on pain...

I often attach my deepest emotions to pain. My life has been shaped by it, my identity formed in direct opposition to it, and my memories filled with it. For a woman who has accomplished so much, the one thing that has mattered the most, is the thing I believed was the source of my greatest failure: Love. It finally occurred to me that I was always a successful lover, just never been loved. I identify with pain, because in romance... it's all I know.

But like love, pain takes time to grow. To manifest. So you can imagine my surprise that this started that way... he whispered to me, that he was not trying to hurt me. And I said, good, if you could master never hurting me, that'd be perfect. So here we were inches apart... breathing deeply, in sync eyes locked and... it hurt. Hurt. Like I was 16 on a futon with Tupac playin in the background hurt. But he was distant, and I wanted him closer. And slowly, tentatively he pushed. I saw the concern in his eyes and I wanted to say, "baby, pain I can handle." In fact, I've grown to appreciate it... it's the love that's new. But all I could do was shake my head yes.

Oddly enough, it was the most comfortable moment of the weekend. I did not need to think about how to deal with pain. I do that everyday... and in fact, I was aroused by his. And I wanted to experience him in his entirety... especially the pain.

I felt him. He wanted me to SEE him. I was looking. He's one of the most beautiful sights I've ever seen, so this was easy. But in order to truly look at someone... they have to look back at you. Everything you are watching in them they are watching in you. And just as he so desperately wanted me to see him, I wanted him to see me. But every time I've shared myself with someone, every time I've let someone watch my soul... they broke their stare because my eyes were to intense.

Still, here I am painting portraits of him in my mind. His form smoking in front of his kitchen window. His posture relaxed but alert... absorbing a certain understanding of the universe surrounding him. Marveling at his ability to literally hold me together in his sleep. Admiring the way the shape of his eyes change when he talks about his daughter. The amazing disappearing meal, the way he props his head up on his hand when he is really listening to what I have to say. Looking down at his hand entwined with mine while our footsteps and pavement form the background. At one point, as the cross walk warned red, I broke our stride in an effort to rush to the other side. He called for me to come back and kissed me. He said, they can wait for us.

I looked back... and saw him. No stage, no show, just him. I took that moment and bottled it up to take home. Didn't have a purse or pockets so I tucked it in my heart in the midst of all the pain... and somehow, it just fit.

I hope my moments can compete...

this weekend could fit in my pocket. snuggled between four flights, two weekdays and one weekend on a piece of paper folded thrice so it would all fit. i tend to make small things huge, and huge things small. so that bbm he ignored was paramount, when four years of ignorance seemed a trifle. so this time, in 09, i had the chance to do things differently. this weekend, was small. just three days for us, one vacation day for him, four flights for me. it's one line in our story. he gets off of second shift in march, and he'll come to dc. or maybe february 19th will come and he'll decide he doesn't fit here. and he won't come. but that'll be ok, because i'll always have this weekend.

he calls me beautiful. and by dinnertime on friday, after I had gotten out of the shower, he told me i look better without the makeup. i disagreed, but decided not to wear any to dinner. i felt like the most beautiful woman in the room. he always opened the door. he asked if i wanted to go to the show. he watched slumdog millionaire. with me. and that didn't take 4 years. when we looked out the window and gazed at the city lights 17 stories down he whispered, "ya'll don't appreciate us." I said, "who? women don't appreciate men?" he said, "no, ya'll civilians don't appreciate us linemen and journeymen.. look at all them lights we take care of." i laughed one of the many laughs of the weekend. he asked why i liked an average man like him. his voice rattled my trunk. i replied, because you are a man. he says i'm gonna be a big time lawyer and i'm gonna marry a big time ball player or a doctor or a lawyer... not a working man like him.

he said it like he wanted the best for me, but i was from a world too different than his own for him to give it to me himself. saturday i turned away from him i cried while he was watching the 300. not many tears. not really sad. just feeling too much in this small episode of my life. he said i smile at him like his mother does and it makes him blush. i figured it was the least i could do. if i never see him again, i'll always have this weekend. i haven't felt this beautiful or special in a long time, and if it's just for 2 or 3 days that i will, i'll take that. and i'll love it.

when i landed at bwi, i changed his ringtone to "hello." i haven't heard it ring yet but, he texted to see if i landed ok.

a whole month since I posted something new :( Pitiful! This week I will thrust you guys into sensory overload with some of my favorite old pieces and a new project I want ya'll to try!

xx

Jo

liberdad

me:i am working on something very exciting

Ruck: ah...i can feel it!

me: Do you think as a writer, you can write about something completely foreign to you?

and it be good

Ruck: a question first...is anything, topic, experience, emotion foreign?

3:00 PM me: yes yes!

that's what i'm exploring!

if we try to write about these things

will we see more humanity?

3:01 PM Ruck: i think life is interconnected. our knowlege or experiences related to issues, emotions, etc. vary, but i dont think anything is foreign...

3:02 PM i think you should go for it. there are always gradations...explore those and the nuances.

3:03 PM me: yes yes I am I will

I hope I can do it justice

Ruck: you will.

Now I ask you readers... did I?

