Tuesday, December 29, 2009

i love you pops



this is to johny. thank you for all that you have done for us. always the provider. there's a lot of you in me. thank you for virginia farm and el mason. for badshah rose syrup and sizzling china. for understanding me and giving me the freedom to do things how i like them. for countless wonderful memories carefully crafted over the years. for supporting all of my dreams, no matter how outlandish. i'm sorry i could not save you johny. but you passed on they say on an auspicious day, one reserved only for the holiest. you will always and forever be in my thoughts and in my heart.

your (stupid) daughter

Sunday, December 20, 2009

my heart

today, my heart feels like it is either in love or it is sad. i can't tell.

Saturday, December 19, 2009

Disturbia



for the past month, this is what i hear in the morning, at noon, in the afternoon, in the evening, right from 9 am to 6 pm. this continuous noise.

the reason is this 40 storey building coming up next door which is going to totally destroy my mood.













i'm really going insane. there have to be rules about this kind of thing.
it's insane. and there's no courtesy notice either about how much longer it's going to continue.

i really feel like taking a hammer and a bunch of nails and returning the favour.

Friday, December 11, 2009

at least

“Maybe we only exist in each other’s dreams and every morning when we wake up we forget all about each other.”

- Audrey Niffenegger

(Reposted from suzywire)

Wednesday, December 09, 2009

"Nahin Samne"




dekho chhod ke kis raste wo jaate hain
saare raste vapas mere dil ko aate hain

nahin saamne, nahin saamne ye alag baat hai
nahin saamne ye alag baat hai
mere paas hai, mere paas hai tu mere paas hai
mere paas hai tu mere paas hai
mere saath hai,mere saath hai

tera naam maine liya haai yahan
mujhe yaad tune kiya hai wahan
tera naam maine liya hai yahan
mujhe yaad tune kiya hai wahan
bade zor ki aaj barsaat hai
bade zor ki aaj barsaat hai

mere paas hai tu mere paas hai,
mere paas hai tu mere paas hai
mere saath hai, mere saath hai

bichhad ke bhi mujhse juda tu nahin
khafa hai magar bewafa tu nahin
bichhad ke bhi mujhse juda tu nahin
khafa hai magar bewafa tu nahin
mere haath mein hi tera haath hai,
mere haath mein hi tera haath hai

mere paas hai tu mere paas hai,
mere paas hai tu mere paas hai
mere saath hai, mere saath hai
mere pass hai, mere pass hai
mere saath hai, mere saath hai
mere pass hai, mere pass hai
~Taal

Tuesday, December 08, 2009

Monday, December 07, 2009

"Housing Shortage"

I tried to live small.
I took a narrow bed.
I held my elbows to my sides.
I tried to step carefully And to think softly
And to breathe shallowly
In my portion of air
And to disturb no one.

Yet see how I spread out and
I cannot help it.
I take to myself more and more,
and I take nothing
That I do not need, but
my needs grow like weeds.
All over and invading,
I clutter this place
With all the apparatus
of living.
You stumble over it daily.

And then my lungs
take their fill.
And then you gasp for air.
Excuse me for living.
But, since I am living,
Given inches, I take yards,
Taking yards, dream of miles
And a landscape, unbound
And vast in abandon.

And, you dreaming the same.
~Naomi Replansky

"By Candlelight"

This is winter, this is night, small love --
A sort of black horsehair,
A rough, dumb country stuff
Steeled with the sheen
Of what green stars can make it to our gate.
I hold you on my arm.
It is very late.
The dull bells tongue the hour.
The mirror floats us at one candle power.

This is the fluid in which we meet each other,
This haloey radiance that seems to breathe
And lets our shadows wither
Only to blow
Them huge again, violent giants on the wall.
One match scratch makes you real.

At first the candle will not bloom at all --
It snuffs its bud
To almost nothing, to a dull blue dud.

I hold my breath until you creak to life,
Balled hedgehog,
Small and cross. The yellow knife
Grows tall. You clutch your bars.
My singing makes you roar.
I rock you like a boat
Across the Indian carpet, the cold floor,
While the brass man
Kneels, back bent, as best he can

Hefting his white pillar with the light
That keeps the sky at bay,
The sack of black! It is everywhere, tight, tight!
He is yours, the little brassy Atlas --
Poor heirloom, all you have,
At his heels a pile of five brass cannonballs,
No child, no wife.
Five balls! Five bright brass balls!
To juggle with, my love, when the sky falls.
~Sylvia Plath

Saturday, December 05, 2009

"It's Raining In Love"

I don't know what it is,
but I distrust myself
when I start to like a girl
a lot.

It makes me nervous.
I don't say the right things
or perhaps I start
to examine,
evaluate,
compute
what I am saying.

If I say, "Do you think it's going to rain?"
and she says, "I don't know,"
I start thinking : Does she really like me?

In other words
I get a little creepy.

A friend of mine once said,
"It's twenty times better to be friends
with someone
than it is to be in love with them."

I think he's right and besides,
it's raining somewhere, programming flowers
and keeping snails happy.
That's all taken care of.

BUT

if a girl likes me a lot
and starts getting real nervous
and suddenly begins asking me funny questions
and looks sad if I give the wrong answers
and she says things like,
"Do you think it's going to rain?"
and I say, "It beats me,"
and she says, "Oh,"
and looks a little sad
at the clear blue California sky,
I think : Thank God, it's you, baby, this time
instead of me.
~Richard Brautigan