Guilty Happy

Two of my best friends are unhappy. Both friends are dear to me for many reasons, one reason in particular though, is that they're also married, and having married couple friends is really nice when you're married. They are both unhappy in their marriages. So unhappy, that both marriages are on the verge of ending. I am so sorry for both of them, but at the same time, I am reaffirmed of my own happy marriage.

The other night I felt so guilty for being happily in love while the people around me are so miserable (medicated, depressed, crying). I felt so guilty that I cried. Fortunately for me though, I had a loving pair of shoulders to shed my tears all over.

I am so lucky, and I never forget it. Ryan is my best friend of all time and we have a really healthy relationship in other marital matters.



We met in person the summer of 2001 - 8 wonderful years ago - and we're still just as happy. Some days I would argue we're even happier than before.



We had a beautiful little wedding. Our wedding day - April 18th of 2004 - is still the best day of my life.

Now, we've got a happy little house, three lovely little kitties, and we make do despite my hesitance to join the real work force (not to say I don't work hard, I do, but we'd probably be a bit better well off if I hadn't gone to school and stayed at the hotel).



It's not just that these two friends of mine are going through difficult times with their spouses (really difficult), but also that some of my single friends are... well... single.

I love my girl friends at graduate school, but they go on about things that I don't find myself fully empathizing with; like swooning over professors. Now, I can swoon, but most of the time I just end up thinking about my boyo.

Is it weird to have a crush on your husband? I just can't help it. Sometimes he makes me giddy like a little girl.



He makes me giddy and happy. He can always make me better. The times I've broken down into tears over stupid little life things are innumerable, but so are the number of times he's been there to lift me back up and make sense of the world again. I know I'd be okay without him, but I am so happy and so lucky not to have to worry about that sort of scenario that my two married friends are facing at the moment.



Ryan is my best friend. He's also my lover. He's kind, generous, dedicated, loyal, sweet, caring... all the things you want your life partner to be. I couldn't be more lucky. I couldn't be more grateful.



Part of what makes us work so well together, though, is how much we share. We share interests, tastes, desires and senses of humor. But most of all we share our time. We plan together and arrange together and talk everything through. We're honest to one another. People who know Ryan and I know that if you tell me something, Ryan is going to find out about it in a short amount of time and visa verse. We talk. We even talk when we don't have anything to talk about (which, erm, if you know Ryan is almost never).

I thought it was simple to talk all the time. It seems not though, as not talking and not being honest seem to be the root of other people's marital problems.



So while my girlfriends are suffering, I am curled up on one of the twin red sofas with my amazing husband watching a scary movie and sharing a soda. He drinks diet soda because he feels bad having regular soda in the house while I'm in an effort to stay fit. My girlfriends are giving themselves up, while someone is giving up things for me. I guess that's another aspect of why we work so well together, because we're willing to make little sacrifices for one another. Hell, Ryan moved to another country half way round the world to live with me... if that isn't sacrifice I couldn't tell you what is.



I am happy. I feel bad about it sometimes. Nights like tonight are difficult, having to hold my friend as she weeps over her husband's most recent decision while my handsome, amazing husband is sat just a few feet away, concerned as much for how I might feel then as anything else in the world. How could I not feel happy to have someone like that in my life?

Ryan is behind my every smile, and even though I feel guilty for being so lucky, I won't refuse a smile. Not from him.

i (don't) wanna ...

mis amigas con blogos have both done a list of i wanna and i don't wanna, so i'm copying them. is my blog turning into a blog blog? oh dear. i need to write some poetries after this post.

i wanna...

i wanna learn how to play the drums
i wanna finish a complete draft of my thesis before i leave for japan
i wanna have a good time at my boyo's bday dinner party tonight
i wanna go over jill's house next weekend for a double date
i wanna go dress shopping
i wanna my bras to fit (sorry for the improper grammary here, parallelism comes first)
i wanna be able to stomach Audition
i wanna cut my hair
i wanna get ryan's hair cut before japan
i wanna take a nap today
i wanna re watch Dark City to wash the taste of Knowing out

i don't wanna...