Tonight we stayed in,
laying in my basement apartment
the sound of the rain
mimicking the footsteps
just above us.
If we listen closely we can hear the wind whisper
sweet nothings into our window panes
the fog makes visibility difficult,
so tonight there is no need to close the curtains.
The light peaking from the bathroom
eclipses the darkness outdoors
just enough to keep the shadows of passersby
dancing across our skin
something about the mood
is warm.
ice chips melt in the salt settled along
my tongue from the heat in the room
the center of my chest shines
from the perspiration not quite intense enough
to form beads.
and just inches away from me
I can feel your thoughts
rising and falling with every breath you take.
when you exhale
i feel the air from your lips
dance across my eyelids
each time you speak,
your voice echoes, booms,
beats...
and a steady baseline
runs down my spine.
Something about the mood,
is warm
like the spot between
your chin and your neck
i kiss you softly there,
lips slightly parted,
moist-
warm.
i feel your fingertips
tapping at my thoughts,
understanding...
gripping them effortlessly
opening your mouth to tell me
you're thinking the same thing
feeding me the last bit of chill in the room
just before it melts
my hair intertwined in your french tips
and you taking the words out of my mouth
slowly,
the texture of your taste buds
grabs each moan, protest, hesitation
and swallows them
digesting any doubts.
I run my finger across your collar bone
admire the richness of your skin
marvel at the bareness of your chest.
as each wall comes down,
i begin to see you take shape
there is beauty in the lithe rotundness of your form
and nervous and excited energy
nibble where there is meat
biting just hard enough
for us to hear the steel
tapping against my teeth.
she speaks...
stand up, i want to see you.
her eyes look through me,
small hands
slide up my legs,
cup my bottom
and peel away the fabric separating us.
I can feel the heat from my pores
warm her palms
she hums across the small of my back
I am ready.
i return with curious hands,
sit her down for questioning...
gently part her point of prayer
and lay my cheek
just on the inside of her thigh
I stop
I want to remember this scent.
I suck my index finger
and slowly beckon her center
I whisper,
I want to make you come.
back arched,
protracted-
one hundred eighty degrees
perfection requires balance
and i find myself nestled equally
between multiple pairs...
Something about the mood,
is warm...

[to be continued]

keep or be kept.

It's crazy how someone can say something and it just sticks. It makes sense, it hits home, it's on point. And not in that general sense (which is always good) but that one line that just makes so many things crystal clear. So, on twitter, Chevy_Pender tweets the block quote below. I copy/paste it. It stays at the top of a word document for a long long time. For one, I can't create poetry on a computer, only edit. So my next pieces will be better now that I have some damn paper. But two, I knew what I wanted to say... the how was proving difficult. So I sort of let instinct have it's way. And this is how it went...

Hate in your heart is like self-imprisonment,

when you let it go, it lets you go...

Some days I wake up confined…
My feelings not my own,
My despair uncontrolled
And you in control of my slumber-
Taunting me.
And every thought in between
The dark colors and stings
Is what would it be like to be free?
Couldn’t fathom just being me
So I’m stuck waking up
Like huh? What the fuck?
When did this begin defining me?
despising me?
Speaking so sweetly-
But having no meaning
And I pause to ask myself-
Who’s really doing the keeping?
When you’re around I’m at my worst
Going to bed, never sleeping
Always crying, never weeping
End up starving from overeating.
Imprisoned by this body
Told when to eat, shit, and think and
I’m too strong to be incarcerated for being weak and
if I just close my eyes I could sleep and
If it’d let me go I could think and-
Not sure of where to place the blame
But my hate for you has driven me insane
When it was in walking distance all along
I could stroll and lose my mind cuz you wrong
If I’m strong enough to find it when you gone
Before you divide it,
Before love and hate collided
And I became my own warden
Too scared to think outside the box
I locked myself into you
Forgetting that Love. Is. Key.
It’s the only ingredient in freedom
And is a dish best served warm,
With sincerity…
Your grip once held tightly to me
It just took another look for me to see
If I opened my arms wide enough for you to fit between,
You’d slip right out of my hands...

and there ain't no holding on to
something you can't grasp...
and no need to question if you cant ask
strength is about how much you can carry
but resilience is about how much you can let go
get free from the get go
love. is. key.

4 play

I used to date a guy...

I only wish I could meet you tomorrow
so we could spend one more dream together...
When my sunshine's inside, put me under the weather
no Robitussin, just robes and tusslin,
tossin and turnin, missin and yearning
call me anything new under the sun...
I've already been done,
been one, it's been fun

...and this is how we'd flirt

Sowy

Ok I've been writing like a mad woman but I've been loving it... and as a writer I have the moments where what I write needs to be released right away- and then some moments where it just ain't ready. Then there's this issue of October. I'm tryin to feature at this spot and some shit I been writing, I don't want to hit anyone's ears until that night!!

Keeping the goodies from you is TORTURE. But I have promised sooo much and not delivered in over a week. I also have contracted Swine Flu in London so that may give you some indication of the hold up but shit... If I must be in bed- let it be with pen in hand.

xx