I don't remeber writing this

the coma comes on quick.
Faster then hands can move.

the rest feels like flutterng.
A whirlwind.
Of emotion and voices.
In no particular order.

Mortal Sin Nuzzles In

i forgot the numbing
the quickness of it.
Brain has such a small spot for thought
i for got
i four get

replace, place , pause.

Appear put together.

If there were rules this would be the first.
Truthfully no one is counting.
We're all too busy.
And numbed.

Though floating
I still remember

Even when bliss surrounds.

A Poetic Ritual of Surrendar

I wrote this ritual as a first step in dealing with addiction, (change, loss) the idea being that in order to move forward we must first surrender but (sometimes) in order to surrender we need to release. Sometimes releasing the shadows that hold us back is difficult, to say the least. I wrote this ritual to help facilitate this movement in this stage on the spiral while acknowledging it's depth, darkness and light.

A basic alter is set up.

North:Earth & Stones
East: Candles, Red
South: Water, Blue
West: Feathers & Smoke (Smudge)
A bowl of offering what one is surrendering can be present.
A Poetic Ritual of Surrender.


The day begins in the north.

I face the mountains at midnight and allow

the voices of my grandfathers to speak through the wind.

Ears open to breath

heart grounded to earth

I light the communication stick.

(I will smudge)

With a swift inhale and jilted exhale

you answer questions I have yet to form.

With images sweet soft and trusting

I tremble and shake like a bad caffeine high.

The taste starts like a crescendo a muted whisper that slowly builds grandeur

with each movement in the midnight air.

Deep and dark black

I welcome it

for what it is.

New fresh pure untouched bliss

holly with it's child like awe.

And still I tremble with the fragrance of original sin on my tongues tip.

The day begins.

On hands and knees I crawl

Forgetting the days that have lead up to this moment

I become infantile.

Close to the earth I relay on her nourishment

rolling in weeds and again forgetting.

Then from that forgotten sense of space and depth he begins to peak from the horizon.

Forming from the dark.

And as he starts too climb so do I.

Remembering slowly how to stand on knees then

one foot

then both.

Rhythm comes then full movement.

Freedom and longing surface at once
But I am distracted.

By bright piercing red orange light

(here I will light candles in the direction of East)

light

light

light.

Swaying like moving

dancing like breathing

feeling like nothing

but red orange fire.

I'm ignited.

With this Eye opening bliss of re birth re life re living.

(something with water will be done here)

Hot Warm Thirsty
thirst so thick
any concoction will do
as long as the outcome is
numbing forgetting happiness.

Cornered in the back
she asks me what my daemons are and where I keep them.
biting my lip i try to play dumb and flirt my way
out of truths grasp.

Claiming my daemons are few and far,
cute gift wrapped packages
I store alphabetically in a freezer lot, just north of my lips.
I force my eyes to sparkle and pretend.

She hiiiisssssssssssssss
and growls and grunts
flashing her teeth and sneeeeerrrrring
she reminds me
This pretended lie is futile
when grace is inevitable.

light blue mist

cools me.

As I lay at her banks

and allow her to wash me clean.

Of taste of blood of fear

And still I weep for lose.

of taste of blood of fear

Surrendering is never easy

just surreal and lucid.

Bellowing and beckoning with fertile hands she asks for my release.

And I succumb.

(here I will drum)

I awaken weak
wrapped again
in her warm blankets
of brush and leaves
cedar and forest scents fill me.
I am quiet
still
and
content.

As I watch him sink in the horizon
Loosing my desires
and sinking myself deep into her body
allowing my mother and grandmothers
to carry my weight, my burdens and my gifts.

Hovering between sleep and solitude
I surrender to the West again.
the end...

Here I will blow out all the candles and close the directions.