i don't wanna eat carrots all day
i don't wanna write BWE tonight, and probably won't
i don't wanna apply for real life jobs or go on interviews
i don't wanna read boring articles for science class, can we read about sheep instead?
i don't wanna answer my phone anymore
i don't wanna get stuck on the other end of a crying wife and not know what to say
i don't wanna know what the millitary are going to do with him
i don't wanna call this grad student who wants me to proofread her thesis
i don't wanna check my email
i don't wanna join a gym

1826

someone there is taking a picture.

Cupcake Contest Winners

Winners of the Cupcake Decorating Contest: Taylor and Josh's Shark Attack Scene



First Runner Up: Liz's Tree of CupLife



Second Runner Up: Taylor's Cookie Monster w/ cookie



Best Cupcake Collage: Cookie Monster with Blue Shirt & Oscar the Grouch with Boobs



Most Contrversial Cupcake: TIE: (back of photo) Ryan's Birth and (front of photo) Jill's Failed Attempt at Mickey Mouse (a.k.a. Black Face)



Judge's Favorites: Shark Attack (winner), Tree of CupLife (1st Runner Up), and SpongeBob





BONUS: I took over 200 pictures last night, and a lot of them were fuzzy. Here's just one of many fuzzy photos of all the cupcakes together ^_^

Cupcake Faces

how to tell whether or not you had a good cupcake party: by the mess!

Ryan and I have lots of friends born in the month of March. Instead of trying to keep track and get involved with lots of different party situations involving cakes and presents and cards and all the like, we decided to throw a big bash for all the birthday kids. The theme of the party was cupcake decorating, and it turned out brilliant. You can tell just how awesome it was by how neat and pretty the table looked before anyone started decorating:



and after.



The overall results, though, were soooooo worth the clean up effort (which was made easy by the disposable table cloth under all the mess and a few of my cupcake creating friends who helped tidy up).

Blue Shirt - a poem

for Kim Michelle Coakley

i let the music play loud through my headphones
let the sound of the world dissipate in the wake
of a drummer
- his base pedal at the base of my spine -
of a singer
- his voice echoes in a dome -
and fall asleep to dream only to rise
to wake
- with a cat on my stomach -
from some sugar induced hangover
and all i can see when i open my eyes
is the cat on my stomach
and a man standing beside me
and all i can see when i close my eyes
is the blue shirt he wares.

me and "blue shirt"

cupcake party hangover

the cupcake decorating contest was fabulous! i will post more pictures tomorrow... and by tomorrow i mean later today. it's really 1:30 in the morning already!?

so beautiful

half asleep - she felt his lips between her shoulder blades -
and letting out a sigh - fixing for a morning stretch
fit for arms to wrap around and hold the pose -
counting up the daybreak minutes and grouping them
in separate sections for seductive reasoning and warm
breath on her neck shadowed in creased linen
behind laxidasical blinds over open windows -
cool air and his warm breath turning towards her breast
'you're so' he said - somewhere amidst a kiss and hummed -
he curled around the rest of the morning only to miss
the last bus back to the city so he had to call his wife

1st Annual Cupcake Decorating Contest - THE MENU

i have recently discovered that March is a very popular birthday month. eight friends ryan and i have made in the past year or so all seem to have been born in march.



so, instead of celebrating so many individual birthdays, i decided to throw one big h○○rah. the theme, CUPCAKES! in fact, it's a cupcake decorating contest. naturally, not just any cupcakes will do. so i've been searching foodgawker to find the best recipes for cupcakes, and here they are:

1. Chocolate Cupcakes and Chocolate Frosting



the cupcakes and frosting recipes are from Lovin' From the Oven. and although they look absolutely divine as Kim intended... i'm adding Kelly's Creme Filling to really make these chocolate cupcakes stand out!

