Spontaneous Download

Who am I writing to if not ever to me? It’s been a hell of a year. A hell of one. A long one, one that negates any prior necessity of predisposed positioning (there it is again, that garble tongue defense mechanism keep them in circles and you can get out before they even know they’ve been spun) and just tells you one day: there you are, here I am, and most of all: Forget it all. How the hell did this happen.

I don’t know what I want to say. Poetry comes out used to only to him. The ovulatory time gets here and I am caught up on some man, every time, and all my thirsty creative energy goes out the door in long timeless bouts of headtrip and daydream. This is better than it going out on Adult Ed? I tell myself. But it is true, I am only third cycle in to my new life…had to get him out of my system last go round and it worked, it really did he is not even with no power now but simple and straight, not there, and that is the first time I ever wrote that scared as I always was that it would jinx things. That somehow without him the ovulatory release wouldn’t come again? And yet it did, it does…and it scares me the difference it really does. And makes me smile because, what else can I do? And chill Kel you are the one of all who always has to tell others—so this time just tell yourself: accept yourself all of yourself for where you are this moment and do not judge. It’s ok if there is always some man. I just remembered a dream I had last night, a large house in the woods on a corner of the ocean, on an island it reminds me in my aftersight of Vinyl Haven. It reminds me of Todd. I’ve been drinking coffee like mad not for all the work I am doing but for the late night fun I’m keeping, so even my sleep feels buzzed and sort of live-wired. It is light on the back porch, light air, light noise in the trees. One time a long time ago I used to sneak out from here out the side window of Tim and Mary’s bedroom and sneak through the secret patterned paths through the woods. Todd’s house Kohuts Lemers and more. Even longer time ago before that I used to go bikeriding just before night in the dusk to explore all the different side roads that led to more and more undiscovered parts of Ocean Pines. I hate it when things don’t make sense, a month ago they did, I was on fire, I had a book to write and so much poetry and little projects and pictures to make and send to friends. Now I am confused again, so much unknown, it is retrograde time before the equinox, time of the great review and rest before the shift. And what is happening to me is hard to pin down I hate it, hate it when I am not in control. Witness witness that is all there is right now to do… That is the great secret of me, the one that only the truest friends know. My free spirit is only free because it's the result of the last great opposition inside me. I WANT TO BE IN CONTROL. So I challenge myself, even, especially, finally, with that….

The other thing is that to be honest scares people. People exist and function in their categorized boxes: to say I am confused, equivalent of this in people’s head she is not happy. That is funny, lacks the process and any semblance of the grand picture, so myopic all about meeeeeee! Reflex reflexivity. Shows zero intuitive capacity, no real sense of the mystery or even a thumbprint idea of the design. I am more than happy, so happy it makes me giggle to think about my life and also makes me smile. I am an ace the ace and the wild card, able to be happy in whatever circumstance I am given to roll in because that is life and I want to live all I can while I’m here. Center in the moment and open to exactly what is in front of you happening right now. What else is there than that? It’s just that living sometimes, living the moment is being full of unanswers, and that is hard, but hard only means process, not bad. She tells herself. If that doesn’t work get some sleep. Sunshine, or water. Ahhh this very long year I don’t even remember who it was I used to be…Mercury retro scrolls like this it is tough to contain, it is tough because you are in limbo hanging there in the water and the water is a ripcurrent and you’re afraid if you go under there is no air. On Sept 12 we will come out, the quickening will occur then and then—equinox onthesamedayexactly as the full moon!!!! O people, if you only understood. If only you took a minute, looked over your own order to the Ordered Nature of things, easiest way to it just go sit outside a moment on the lawn. Listen, listen to the noise, elemental, of the days. Listen to the trees sway, listen to feel the airbreathbreeze. Warm your blood in the sun. The answers are there, nothing else, no need to run. It’s been a long year, PS, I love you, says the moon, the sun, the trees. And me.