The Three Part Arrival

Part One I drink too much with the French women I enjoy myself emencly and tuck you in on the couch. My alarm sounds three times six hours later all three times I press ssnnnoooozzzzzeeee. Finally with 20 mins. until departure I rise and panic pack pack panic. My eyes burn and the thought of smoking makes me feel blahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Change Deorderize pee Shove brush hair and teeth guzzle wash and Bolt. My head pounds I stand on a crowed train with luggage in tow Then transfer then train then bus then work 7 hours proceed with ham and cheese art classes bank runs and a few arguments with the five year old. Part Two After work public transit becomes a blurrrrrrr. I sit motionless and stare at the layers of grey. Two buses pass finally getting on the third with luggage in tow I arrive again at ____ and ___________. Three joints One pumpkin pot tart Five Marbroughs latter You drop me at the depature door. This time I must master appearing sober and relaxed while Checking in Tagging Bagging and Security. I have half and hour to complete those tasks. Though my brain is mush and paranoia is lurking, I proceed. Pockets empty sweater, braclets, rings, necklace, shoes, bobbiepins, belt and bag removed and placed in tub. My pants begin to fall down I don’t have the time to put all the metal back in it’s place. Clamazipan I miss you. Part Three Four thousand feet above sea level and I’m watching Americas next Top model reading Harry Potter and wondering who wants to have sex in the washroom. The pumpkin pot tart kicks in and I’m a messssss. craving soda and unable to practice restraint I go on a sugar binge somewhere over Saskatwan. An hour to midnight you greet me with a cold wind and a black sky. I can taste the traces of winter in my month and smell the signs of spring in the tip of my big british nose. Our eyes meet and you wink like our friendship is a secret with a language unto it’s self. My cheeks puff lips elongate and strech. My heart and shoulders relax and my breath becomes light as you ask me for a smoke. I laugh those were my first words to you last time. as our timing is always prefect I reach for the Malborhs sign and offer a light. Brown reflecting brown in a continual cycle reflecting and reflecting and reflecting. 2,400 km from home just to get home.

it's silly i know

but...
he kissed me
then held my hand
under covers
and pressed his nose up close.
I know I know I know
but still
he tickles my fancy just so...

girls just gotta have fun

I may have finally met my match.
A partner in biligerent crime.
Someone to shake this city up with.

When you see us comeing I recomend
locking your doors and telling us
we've missed last call.

$50 evenings don't happen often
and that seems to be my saveing grace.

I enjoy being refered to as the calm one.

Somewhere

There is beauty
I'm sure in most things my eyes fall
upon.


Even when it takes my brain
a few weeks to see
the flowers through
the smell of uriane.

What is with this city
and all the stupid drunk people
pissing all over the place?

I was walking down town last night

and that what inspired the rant.

I'd have to say that I'm growing curious
about how this city will handle to
bust after the olimipics.
I can't even spell the fucking word,
how un vanvouver of me.
or is it?

Alone

The wind blows across the ocean,
affecting the waves very little,
if at all.

I watch the tree tops sway,
As though they have something to say.
After hours of silent watching and disiphering
I come up with,
'It's windy outside, maybe I'll wear gloves.'

The sun continues it's coures across the sky
though through cloud cover I cannot see this progression.
Only in my minds eye of travle and past experiences
and even then it's just memory.

When night reaches the water it flickers
in mulititudes of shapes and coulores.
I get lost in reflection.
'What eles is new?'

I want to

I want to scream 'I love you' at the top of my lungs on the highest mountain
Or on the busiest street on the skidiest of rows
I want the world to know, I love you.

The problem being
if there can be a problem with love,
Is that the you is no one person.

This urge over comes me
my actions compelled to complete
this task, so I do.

Whole heartedly.
Yet this leaves a calm empty feeling in my me.

Perhaps the secret with love is too give it away
un nammed.

hhhmmm free eah?

Red tube.
my graciouse.
Will there ever be free real lesbian porn on the net?
Not all lesbians have long fake nails, long hair and moan like that.
Short brown haired
Lesbians do exist just not in the porn industry.
Or do they, any leads?

Ba the U.S.A

It's a Saturday night and I'm quike viewing between
'he man and shera's christmas speacial' and a cbc speacial on video games.
In korea they have gameing super stars sponcered by tela com business
in the usa they're using games to recute new soilders and in Palistine they're using them to permote nationalism in youth. Sorry the spelling is sooooo bad, it was a long day at Shaman school. It's all a brain fuck.