2. Chocolate Chip Cupcakes and Cookie Dough Frosting

A Good Appetite has a great, simple recipe for chocolate chip cupcakes. i've made them once already, and upon ryan's request i'll be omitting the cinnamon this time.

the frosting comes from HELLO!BAKER and is truly amazing to taste. i recommend it highly.

the combination of these two came out perfect when i made them last time.

3. Lemon Cupcakes and Butter Cream Frosting

am going lazy on these, because the lemon cake from the box is actually really really nice. as for frosting, i'll be making lots of HELLO!BAKER's butter cream and probably dying it lots of different colors for decorators to chose from ^_^

obviously, the three kinds of cupcakes and three frosting's will be mixed and matched for the competition, but these are my favorite partnering of flavors.

i can't wait!!

UPDATE: what do you think of rainbow colored lemon cupcakes!?

This - By John Bell

sweet John Bell stole my idea to write poems for people who've donated a title. i gave John "this" and he gave me "this" in return ^_^ love it.


This
for Katy Acheson

Midnight melody and a dash of blue
is my modest request.

I want to see the fireflies cavort
with Niagara Falls,

and have a rave party at the lighthouse,
which signals passing ships

in a cerulean bath. So that’s a bit
more than a dash, I know.

Just give me a melody to build on.
I’ll provide the blue.

early childhood - ekphrasis 13

for my deceased dryer



she wants to know his life history
to make sense of his misery and overt honesty

to understand him like an alternate past to her own
so she asked him to share his first memory

howl - ekphrasis 12

one for the dog



inspired by what they thought they new
of hemmingway's stories of bullfights

with big dinners after the races alongside
women in bright colored dresses and dark make up

they strode into town too early for dinner
too late for a siesta beer and too rich

for the afternoon to pass by without trouble
to start with the first and vibrate

through the rest of the arm
when it hit the dim server on the jaw

wrecked his night and his face
he joined the drunk tourists on their rampage.

the long way (reposted)

this poem was published in the onion union, which seems no longer to exsist. so i've rummaged through my old files and found it for repost here. because this is my favorite poem that i've ever written, i wanted to share it with you all again.

the long way

we were lying down the long way
when the tides shifted in the cove

clipper ships swiveled and capsized
in the wake of a realistic day dream

or the juice of a plum that we shared
with the natives on fortified beaches

your sun-burnt stomach turned brown
under the orange moon of august

rising and falling like birds on loose cords
spanning mediocre highways in rural towns

and growing like a nest of twigs
our bodies absorbed the marshland salts

taking each seed home in separate pouches
that we traded for rifles and fishing hooks


special thanks to Marcus McCann for helping me retrieve this poem!

dear dryer

dear clothes dryer, why don't you dry?

the act of being fruit (reposted)

i wrote this poem in the spring of 2006. i took the most of it down when it got picked up for publication in the online a'pos'tro'phe, which has been erased from existence. so, here's the full act of being fruit. enjoy.



a slight cherry condition
looming over the mango prophecy

the apple storm surging
starving the grape wrath

my cranberry vision
interrupted by a peach

the weather on this island
insufferable fruit bearing trees

never before a coconut
nor a lemon had fallen

now my pomegranate soaked lips
search through the woods

for the act of being a fruit
has only temporary value.

girl friends (finale)

grad school girl friends



this is the final part of an epic, 3-part post. this post all came about because of the girls in this section. particularly jenni and nicole.

beth, sam and katey allen fall into this category too. and because this is a special category i feel i should also mention kate powers, ezinne and ling.



this group of women in my life (all inclusive) is the most unique and possibly the least mixable. they have mixed. particularly jenni and nicole. i think they have the potential to mix even more in fact, were it not for the fact that i love an hour away from where their lives happen.

this group of women for me, are most like me right now. yet, they are overall the least... accessible.

it's a complex and odd sort of relationship that i have with all of them. we work together, and sometimes it feels as though that's it. other times it's so much more. i laugh the most because of these women. that is without a doubt the truth right now. they make me so happy. simultaneously, they are the root of some sadness.

