flower poetry

" Artificial flowers! Petunias, these are, and violets,probably. Weeks pass, and they don't fade. I wait for them to droop as in a natural cycle. But they are stubbornly unalive and therefor unwilting, so they must be plastic, with machine- made blues and yellows and whites. Imagine that:plastic-flower sorrow." - C. Baxter-

Variation, Manipulation

She belongs to
a family with hundreds of
species just like her

they exist as:
flowering trees
magnolias
daisies
they are ornamental.
they manipulate
they know how to
engage, disengage
petals, sepals
reach out their
hungry arms.
They fascinate the eyes.
He belongs to a family with thousands of species
just like him
they breathe the same air
they are:
grasses
palms
lilies
onions
bananas
orchids
His leaves are narrow
and long
His veins run next to each other
in parallel paths
They are two lines that never meet.
They run lengthwise.
Her roots are normally woody.
They absorb the nutrients.

They make the connection.

cookbook. love.

Today, I had to explain to my Dad that "No, THE FEAST OF LOVE is not a cookbook!" and "No,
I am not in a weird mood. I just don't feel like swimming!"

But, then maybe I am in a weird mood... I haven't been sleeping (like at all lately). There is no real reason for this...
Perhaps, b/c of these pretend conversations I like to have in my head. Most of the "pretend convos" occur in Paris Cafes. Like that Jim Jarmusch film with the coffee and cigarettes and cafes. And, oh so very French Philosophical conversation.
So, take this JARMUSCH! Ha
SLEEPLESSNESS/ the Reasons

"ANXIETY?"
"Perhaps, I am anxious, tangental, and incoherent"
"Commitment Anxiety."
" I am not irresponsible"
"You are not answering the question."
"Yeah. Yes. Perhaps I am more than a little Fucked up."

Oh, shit. This conversation reads like dialogue from a prententious Indie flick where all the characters "prentend" to have problems to fit in... to be modern or too post-modern or existential or whatever. They do this to "pretend" to feel. They are less lonely in their feeling.
These aren't real conversations.

But, then what's real anyway? what's actual? Oh, k. Now we are getting to the root of the issue.
I need to stop thinking. This pseudo-philosophical dialog is kind of making me feel shit-er. ha, I like the word "shit" a lot. Maybe, because my Dad once told me that "shit" is not a feminine word."
He said,
"Pretty little Asian Girls should not be using such words."
I said,
"Why not?" (I wanted to say, "Why the fuck not?")
A:
"Boys don't like girls who sound like Futbol players."
My A:
"What if in a past life I was a Futbol player?"
He said:
"Just do as your told..."
My A:
"Si, papa."
A:
"Oh, don't get cute with me"
I made him Beso. I gave myself a pat on the back. Good, Girl! bravo!

....
So, I am done being crazy.
"When you pour your first cup of coffee of the day, if you're feeling crummy, put a dab of ice cream into it. It's festive. Then you gotta trudge off like everyone else, like I said, but you got the ice cream with you. Forget art. Put your trust in Ice-cream."

Or, this one about meteors:
" Because it was august or because it was time for them to die. The meteors were all suicidal. They were bored with space, he said, looking up toward the night sky. They were burning themselves in the atmosphere. A meteor deathfest. It was romantic, the way the trees were romantic..."

Speaking of ROMANTIC.
I had a conversation about first loves today.
"First loves never die..."
"... because, they evolve."
"I wish they'd evolve quickly."
"I hate my first love"
"That's not the worst thing that can happen to love. It can change into indifference."
"First love's name will always be on the tip of my tongue."
"... I say it when there's no one around. Or, when I examine pour sizes in the magnifying mirror. when I retrace fingerprints, kisses, conversations...."
".... this is when you realize... "
"what?"
"You need to stop pretending?"
"Pretending?"
"That you don't deserve love."
"Is love something you deserve?"
-- BESO--

One for the road... (or in my case the bed, my head is full of these conversations.)
"He made me feel actual."