Here's a new one, after a day in the rain forest with shaman , I'm gonna go curising and drink a star bucks. Is that irony? I can't tell.

In case you too are still morning the loss of tvlinks :( I have been resarching new possiblities. However thier documentary listing usually suck. fuck.

As the holidays draw near

I feel as though my mother and I are having a tug o war. Over who can be the least emotional or the most drunk. I've always meant to call her when I'm black out drunk and say crazy things too her but with the time difference and all I just feel too guilty calling her plus then she'd be the one telling me she was concerned for me instead of it being the way it is now. My dad used to be the heavy drinker during my younger days he would go out with the boys every week end. Then when he left our family he stopped drinking and my mom took it up.Thats why I don't drink beer eah, too many memories of beer breath being breathed on me while they touch me and told me how much they love me. Gross.

I was trying to remember my favorite christmas. As a child there a were a few. Back in Germany I think one cdn dollar was like 12 marks and both my parents worked so I got what ever I wanted. Beautiful doll carages and houses, lots of food and friends and army christmas parties. Oh how I miss the tanks being dressed in garlin and bowes. I'll admit it I miss the infantry lately; the smells of the halls , the moose milk in the officers mess, the old guy that waves you on to base if you have one of those stickers, those stickers, the smell of boot polish in the living room, the constant eye of authority and the park battles between army, air and sea. The names we used to call each other would make most civilians heads spin. Childeren taught to talk dirty by army guys!

Any who, I can't remeber my favorite adult christmas because I feel like the night of opulance that was christmas of 2005 was a little to crazy. Besides it was xmas eve and we were soooo hung over we slept apart untill 4:30 christmas day, no we slept together and when my drunken step father called and you answered the phone, my heart almost stopped.

'oh no' I thought 'they'll know I slept with a boy!'

So thats my question  can  sleeping through christmas  count as my favorite adult christmas?

Drinking and crying in the bathroom at my auntes house is next on the list if the other can't count.

Boys, I miss you, 

julie

just email me already, telling me it's okay PLE$ASE!!!
I hate loosing friends.

I think i fucked this up

Even just thinking about me and relationships makes most peolpe cringe. I found a beautifully crazy boy and proved myself crazier then he! ba.
I've said it a thousand times but...
I'd like to stop drinking,
stop getting black out drunk and yelling at peolpe I love or atleast wanna love.

When I crawl into my bed at night I remeber you there eyes sparkling with excitement and something eles that was beautiful. But now all i have left is an anziety rush and guilt.
Mix with a book about genicide and the urge for pain.ba, this shamanic process is hard.

It's been awhile.

I can't help but wonder if anyone still looks to see if I've posted.
My nails are really long and typing is hardish.

This grey wheather reflects my solitude.

gloomy grey billows from smoke towers
while layers of white and grey ashes form
neat piles of remembrance below.
Meant to rest as a decoration within a shrine.
Forgiveness is ...
comeing in small waves.

How does one decide which questions get answered by the flip of a coin?
and which to listen to heart about?
Perhaps with a quater.

June sixth two thousand seven

It's hard to keep up the real life and the computer apperances.
I've moved into a house of mac's and have no idea what the mac comandes are.
The end key takes me to the end of the whole text, sometimes,sometimes does nothing.
the little red buttoms sesitivity
makes me angry sometimes, i have to admit.
One button mouse, 'remeber when you could left click for spelling'
i fondly recall.
Really I just need a mac geek or user.

I had intended to sit here for a while, exspecting a friend to bale.
But he has not, so I must sign off, to watch a spanish flim, 'pan's labrynth' (again the end key did nothing, not even if you hold down the apple key, ba).
the night is gloomy and grey
prefect for a tale. don't you think?

things you shouldn't do

but contemplation is fine...

masturbate with your roommates electric toothbrush
post a casual encounters ad
sleep with your best friend
get black out drunk.

of course this is not a list to base ones life around
and of course I have done most of these acts
it is merely from exspirance that I warn against them.