this sadness started with kate. kate was my best friend for 15 weeks. it was as if we dated and later broke up. the break up didn't happen fast, but i watched it happen. i watched he grow away from me. i've lost kate now. but we had many a lovely time complaining together at the underground cafe over hot earl grey.

it feels good to admit that it's over.

but the loss of kate leaves a blackspot in my mind... what if i lose them all?

i don't want to lose jenni. i don't want to lose nicole.

as much as i adore beth, as much as i am interested in sam, as much as i respect and enjoy katey's company... it's jenni and nicole i worry about, which is really odd.

i never thought i'd like either of them. there, i said it. not in the way i do now.

and now that i'm here, talking about them and thinking about them, i'm not sure where i want to go next... in this post i mean, even though they were the start of it all... this need to taxonomize my girl friends.

i guess... there it is. the girl friends of katy acheson.

and that's just the graduate students from grad school, i haven't mentioned yet liz pantani, kerry pepka, nicole mclernon or kristen t.w.. all of whom i consider my friends. girl friends even.

nor does this entire tirade mention the girls i've befriended online or through the twin peaks fest. for another day.

girl friends (part 2)

where did i leave off? college girl friends ...
so what happened after college... marriage, of course.

so the next taxonomy of girl friends is wifey girlfriends

when ryan and i got married, we didn't have any married couple friends. ryan had just moved and didn't have many friends here at all in fact. we didn't even have that much of a mutual friends group. i was friends with all his friends and vise verse, but for the most part they were either mine or his.

but over time, through work and dreadcentral.com, we made some couple friends. in this group we have, most notably, Debbie the wife of Josh and Michelle the wife of a different Josh. There is also Debbie the wife of Steve and the rest of the dread central crew who are all fabulous people.

these women mix.



well, michelle mostly mixes as long as she's not at war with her stomach. aside from the ability to mix, michelle is one of my dearest friends. we share similar dissimilarities. i mean, we're compatible. we both appreciate certain aspects of life and love and vinyl collectors toys but in our own unique ways. i think she is the most like ryan as any women i've ever known. except ryan never gets mad at me, and michelle gets mad at josh lots. but i guess i'm not josh, even though josh and i are sort of similar in our need for constant huggings.

so the wifey girl friends isn't that big of a section... but there's some overlap with the next section, which we'll call girl friends by proxy. by proxy meaning nothing more than by close location (they all live on the cape, well, almost all). this group ranges... in fact maybe i should put them into subgroups...

(this is where things get confusing...)

1. girl friends with boyfriends



erin van pelt is my friend because matt is friends with jared who's friends with ryan through eb games
nikki baldwin is my friend because she's friends with alex who i work with
liz is jared's (see erin above) wife. we met when her and jared were just engaged. we hit it off, to say the least.

2. liz's girl friends
erin van pelt falls here again
deanna
sian
taylor (girlfriend to another josh)

3. girl friends from my part time jobs:
kristen, jill and melissa from the pizza place (nikki baldwin could also go here)
ashley and erin/buttercup from the polar cave

all these girlrs mix because i got to know all of them in the mix. these are the girls that become part of ryan and my group of mutual friends. they're the ones i call in the summer at 11pm after scooping ice cream for 6 hours to see if they want to go swimming in the lake across the street. these are the girls i go out for cupcakes with or bring home with me after work to help decorate cupcakes. they're my doctor who watching cuddle buddies.



these girls, especially those liz brought to me, are all generous and lovely and close... they're here. and hopefully they know they're always welcome.

for me, these girls are easy to be friends with because they are here, because they feel comfortable in my home and hopefully they always feel welcome.

girl friends (a traditional blog entry)

i have lots of girl friends. i love them all distinctly and individually, as well as in specific groupings. certain girl friends don't mix with other girl friends, others do.

let's start with high school girl friends.

even though she's my sister, i still count meaghan in this group along with danielle and lauren. these three mix with all other groups because they are all more like sisters than like friends. i have come to the realization that keeping friends (real friends, not facebook friends) from high school is a normal rarity.

