. Can't we go back up? You say you do want to hang out but don't want to give me the wrong impression. You have a girlfriend. You think I'm very attractive, down to earth, and easy to talk to. But you have a girlfriend. You say you didn't mean to be rude and cut me off because you think I'm pretty cool. You think I'm "really hot" and you say you guess you got "a little caught up" and you're sorry. I tell you I think the same of you and I appreciate your honesty. I tell you I'm always down for more friends and sorry if I came off as too aggressive. You tell me you can't lie, the aggressiveness was a turn on. that I threw you off a little. You'd still like to be friends though, and talk at the gym. I don't respond. Maybe another time.
Wednesday, July 9, 2014
8 second poem
dont you wanna
meet me
taste me
date me
taste what i taste
see how i feel about your flavor
see how we mix
how will it taste
what are my tastes
will you try them too
try me with you
meet me
taste me
date me
taste what i taste
see how i feel about your flavor
see how we mix
how will it taste
what are my tastes
will you try them too
try me with you
Friday, June 27, 2014
Monday, June 9, 2014
Personal
I woke up in your pristine bachelor pad
full of grays & blacks & modern furniture & countertops.
Samurai swords on the wall. A pool table.
A big mirror in front of your bed. Fancy flasks & frames.
No dust or dirt to be found. No pets, no stains,
no pictures on a sleek yet huge, metal fridge.
Only your own noise, your own toys.
Let me rephrase that- I woke up because you woke me up
to fuck & it was just that, a fuck. I stopped you.
Put a hand to your groomed chest hair
& said "Slow down," & the moment
& harpooning boner was gone.
You climbed off of me & started to assemble yourself.
Crisp shirt, no wrinkles of course, an important tie
to tie you together, hair just like it was molded last night,
sculpted facial hair that annoys me slightly because of that,
& I'm laying there with wild hair, an opened package,
& I start to open my mouth to say:
"You fuck like...I don't know how else to say this...
but you fuck like...umm..."
"How do I fuck? I'd like to know.." with mild scoffing
& defensive laughing you say this & button up your shirt sleeves.
"I mean don't get me wrong. Last night you did me good...
explicit explicit [insert ego boost] but you fuck like...
like you haven't been in a relationship in awhile."
"Why 'cause it's not sensual?"
"Yeah."
We discuss the past. You've been the booty call for years.
The successful bachelor. I could always tell you were more interested & maybe that's why I ran
& maybe that's why you chased. Too easy & difficult all the same.
You seemed to have been attracting
a string of these types of ladies in the past few years.
You admit "Maybe I just put out that vibe. I don't know."
Then I wonder about the own vibe I put out.
So all over the place. A walking contradiction.
I just want to be sensually fucked.
.Laura Curren.
Saturday, May 31, 2014
I woke up in a tangent
If love and art are somehow fossilized from our culture,
Our planet won't seem to be as much the vulture
Of resources,
Of hate,
Of a spiteful breed,
Wanting not what we need.
But if you have a love for music,
I share it too.
It's for my soul to listen to,
It's what gets me through
Feeling sluggish with routine,
My feelings and what they mean,
For idle nothing and for everything,
Passion in the peaks of sound waves
That I will ride until my mind won't play them anymore,
Until I am only a skeleton of experience,
Until the universe swallows my spirit
And I am spread in the stars,
Until the energy of this life,
Of this being, this entity, this entirety,
explodes with chaotic beauty
With sound that shocks a current state,
And call it fate
But this seeming self destructive
Will actually be constructive
Of a new universe.
An infinite beauty
On and on
It just goes.
We just go on,
And I don't know where we go,
But I know that I will never die
as long as there is a song in my heart
As long as I live and breathe art;
The art of what speaks to my soul,
The art of discovering,
The art of love,
Something never mastered really,
And that's what makes it so profound.
Art and love,
Each more beautiful with each other,
They're never really over,
They're always recycled.
