orgami's Diaryland
Diary
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peice of me
yes its early
the humidifier fan blows
loud but not like the alien
much loved air conditioner
rumble like a space ship
even though in space things
tend to be silent or distant
the blue little lights on
the tree twinkle
Lori snores lightly
the kid is restless before
she settles
i sit in the chair typing
by the screen finding this
remote laptop difficult
the larger machine broken
for now its warm out i went to a meeting and
it was full
a speaker meeting
took my coffee and chair
the one where there are
few near me
real intimacy i fear
sitting next to people
i am not used to
watching show called MOST EVIL
the study of serial killers
sociopaths and psychopaths
studying the study of those
caught and studied
a most interesting show its quiet out there
just before five a.m. up so late
not in bed for work these
two weeks off Dexter will be back on
soon again havent read a newspaper
in ages Globe and Mail
the only one I like and read
since the eighties glad for this holiday
the family somewhat united
again here
my daughter to drive up or
come up with Carolee from
Huntsville Dreaming about that little
apartment we lived in for
that winter her furnished tastes cozy
eclectic
her records of David Bowie
and Roxy Music both favourites
of former girlfreinds and
close freinds the huge four poster wood
waterbed with heater a great
comfort from the chilly homes
of youth her lithe body
the cute features
page boy haircut
square face like Isabella Rosselini the square old mill house
on the hill near the old now gone
sawmill Haunted Huntsville with its
gothic feel the hills brooding
the lakes dark and deep
the river silent and steady
pulling its destiny through
hardwood and dark fir trees
its checkered history
its loved summer season
and old money and estates on
the lakes here I am modern
North Bay
fatter older greyer
with now long hair
growing beard
the mongol ancestry
showing the cheekbones
the weak chin long
nose the brow and eyes
not brown but blue
more mature then ever
more troubled then ever
more haunted
lonely
settled like a sunken
ship still close to the
surface still feel the waves
on stormy nights run
her fingers through my bones medication slowing wild thoughts
highs lows leveled out
Seroquel a beam of hope
ran out once and now sparingly
take them like they may evaporate
more precious then addiction
i hate the dependence the feeling
of weakness of need
of such need sitting here reminds me
of people on the bus working
on their computers
in the middle of nowhere
tapping away on glowing screens here I sit in this chair
this comfortable chair
the people I love
my animals
my work
my art my music waiting for me
while the meds kick in
so I can sleep dreamless
tonight unlike last night I dream even more vividly
then life I abhor sleep
REM is the same brain activity
as being awake
its a science fact faithfully take my anti seizure
meds when the seizures come
it is like cresting a roller
coaster ride in bright sunlight
that feeling of dropping away
the sunshine brilliant and glistening
and then knowing that I will end
up on the floor miss talking in real life to
someone to bounce ideas
work is fine but its safe
not the cafe not about books
about passions maybe Im not listening
enough not ready so I just sit
silent alone sipping my coffee
watching people watching cars
birds the microwave tower
the skys many moods
planes incredibly high going somewhere i have you
you are here reading
commenting this is sufficient
it fills the hunger
of need of others
that still exists
in me my tiny room of empathy i was always hauled out
and made fun of as a kid
or rejected
and after my dad accidentaly
ran over a poor child in a
family running wild that was
that total separation
retreat to books
farley mowat others
and crime books the only
ones about the house
history also
crime with its graphic black
and white photos of mans
inhumanity to man
the almost pornographic
representations
sensational covers my
mother and sister devoured
farley mowat happiness and
sadness and nature and then
intimate brutal outcomes
for a follow up
then came poetry to escape
the madness of all that
first was the classic fairy
tales from eight and nine
also with its charged outcomes
and meanings
with beautiful watercolour
plates from turn of the century
graphic artists
a shelf of stories full of
wonder
gone too now forever No wait Encyclopedia Book of Wonder
nineteen fifties edition
with Stories for children
called Little Feet too much memory recall
must go now
fill my mind with the wails
of Siouxsie Sioux her soothing
lyrics her Ice Queen profile
I so dearly love
and then Joy Division
or THE ORGAN mostly those three of late time to go now
there is so much more I want
to share to say
but its a long blog enough for the moment
i will return
two weeks off
4:48 a.m. - 2008-12-27
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