what i mean by normal rarity is that it is normal to keep a few rare friends from high school. most people i talk to who have been out of high school for several years and, for the most part, have moved away from their high school home town, only keep in touch with a select few girl friends from school.

danielle and lauren were the only high school girl friends i invited to my wedding.

meaghan, my sister. she's beautiful and i love her and i like her more and more as the years go by.

danielle, my surrogate sister. we've been living somewhat parallel lives with the exception of my being married. we both went to school, both made lots of new wonderful friends and grew, both took some time off before grad school, are both still on the cape and watching sci fi television shows. danielle mixes in with all of my friends like a sister.



lauren, lauren is that person for me who i can not talk to for over a year and then when we get on the phone it's as though mere days have passed by. we just click. ryan's like this with his best man adam. lauren and i were buddies, we always have been, and i think we always will be. we're soul mates in that respect.

then there are college girl friends.



mary k, bunny, dina and rachel are my life time loves. i will travel to see them. i am close, still with plenty of other girls from umass, like andrea, maya, rachel lewis and shannon, but i could have listed all the girls from high school who i still talk to too.

mary, bunny, dina and rachel. i lived with them, i saw them find their way, loose their way, and i'm watching them grow into adulthood through marriage and careers now. they too watched me through the myriad shifts in those three years we lived together. They were with me when i got engaged and married to ryan. they watched me grow, struggle, fight and learn. they know exactly who I am because they've seen every part of me.

for the most part, they mix. but, all on my own part, i don't mix them with others because i enjoy being an entire katy when they're around. they are all the female equivalents to me as ryan is my male equal. i never pretend with them. if i am in a bad mood, i never have to apologise for it. ever.

big fish, blue fish - ekphrasis 11

for Adam Burnett



sharks are hungry creatures
when kept in small pools

in basements with sings posted
that read: Do Not Enter




post script: dear adam, i have been thinking about this cartoon for days. three to be exact. i must look like a complete creep because as i walk to my car, for example, i'll smile at myself because this cartoon is funny. i have been trying to think of a poem to go along with it. it's been harder than i ever thought because i keep getting side-tracked by the humor and imagining this actually happening. i am still afraid of babies. affectionately, katy

am reading things at moria

(don't need twitter, have a blog)

top poem with crackling

How Every Angle Blends Together by Kevin Drucas

Jack Status Report

jack seems to be doing really well tonight. i took him to the vet this morning for more fluids and another dose of stomach medicine. when we got home, he went straight for his food bowl.

ryan came home at lunch and fed jack some wet gooey kitty food with his usual medicine (for his upi eye) mixed in and he ate that all up.

as of now, he's not thrown up all day. i've not seen him have any water yet, but at least he's eating (that's a big deal).

i will keep you posted. assume no news is good news ^_^

local paper boy - ekphrasis 10

for Rowan Harris



as he fell from the sky scraper
pistol in hand, he punctured a whole
in the side of my stomach
which bleed until my heart
no longer beat
for anyone
but him

Cool is the Way

a poem for Kelly

we melt into the archetype
of homemade nostalgia

of gooey centers
and chocolaty pomp adores

in the kitchens of finer forms
the aroma takes him over

over the boundless scape
red with heavy desire

towards the grinding halt
that life makes us

when we come face to face
with a woman who bakes

dark sky's an undertow - ekphrasis 9

for Rowan Harris



the steep dish sides of a holding cell
waiting the breath for gluey bile

our secret city under constant watching
some tremor caused by urchins and flirts

listed on the sides of milk cartons
remind us of our green grass gardens

yonder the wondering corn meal cookies
we shared at the wedding in Wyoming

where there, there is no water to speak of
we made juice out of trees and rain

and sucked our thumbs as we dreamed
about such cities as this one

Jack Shouldn't Swallow Stuff

I brought Jack to the vet this morning because he's been throwing up all over the past two nights.

The vet says he seems fine, but he's to stay there all day so they can give him a dose of fluids under his skin before coming home at 4pm.