They comes swirling into my galaxy.
They are the spine of my ideals,
They frame my mind.
They speak differently to everyone but are a universal need for our kind.
Our planet won't seem to be as much the vulture
Of resources,
Of hate,
Of a spiteful breed,
Wanting not what we need.
But if you have a love for music,
I share it too.
It's for my soul to listen to,
It's what gets me through
Feeling sluggish with routine,
My feelings and what they mean,
For idle nothing and for everything,
Passion in the peaks of sound waves
That I will ride until my mind won't play them anymore,
Until I am only a skeleton of experience,
Until the universe swallows my spirit
And I am spread in the stars,
Until the energy of this life,
Of this being, this entity, this entirety,
explodes with chaotic beauty
With sound that shocks a current state,
And call it fate
But this seeming self destructive
Will actually be constructive
Of a new universe.
An infinite beauty
On and on
It just goes.
We just go on,
And I don't know where we go,
But I know that I will never die
as long as there is a song in my heart
As long as I live and breathe art;
The art of what speaks to my soul,
The art of discovering,
The art of love,
Something never mastered really,
And that's what makes it so profound.
Art and love,
Each more beautiful with each other,
They're never really over,
They're always recycled.
They comes swirling into my galaxy.
They are the spine of my ideals,
They frame my mind.
They speak differently to everyone but are a universal need for our kind.
Who's to say I'm in not in pain all day
When compared to what's consistent to another person
And how do they know that they hurt less than normal
Or more
When there's no "control" group
To be compared to
Normal was a word crafted
Out of the extraordinary fact that one day someone opened their mouth
And then words came out
And these were spelled to noun-ify things
And eventually, in more detail, to feel things and to sense them too,
To know that they were somehow trapped inside
before this miraculous thing
Became normal.
All I can say really is
Use those letters!
Craft them so well that they become a force greater than a punch through the wall.
Get lost in their possible meanings,
But ask
Please ask what words truly mean to say
And listen even if you don't want to hear it that way.
When compared to what's consistent to another person
And how do they know that they hurt less than normal
Or more
When there's no "control" group
To be compared to
Normal was a word crafted
Out of the extraordinary fact that one day someone opened their mouth
And then words came out
And these were spelled to noun-ify things
And eventually, in more detail, to feel things and to sense them too,
To know that they were somehow trapped inside
before this miraculous thing
Became normal.
All I can say really is
Use those letters!
Craft them so well that they become a force greater than a punch through the wall.
Get lost in their possible meanings,
But ask
Please ask what words truly mean to say
And listen even if you don't want to hear it that way.
Sunday, May 25, 2014
I guess I would be rude too
If I had nothing better to do.
You think as if your attitude doesn't matter.
I can taste your distaste.
I can feel your slap to the face
Just by your tone
And the demands you place.
I am maybe only a small element to your day,
But your negativity affects my work and my play.
It adds weeds to my good deeds
And if your perspective wasn't so flat
Maybe you would see I'm a person and not just that,
One with many feelings and talents,
Trying to find a balance
To my Atmosphere
And the world I create.
It is my own
And knowing what I've known
Makes me smarter and sadder,
But smiling cuz I've grown.
It's hard not to think of things in terms of amounting,
What I amount to,
But let's not count my change until I stop making the same mistakes.
I have trouble sleeping,
Worries I have trouble keeping.
I think too romantically sometimes
And my hopes get trapped in a tower,
Waiting for a prince,
A love to convince
My heart to keep beating the way it does,
Just like that,
Something about the way it sits in MY chest,
Something about me that you want to know the rest,
An answer to a question you would like to guess,
A friend you get to undress,
And rhyme to ,
Climb to
New levels of love with.
There is no limit, only tomorrow
And that's better than yesterday,
Let's keep it so everyday.
So please don't be rude to me
Because I took a little long getting your drink refill and ketchup.
I am more than your appalling attitude.