At times it is the guilt that eats us up
a sense of repentance, maybe they are allergic to latex.
who know?

upon pondering laser hair removal and acid peels.

No I have not acid peeled my ass cheeks
nor have I lasered my ass hair.

Yes
my body is still ravished by the French
Traces of my liniage impossible to remove in their entireties.

This nose I bear as someone eles pride.
I Imagine it belonging to an accient man, who holds wisdom and power
soft gental knowing power.
My heart tells me he's cree, i see feathers and smoke
deep brown wrinkles smoothed by sun and wind.

My brain twitches out british possiblites
I get bored with british wars/cursades\generals
I leave it to roam and take the rest of me for a smoke
to contemplate here and now...

Again my heart beats
women
birtish witch doctors
old sorsory
with ugly dissheviled ridges vallies and humps of noses.
I love noses that tell long stories with ups and downs.

My body is a story
that i'm trying to remember
cellular knowledge.
mixed with big bang thereis,
makes my body the story of my coming here now
star dust universal knowledge, I am fleakes of pluto, mars, the milky way , black holes...
The french still ravish my body.

Good Morning

Hmmmmm, it's 8:39 am and here is what i had to eat so far
(i'm at work and have been up since 6:30)
1 spicy mustard and cheese and salami sandwhich
1 glass blueberry pomaganate jucie
1 glass orange jucie
3 squares french chocolate
hand ful of craker with cream cheese
1 mug o coffee
the coffeee is awful so i'm trying to make it stronger.
Thats a lot to eat in an hour, yes?

It's been a crazy week, I've been up at five, six and six thirty am so far this week and tommorrow will be up at six am again.
but my job rocks, I have friday off and I don't work untill wenesday next week and I just work wenesday and friday.

Things are new thanks for asking.
I went for laser hair removal and a acid peel this week
my skin looks better an dI have no hair on my neck and chin!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I feels weird not having anything to hide behinde
'oh, he won't like me cause I have hair there and am full of acne, then those thing are remorved and calmed and your just like fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk a cute person is looking at me what am i suppose to do quick pick up your book and look enveloped.
what am i reading this week you ask well if you must know I'm back on one of my favorites, this guy almost mades my panties wet almost I'm reading This Side of Paridise by F. Scott Fitzgaradled, I really love the langage he uses and the romatic atmosphere. and i could go on and on and on but who cares?

I'm also back in the bikram yoga studio, hot hot hot.
hot temperature
hot men
hot deals (five day pass $33 includes matt rental!)

And I have two dates this week
with some hot women i might add.
yes one day i will point and laugh and say
'my girlfriend is hotter then your girlfriend'
hahahahahahahahhahahahahahhahahahaha.

I'm going to see my favorite playwrites new play on thursday,
his name is daniel brooks and the play in Bigger then Jesus.
what eles? I got my garden planted but now i need the rain,which judging by this
grey over cast morning
keep your fingers crossed, the hose isn't long enough,
ya, that was my problem with my last boyfriend ahhahahah sexist jokes are on the loose. sorry you know I'm not like that, if you call me then we can talk about hormones and needs.

I should go i'm suppose to be cleaning and what not to wear is on at nine am.
love ya miss ya
I'll be home the seconde last week of July untill augest. if money startes flying i might jont home for a week end. yes you bastardes winnipeg is my home.
love ya and miss you,
julie

a tuesday morning poem

It’s cold here today, it feels like fall in Winnipeg,
though it’s spring in Vancouver.

With the wind
and it’s whispers of promises you beg it not to keep.

Memories scurry and scrunch in your furrowed brow.
Flashes of -35 for weeks,
bleak bland pale senery,
death a constant stagnant pulse, a rhythm unforgettable.

Red pain on flesh mixed with cracks deep like vallies.
Cream deep thick summer sented cream, salve of the gods.
Please offer soothing sadisfation upon contact.

I ask the same of many, objects.


These word juttered through my morning coffee upon the balcony.