Ryan says he saw Jack swallow something on Saturday night. The vet reported seeing nothing on Jack's xray and is going to go on what Ryan saw and give Jack some medicine to line his stomach and stop him from throwing up as much. Also, Jack can't eat anything until this time tomorrow, so all the kitties will have to go without noms for the night. I'll make sure to give Rowdy and Alli a can of wet food to share before Jackie comes home so no one's too hungry unnecessarily.

Poor baby Jack.

Sang Fézi

counting time on yellow cabs - ekphrasis 8

for Sam Giffin



time can be counted on yellow cabs
and homeless men with dogs outside grocers' shops

my emotions are filed
under streets without names

and miracles happen in the fashion district
when little men find smaller women

fear revisited

we were up at 4am
because jack was throwing up
blood and slime on the tan carpet

today he sleeps sound
on top of a strawberry shortcake blanket
on the computer desk

he'll drink water from a bottle cap
taking small sensitive sips
before curling back into sleep

rumored - ekphrasis 7

for Jenni Baker

to see image click here

rumor has it that Charles is cracked.

the rumor first started when Ben heard from Sue
that Charles wouldn't sleep with her.

Ben told Janet.

Janet assumed it was because he didn't like Sue,
but to make Sue feel better, Janet told Sue she thought

it was because there must be something
terribly wrong with him.

simple glory - ekphrasis 6

for Beth Ayer



the oatmeal got cold this morning
sitting in the yellow chair

that by the stairs such an effect
as weather would procure on Sundays

memorable dates and clusters of
white laundry in corners hidden

from birds and bowls of sweets
with fashioned covers like lips

painted pink and pursed and kissed
until all the candy is gone

the wet mop bucket by the table
treater of song to dump the words

a poor man's wedding night to
the simple glory of a terrible storm.

noah rises again

Noah Eli Gordon in H_NGM_N

Noah Eli Godron was the TA who taught me that I didn't actually know what poetry was, and I blame him for many of my poetressings. I know "poetressings" isn't an actual word, but it says what I mean better than any real word.

Go read some of his pretty words.

bankrupt

the fingers are dry, the skin cracking

a play list of songs on going on the tongue
of the girl alongside me, i trade positions

and play her a song of my own to let
my fingers bleed on the strings and strands

when the brushed grain's oil dried to a crack
to match the fingers that caress the body

a fine piece of architecture in my lap
and a cat at my feet to her who cried

until the bed was wet with all the sad
songs we shared on this cold and dry morning

catch - ekphrasis 5

for Beth Ayer



waking up late this morning
meant a missed chance
at over-coffee flirting
with the fit girl from apartment 12

her sneakers are bright white
and well worn and i wonder
how does she keep them so clean
in such a shitty city

more than it seems - ekphrasis 4

for Brian Boutwell



hey!

you there!!

his tie flapped over his shoulder as he ran -
trying to catch the girl in the fitted dress

his french was poor - but he did his best to explain
how he'd ended up with her purse

she scowled at him - a white smudge on a black day.
her father died earlier - the tears still stung her face

he offered to buy her a coffee or tea - whichever -
he offered to impress himself upon her - make her forget

but she refused - took back her purse and cried
falling into the arms of the stranger who stole her purse.

flesh and blood - ekphrasis 3

for Nicole McLernon



she rose to the rhythm
of a gaining mist and weed

the trudge and trickle
down the back of her neck

the growing spine of a rose
bushed and thorned and beautiful

beside her - cupid's arrow struck -
a poor boy without a beard

between two white sheets his breath
heavy with the burden of bones

a man to become all flesh and blood
to the woman who feeds on light

he sleeps with a rose, a thorn
and the morning dew

like a weeping girl is all
a man could wish to comfort

stories - ekphrasis 3

for Ashraf Osman



dear friend, my feet are bare
and my fears are real. there's a war
in the distance, they destroyed the moon.

dear friend, there is a song,
sung by the warriors of plentiful nations,
about the sun that once shone.