ACTUAL
def
2 a: existing in act and not merely potentially b: existing in fact or reality <actual and imagined conditions> c: not false or apparent <actual costs>3: existing or occurring at the time : current actual commission of a crime>

What's that playing on the radio? A: "every picture tells a story... "

this reminds me of Lolo
and I don't know why.
maybe, it's the colors, the rain drops,
the leaves.

Anne Frank and First love

I've read her diary. I fell in love with it.

(this means so much)

the caption reads:
"A handout picture of Peter Schiff along with a dedication are shown Monday at the Anne Frank House in The Hague. Anne met Peter at school in 1940 and later, while in hiding in Amsterdam, wrote about how much she missed him. Anne died at Bergen-Belsen and Peter at Auschwitz."

REM! RAGE! PHOTOS BY ASPEN MAYS.

Nightswimming deserves a quiet night.
The photograph on the dashboard,
taken years ago,
turned around backwards so the windshield shows.
Every streetlight reveals the picture in reverse.
Still, it's so much clearer.
I forgot my shirt at the water's edge.
The moon is low tonight.

Nightswimming
deserves a quiet night.
I'm not sure all these people understand.
It's not like years ago,
The fear of getting caught,
of recklessness and water.
They cannot see me naked.
These things, they go away,
replaced by everyday.

the tide is high. Oh! this is reggae!

Today I am all about the positive vibes. I can't get rid of the Marijuana stamp on my right hand from the Xamaca jam-dance fest last night. Oh the universe! Oh I need to stop using such (un)hip lingo.

Xamaca means:
a.The name of Xamaca has given you an appreciation for many beautiful and refined aspects of life--music and art, literature, drama--and the outdoors, where you find much peace and relaxation, but it creates a far too sensitive nature.
b. You rarely experience the tranquility that comes with stability of thinking or emotional control. (OH, this is true of me!)

I am writing about swimming pools again. In my dreams, they are deep, cold and daunting.

I went swimming the other night. (see: REM NightSwimming)
Here's a beginning story(?)

They were there to make laps around the pool. It was 9:30 pm Manila time and they needed a place to (go) disappear. Now, it is 9:35 pm and they have just discovered that people fade (away) in different ways.
Some do it gradually and sink slowly into the water. They make little bubbles when they do this.
They they come up for a breath. They breathe the same way they fade away--slowly and deliberately. Still, others tend to get lost in the water. They do this fearlessly like sperm whales or dolphins who dive effortlessly for fish. They breathe loudly. They explode into the water like gun shots or battering rams. It is almost like the water doesn't see them coming. It is almost as if their bodies--made up of tiny particles w/c are held together by the contrasting differences of light, dark, positive and negative-- they are part of the water. The water is made up of them. They are made up of the water.
There are the others who fade away unwillingly. They act like prisoners to the water like a blaze of fire that was once ferocious and strong but has succumbed to the chemical bonds of those elements-- hydrogen and oxygen. It is almost funny. They think to themselves. (...) how something once life giving like oxygen can cause so much destruction.
This is what happens when the right bonds are made. These complex bonds emit their own form of light, beauty and happiness. They experience their own form of ecstasy.
A list of the faders:
1. the swimmer- S/he knows the basic rules of the water: flotation, buoyancy and movement.
MOVEMENT- The way the water caves into the pressure of th human body, velocity, gravity. It's amazing how many factors go into swimming.
BUOYANCY- In order to swim, you have to float and when submerged you must be able to come up for air. Buoyancy allows for breathing-- the bobbing of the head w/c is kind of like bobbing for apples.
FLOTATION- This is a completely different story. There are methods of flotation: horizontal, vertical, and vertical then horizontal. All methods work the same way. Floating is safe. Diving in is not.

---
The swimmer does her laps around the pool.
1st breast strokes
-30th: 60 back and forth(s) all-in-all
all-in-all
She swims around the pool 3o times. She comes up for air 180 times. She sees things when she comes up for a breath. There are other people making laps around the pool.

what I contain

Chris Marker said: "How do we remember if we don't photograph?"
How do we remember? hmm, yes, like this...
Dad with Camera


Mom listening to Records
Sept. 1976