The world is all topsy turvy this eve of Thursday due to my vacation being over and my having to go back to work today. Also due to the fact that my roommate went out of town and right when she left these killer hugemongous bugs took over my house and now she's not here to kill them. I've been walking around my apartment for the last hour taunting them with Hot Shot roach and ant killer in one hand and a beer in the other. One of these bugs had the nerve to crawl across my foot while I was trying to enjoy The Golden Girls. And another...well, he flew into my underwear drawer. I don't even let MY MOM see my underwear drawer. I am so offended currently.
I have killed two but I am sure they are hiding out under the couch nay in my underpants plotting their next attack. Probably it will happen when I am asleep and I will wake up with a huge sculpture of my things in the middle of the floor, similar to those strange crop field patterns.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Thursday, May 14, 2009
my zip code is awesome and also I heart late-night-letter-writing
Dear The World,
Recently, I moved. It came at a time when life was quite the hectic situation, not that my life is never a hectic situation but in terms of general hecticness the meter is way broken. This leaves me blogging...obvs.
I wish I had pictures or words to describe said hectic situation but I don't cuz my camera is effed up and my words are all slurry due to G&T's but I do however have the ability to write a letter at this current moment and the body of it appears here.
Here is where the rest of those words might go if they were around. And here are some other words I want to say (and am...I think...capable of saying)to several different people who shall remain nameless:
I miss you.
I love you.
I thank you.
I will see you tomorrow.
Until then, may the road rise to meet you, may the wind be always at your back and may God hold you in the palm of Her hand.
Love and Sincerely and All that Jazz (cuz this is where I prepare you for the signature),
Bertha
Recently, I moved. It came at a time when life was quite the hectic situation, not that my life is never a hectic situation but in terms of general hecticness the meter is way broken. This leaves me blogging...obvs.
I wish I had pictures or words to describe said hectic situation but I don't cuz my camera is effed up and my words are all slurry due to G&T's but I do however have the ability to write a letter at this current moment and the body of it appears here.
Here is where the rest of those words might go if they were around. And here are some other words I want to say (and am...I think...capable of saying)to several different people who shall remain nameless:
I miss you.
I love you.
I thank you.
I will see you tomorrow.
Until then, may the road rise to meet you, may the wind be always at your back and may God hold you in the palm of Her hand.
Love and Sincerely and All that Jazz (cuz this is where I prepare you for the signature),
Bertha
Sunday, April 26, 2009
"this is not about me"
i put it in the mailbox
in the dead of night
for fear that someone might witness
the blooming of my adulthood
i'm good at decisions
everyone says so
even my mother
it makes me sad
i like green
and humanity
and human rights
and fairness for my enemies
these things have swayed you
to and fro
back and forth
but you're not good at decisions
i put it in your mailbox
just like she did
(which consequently sickens me to write)
the paper on which i say goodbye
and now you can decide
what is best for a change
in the dead of night
for fear that someone might witness
the blooming of my adulthood
i'm good at decisions
everyone says so
even my mother
it makes me sad
i like green
and humanity
and human rights
and fairness for my enemies
these things have swayed you
to and fro
back and forth
but you're not good at decisions
i put it in your mailbox
just like she did
(which consequently sickens me to write)
the paper on which i say goodbye
and now you can decide
what is best for a change
Friday, April 24, 2009
six
It happened
Last night
In my dreams
I think
At 3
Am
You were there
Next to me
Holding my hand
In between breaths that were so sweet
I could cry
And I did
Reason being
When you’re asleep
There’s not ignorance
No problems interjecting themselves
Into peacefulness
Only simplicity
Comprised of dreams
And fingers
And silent jerks
As you drift in and out of slumber
Drinking slowly from the dreams
That fill your head and your heart
Though I don’t know them
And that’s how I learn about you
this has happened many times
But never like it did last night
As you lay there next to me
I’m consumed by it now
So if it’s alright by you
I’ll continue
to consider
this dream
now
and tomorrow
and the day after that too
Last night
In my dreams
I think
At 3
Am
You were there
Next to me
Holding my hand
In between breaths that were so sweet
I could cry
And I did
Reason being
When you’re asleep
There’s not ignorance
No problems interjecting themselves
Into peacefulness
Only simplicity
Comprised of dreams
And fingers
And silent jerks
As you drift in and out of slumber
Drinking slowly from the dreams
That fill your head and your heart
Though I don’t know them
And that’s how I learn about you
this has happened many times
But never like it did last night
As you lay there next to me
I’m consumed by it now
So if it’s alright by you
I’ll continue
to consider
this dream
now
and tomorrow
and the day after that too
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Hey y'all
Some of you have been sending me messages to the tune of "where did you go?"
or
"what the fuck bertha..how come?"
or
"I miss you...come back!"
Well, for a number of reasons I went on a little Bertha-atus. I've done some soul searching, some getting to know of some really cool people, some losing at life and some winning too, but for now...the explanation is that I guess I'm back! And I've got a lot of poetry and thoughts that need letting out so I hope you guys are ready.
....
Ok, maybe not tonight...I'm real tired. Here's a poem though for your wait.
....
"Five"
One night
Last fall
I got lost in the woods
but I didn’t care
cuz while I was on that journey
in the woodland darkness
I was forming dreams
about You
I think I thought it might have been that lovely night air
As it brushed against my dirty sweat-stained face
and I lay in the grass with leaves in my hair
a sense of calm and wonderment blew over me.
such contentment
there, amongst the dirt and the leaves
alone
in that moment.
every day, alone.
alone. in that moment.