dear friend, my feet are cold
and the sun is just a myth. but
we are true, you and i, to one another.

my dear friend, how i love the world
with you by my side, sun or no sun now
the scent of blossoms is a happy memory.

my dear sweet friend, let's carry on
caring and working and writing. or else
children might not remember the stories.

not so good at being bad

i'm not so good
it turns out

i'm not so good at being bad
so it turns out

putting it off
i'm not as pretty when i cry

not as well loved either

and this pitiful expression
in words and small graces

is unbecoming.

so i do it well, do it all
and hide my tears from everyone

except the cats.

to be like a cup is, at peace and beautiful

i would like to be like a cup is,
at peace and beautiful and full of itself

i'm covered in the shed hair of cats
that love me and purr when i stroke them

but the stray orange hair in my tea
makes the cup more like me than i'd like

we are too similar for me to want to be
like the cup filled with tea, hot and bitter

i would not like to be the tea, but the milk
perhaps, that gives the tea a mild natured way

to think of the world in meals and tropes
and i would like to be free from poetry

all the poetry that is better than mine,
and all the poets, better at reading it out

in front of small crowds of wine drinkers
at local bookshops that wave the flag

of denial in the face of a dying way of living
like students with pocket money left over

from dinner last night because the girl they wanted
didn't want to go home with them, with him

i do not want to be like him, i want to be like her
strong willed and pretty and dressed

with small shoes and a book under her pillow
innocent and longing for true love

i don't want to be too pretty, just the right length
like a song in a movie that plays over kissing

the part where the perfect girl
is wearing the perfect dress and sipping

the perfect tea over the perfect conversation
with the perfect college boy

who reads poetry perfectly and then kisses her
when she least expects it

so that finally, she can taste love
without thinking too much about it before it happens

a perfect, pretty couplet
at the end of a perfectly written song.

Leon - a drabble

“Leon, do you love me?”

His feet felt like roots, like bricks in the pavement. He couldn’t move. What could he do? What could he say? How in the world could he answer a question like that?

“Leon?”

He looked her in the eyes, those big beautiful eyes. She looked at him with those eyes when she sang. The lyrics hurt with love: “it’s like running through deep water, trying to look into your eyes”.

Her eyes were soft and wet, threatening to tear over.

So he said nothing. He looked at her, in her eyes.

And he kissed her.

you're not who we thought you were - ekphrasis 2

for jenni baker



we're not who you thought
when you pulled the last petal

tore the breath from our breast
the beating hearts of coffee mugs

a pretty thing in a vintage dress
and the heady fragrance of spies

on the veranda, a breakthrough,
i think i'll love you anyway

the ekphrasis project

Give Me a Title, I'll Give You a Poem was a successful little project resulting in 27 original poems. each poem was written for the person who provided the title, and with the title the dedicated donated, naturally.

this is the squeal. give me i'll give you round 2

and here's how it's different: ekphrasis.

ekphrasis has many applications in the arts, and you can spend lots of time with wikipedia trudging through un-sited greekology. basically though, it's when one artists (be it writer, sculptor, singer, poet, bard, watercolorist, photographter, etc) attempts to capture the spirit of a piece of art from a medium other than their own in an original piece (in their own medium).

here's an example of some ekphrasis i've done

i love inspiration, so here's where you fit into the ekphrasis project: link me to a drawing or photograph online and i will write a poem to go with the visual.

if the picture or drawing has a title, i will use that first. if there's no title, you may create one, just like last time.

i will probably do one poem a day (not as swift a turn over as last time), but send me your images as soon as you can/want.

ekphras away!

by the bird - ekphrasis 1

for john bell



an economy of star falls
freezing wages on the border

for the nesting patterns of squirrels
troubled with hiding trinkets

from owls and local authorities
with missions and research

into the mortality rate
of douglass furs

baring all fruit
to the goddess of lies

a small bird carves drawings
depicting the true nature

of life in the woods
when the stars go on strike.