If I had nothing better to do.
You think as if your attitude doesn't matter.
I can taste your distaste.
I can feel your slap to the face
Just by your tone
And the demands you place.
I am maybe only a small element to your day,
But your negativity affects my work and my play.
It adds weeds to my good deeds
And if your perspective wasn't so flat
Maybe you would see I'm a person and not just that,
One with many feelings and talents,
Trying to find a balance
To my Atmosphere
And the world I create.
It is my own
And knowing what I've known
Makes me smarter and sadder,
But smiling cuz I've grown.
It's hard not to think of things in terms of amounting,
What I amount to,
But let's not count my change until I stop making the same mistakes.
I have trouble sleeping,
Worries I have trouble keeping.
I think too romantically sometimes
And my hopes get trapped in a tower,
Waiting for a prince,
A love to convince
My heart to keep beating the way it does,
Just like that,
Something about the way it sits in MY chest,
Something about me that you want to know the rest,
An answer to a question you would like to guess,
A friend you get to undress,
And rhyme to ,
Climb to
New levels of love with.
There is no limit, only tomorrow
And that's better than yesterday,
Let's keep it so everyday.
So please don't be rude to me
Because I took a little long getting your drink refill and ketchup.
I am more than your appalling attitude.
When I was barely a person
A baby you might say
I never strayed from my mothers side-
Except for this one time
When she was writing a check
And the high pitched panic in her voice
Alerted all the other 80's moms in the department store
That something wasn't right.
They lifted their teased haired heads up
like a Flock of Concerned Seagulls.
They knew something wasn't right
Because where the fuck was I?
I was being collected by some strange lady
Casually steering me out the doors and to the parking lot but
A good strange lady instinctively knew that I didn't belong to this person,
And brought me to my infinitely grateful mother
And I wonder
For a slight and scary second
What my life would be like if I had gone past that parking lot.
A baby you might say
I never strayed from my mothers side-
Except for this one time
When she was writing a check
And the high pitched panic in her voice
Alerted all the other 80's moms in the department store
That something wasn't right.
They lifted their teased haired heads up
like a Flock of Concerned Seagulls.
They knew something wasn't right
Because where the fuck was I?
I was being collected by some strange lady
Casually steering me out the doors and to the parking lot but
A good strange lady instinctively knew that I didn't belong to this person,
And brought me to my infinitely grateful mother
And I wonder
For a slight and scary second
What my life would be like if I had gone past that parking lot.
Saturday, May 17, 2014
Mad
It is easy
to carry a torch
& pitchfork,
easy
to be rigid
& hot with assumptions,
easy as
violent apathy.
Not difficult
to have
fire in your eyes
& angry ammunition.
While you are aiming,
you don't see the arrow in your own chest.
A tidal wave of fuck you
turned to a pool of regret.
Because
talking about it seems soft
although
it's harder to do,
harder because it says there's not just a me but a you,
harder to be vulnerable to pain,
harder to try to understand,
to let go of your weapons of defense in hand.
& I guess
smashing a window is one way to open one,
but it's not the best.
to carry a torch
& pitchfork,
easy
to be rigid
& hot with assumptions,
easy as
violent apathy.
Not difficult
to have
fire in your eyes
& angry ammunition.
While you are aiming,
you don't see the arrow in your own chest.
A tidal wave of fuck you
turned to a pool of regret.
Because
talking about it seems soft
although
it's harder to do,
harder because it says there's not just a me but a you,
harder to be vulnerable to pain,
harder to try to understand,
to let go of your weapons of defense in hand.
& I guess
smashing a window is one way to open one,
but it's not the best.
Friday, May 9, 2014
Reading everything from the past month kind of makes me cringe. I was truly sad though, and I let myself feel everything. Life is getting better & scarier simultaneously. I think I'm just getting the swing of things and then some pebble of plot twist fucks with the spokes in my wheels. I am still excited though.
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