But only now have I grown to know of those dreams
Though I have been craving them
with every ounce of me
my whole life long
or
"what the fuck bertha..how come?"
or
"I miss you...come back!"
Well, for a number of reasons I went on a little Bertha-atus. I've done some soul searching, some getting to know of some really cool people, some losing at life and some winning too, but for now...the explanation is that I guess I'm back! And I've got a lot of poetry and thoughts that need letting out so I hope you guys are ready.
....
Ok, maybe not tonight...I'm real tired. Here's a poem though for your wait.
....
"Five"
One night
Last fall
I got lost in the woods
but I didn’t care
cuz while I was on that journey
in the woodland darkness
I was forming dreams
about You
I think I thought it might have been that lovely night air
As it brushed against my dirty sweat-stained face
and I lay in the grass with leaves in my hair
a sense of calm and wonderment blew over me.
such contentment
there, amongst the dirt and the leaves
alone
in that moment.
every day, alone.
alone. in that moment.
But only now have I grown to know of those dreams
Though I have been craving them
with every ounce of me
my whole life long
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
when is morning?
when it feels not the same as it did
peaceful and found
when before lost and high
and low and exhausted on every bit of
daily matterings
and you loved it
and you love this
everywhere, she is
the smell of her in my clothes
the feel of her touchings
the memory of touch is far more profound
than the event of it
like those damn bath tissue commercials
most entertaining in your mind
with the puppies and the bears that
seal a suggestive sale when you see them on the packaging in the store
reminding you of the lovely feeling you felt when
they appeared on the television screen while you sat next to your lover with her hand up your skirt
so lovely a feeling that you purchase the overpriced consumerist clothe paper
so that you can re-experience that loveliness when really
you will wind up flushing away the expensive paper with you know what
everyone does it
indulgent in our own likings
stroking the hypothalamus of life
searching for an addiction
that nurtures for eternity
it seems odd to keep returning
when it makes not sense
turn off your mind
yes
let us silence the divining rod for experience
this is the only tool we have for protection
following a heart; divulging your soul to any damn stranger
you might meet such a stranger in a coffee shop
on some random Saturday afternoon over newspapers and tales of disaster
and financial ruin
and worries that cross a mind every other asinine second
it is like a fairytale
that is gruesome, grotesque
but yet meant for the minds
of vulnerable children
only to confuse the fuck out of them
when the goal of the tale is to morally educate
with visions of gold and poisoned apples from bitchy witches
and year long naps
and candy houses inhabited by dishonest, hot and sexy magical people
that all makes me feel a strong sense of self and ethicality
and you?
but yet i keep returning
to make not sense
and there
i lose myself for a few minutes here
and a few over there
those are the minutes that make me get lost in the middle of a crowded city
while simultaneously maintaining a smile on my face
a smile that says hello world
i’m happy, so just try and fuck with me
and it does
even though
i’m alone in a bed
being reminded that she’s alone in a bed
and we’re all alone in beds just
writing bullshit as we’re afraid the world is waking soon
peaceful and found
when before lost and high
and low and exhausted on every bit of
daily matterings
and you loved it
and you love this
everywhere, she is
the smell of her in my clothes
the feel of her touchings
the memory of touch is far more profound
than the event of it
like those damn bath tissue commercials
most entertaining in your mind
with the puppies and the bears that
seal a suggestive sale when you see them on the packaging in the store
reminding you of the lovely feeling you felt when
they appeared on the television screen while you sat next to your lover with her hand up your skirt
so lovely a feeling that you purchase the overpriced consumerist clothe paper
so that you can re-experience that loveliness when really
you will wind up flushing away the expensive paper with you know what
everyone does it
indulgent in our own likings
stroking the hypothalamus of life
searching for an addiction
that nurtures for eternity
it seems odd to keep returning
when it makes not sense
turn off your mind
yes
let us silence the divining rod for experience
this is the only tool we have for protection
following a heart; divulging your soul to any damn stranger
you might meet such a stranger in a coffee shop
on some random Saturday afternoon over newspapers and tales of disaster
and financial ruin
and worries that cross a mind every other asinine second
it is like a fairytale
that is gruesome, grotesque
but yet meant for the minds
of vulnerable children
only to confuse the fuck out of them
when the goal of the tale is to morally educate
with visions of gold and poisoned apples from bitchy witches
and year long naps
and candy houses inhabited by dishonest, hot and sexy magical people
that all makes me feel a strong sense of self and ethicality
and you?
but yet i keep returning
to make not sense
and there
i lose myself for a few minutes here
and a few over there
those are the minutes that make me get lost in the middle of a crowded city
while simultaneously maintaining a smile on my face
a smile that says hello world
i’m happy, so just try and fuck with me
and it does
even though
i’m alone in a bed
being reminded that she’s alone in a bed
and we’re all alone in beds just
writing bullshit as we’re afraid the world is waking soon
Thursday, December 04, 2008
1:48 am
fingers that are numbed
by the pain
and the cold wind
and the pressures of a moment
they move
and function
but ironically, you can't feel them
and when they thaw
you remember the pain
of the numbness
and they're sensitive beyond measure
almost immediately sensations
are taken for granted
as if you never ever had the opportunity to
appreciate the hell out of them
this is what makes me human
by the pain
and the cold wind
and the pressures of a moment
they move
and function
but ironically, you can't feel them
and when they thaw
you remember the pain
of the numbness
and they're sensitive beyond measure
almost immediately sensations
are taken for granted
as if you never ever had the opportunity to
appreciate the hell out of them
this is what makes me human
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