Inside Out

What if you fall asleep with words and questions jammed in your head like a subway station platform packed with people pushing, they board the train, full and full, car after car, full with words and questions, the doors close you see it coming this train the words and questions jammed in your head like a subway station train, as you go down to that place, that tunnel of sleep, of dark, of teeming life in the night, you see it coming, that light like a light on a subway train, know it’s going to ride inside all night packed with people jammed like words and questions. You sleep knowing it will ride inside. You fall asleep hoping it will leave some trace before morning.

 

What if you wake up with what ifs on your lips, you realize inside, all night, writing has been going on. Fingers on keyboards, hands on pens, chisels on rock, chalk on pavement. You realize your insides are covered with graffiti, some of it so fucking beautiful that you take that hand that comes with a morning’s waking, you take that hand that wrote all night, trace the images that cover your insides, trace them down, feel their breadth, feel their coursing. You weep with some beauty for a time, don’t need to go where it’s not so beautiful, some of it so beautiful you don’t need to look any further. What if you wake up and you realize inside, all night, someone has been painting. You wake up searching for a way to turn yourself inside out, inside out, that’s all, just inside out.

~

RK

~

12~2008 or earlier

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Posted in Graffiti, Les Holt: Journal Entries from the Edge | Tagged , | 2 Comments

Rock & Roll Rushes

Lush, quiet marshes;

We kick up clouds of flight, leave

cows ambivalent.

~

RK

~

07/29/17

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Posted in Gratitude, traveling | Tagged , | Leave a comment

I am

I am a hobo at heart it seems

despite my preference for first-class

or at least all amenities available.

~

I am fed, watered, relaxed in the sun

as the landscape flashes by.

It is a brilliant day in body and in soul.

~

I am listening to old favourites

on my way to meet an old friend

Blessid Union of Souls is crooning Heaven

and I realize how many are with me

here, now, in this, I am

humbled, graced,

by their presence 

their companionship

their shared heart

as we go

riding the rails.

~

RK

~

07/29/17

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And exhausting

Ridiculous. And

ironic. To struggle that

I might stop struggling.

RK

~

7/22/17

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Lear’s Beautiful Boat

I am nearly 13 hours asleep

in this nearly empty place

together with

a sofa and a coffee table adrift.

~

I feel like the poem come alive,

The Owl and The Pussy-cat

out to sea

in a pea-green boat.

~

The thoughts are circling like Big Sky clouds or scavenging birds, I don’t know which or both; this is the move without end, the move unexpected. I drive another round-trip, dead-head run.

~

I return home from home, I don’t know which or both. Last night another meal of take out. I am barely hungry.

I opt instead, tear open a King’s Fortune, break out that slim, bilingue, little slip of paper, madly almost sure it holds the answer. Some deep Tao Te Ching in a short order kitchen.

I am not disappointed.

Never disappointed.

I am one of the luckiest, wealthiest, happiest women in the world:

“You will be having a lot of a fun.”

You know?

~

RK

~

7/16/17

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Wednesday 

~

RK

~

7/12/17

Posted in Start Where You Are | Tagged , | 1 Comment

All the world’s a stage

My mind seems out of sync, you know, like that bit of tape from that scene that was a problem all the way around from the beginning, all the way along until that day you grab the remote hoping for distraction and there it is, the lips are moving and the words are traveling but not in unison. And you don’t know which to follow, the lips or the words, as if it matters. You know? And you flick it off, ashamed that it did matter for a second, albeit an out-of-sync second. My mind seems a bit out of sync, like that, you know? I wonder if that’s how it all starts.

~

RK

~

6/19/17

~

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