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the
mEp
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s
e ptember 2001
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Lyrics
of Life
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september 29 2001 LÖRDAG9:05AM GMT +01:00
sunshine;
parsely;
beef;
saturday morning in sunny
stockholm, wasting my time on cheap talk and wine?
there's a million songs to sing rings around in the land of wool blazers
and turtle necks; where milky white skin outshines tight skin-tight! grey
flannel pants
where they could be thinking that same thing as me, as we pass in the
street or we vie for a seat on the commuter train, where Kort Tag means
'short train'.
i'm still not sure what 'consultants' know, will i ever be one, and where they sit around for a long time waiting for things to begin. and some of them, with 'expert' in their business titles, chuckle as i ask if they are really experts.i've moved from one place to another but i recognize this place and they recognize me too. we join forces and i'm pleased that they are those with whom energy can be joined.
__________________________________________________________________september
27 2001
THURSDAY7:50AM
GMT +01:00
comfy
sleep and poots awakes rested for a change.
thanks
God for that and for knowing cheese. i suppose there are many more than
not, us canajuns who do no know cheese. shame. turnings and whirlings of
things that - ! - really don't concern me much. i'm here, outside the bubble
watching from the inside. never matter, the kaffegradde is good and some
friends are around today.
so there is an odd combination of what is going on in the world; a mix
of unbelievable good with a dash of unbelievable bad. some of the good
is very close, as poots and boots reach for stars in a globally sad time.
i imagine that there always was this indiscrepant mixtures. like this.
one enjoys it less if one has a conscience. but once one is over jetlag
one begins to see things that were hidden before.
i've got new theories, yes, but today i'm trying to remain in the peaceable
moments. in the dancing air. i'm just trying to spell things out in a lyrical
fashion,a visit to my private place,
in a quiet moment, what i've been waiting nearly a week for. i enjoy this
; this meditation, this time alone; my thoughts on the wall, however thinly
veiled; however insignificant.
we'll see if prisextra has some espresso beans; and thanks to the girl
who explains what breadcrumbs are.
and
don't come here lookng for explanations of war;
don't see my words and think me indifferent,
don't pass me off as a pacifist immediately - i may well be,
but i have my opposing views too.
you have to see the important things from venus,
people, although there is no one here to whom i need to say that.
a sorts of preaching to the converted methinks; and then i begin to
wonder what they would preach and what i would read in those words.
i cannot take my 30-something female acadian glasses off,
but i can open the book backwards and read it upside down.
i can watch myself from venus and that's a start too.
but don't you forget it,
i can watch you from venus too and often i am,
often i am.
______________________________________________
september
25 2001
TUESDAY8:16AM
GMT +01:00
five suns follow
us, the white coffee mugs are smooth. the water makes my skin soft or is
it the practically artic air?
visitors confirmed; grocery stores have food. allowances are handed
out.
email server on the fritz, what’s that, expensive? chianti is 20% cheaper
than home.
there is a magic in the air – the only words that come out to describe
what is the combination of us, and this place. an unpredictable trio that
just seems to work.
a relaxed air swoops over us. something is familiar–
is it winter? i’m comparing side by side to LA, to the feelings i had in
that place, to the fear, the endlessness of it all. was it just perhaps
too big, or too large for life...i can’t tell.
there is more
but i shouldrun.
groggy
(earlier)
ok
so this is September; nearly over; many world events leaving the mEp a
quiet place.
but poots is still here, with many thoughts and a soft back.
the wafer laptop grinds loudly; throws me off. The sound has to go
somewhere…
CNN in our face gives us something to watch; and a movie channel, i’m
blank.
i’ve
got hard brain and the grinding sounds like grinding in my brain. i’m staring
at you in a stunned silence; silence both physically and mentally as the
sound of this machine grinds into my brain.
i’m
not waking up yet. i’m looking for thoughts.
i’m moving slowly today; i’ve got to get these words out;
__________________________________________
september
22 2001
Saturday PM
poots
and boots have made it safe and sound.
it’s a pretty sane place so far.
We’ve got CNN and discovery too ;-)
a lovely white apartment and a spectacular view
___________________________________________
I’ve
got my finger on it.
and here is where I get to admit it.
___________________________________________________
I’m far more proud of the accomplishment of becoming mature, however
faulty a state I may be in, than of being successful. The latter I expected;
the former, never in my wildest dreams…
what more could one ask for.
september
19h 2001
wednesday AM
have
you come here for solace;
pootsy isn’t highly motivated this morning, java seems to have gone
thru me. Let’s check the pot ok. Three more sips in the java pot, tepid
but not tea. Scotch breath wakes one in a feverish fear; is the world falling
down, over and over and over again. 8.20 am now.
for an understanding and acceptance?
and in a sense we preach to the converted<
and answer questions such as ‘can we
fight evil’
is my goodness in this vacuum, useful?
we speak foreign tongues, evil andi.
Im pointing north and it’s standing facing west.
nothing to do. Nothing to say.
I’m not even sure I see it.
and I’m quite convinced it doesn’t see me.
what do I do with such a fate, I’m not sure where to go.
so we all turn to God – funny, all of us turn to God
to remind ourselves that good exists.
like a geeky that I am I’m downloading and configuring. But things
are never as beautiful as they are in these red pages, warm and comforting,
private yet public – hi mark! – a place where I’m alone but not. Could
there be a better place? Where you can speak your mind outloud but in private,
I’ts a beautiful thing and probably the most placid of all. It’s something
you have to do to understand it. So many people ask me why, so many have
never done it. 8.23 and I still have time. Some of us believe that if we
write things down, take everything that is in our thoughts, and splay them
on pages, then we’re done what we can to explain things. I’m one of those.
And if it’s only private therapy then so what.
Be
not afraid;
I go before you always
come, follow me
and I will give you rest.
__________________________________________
september
18th 2001
tuesday 7:43 PM
i
can speak my tongue in non foreign lands and i don't kn ow if allunderstand
but i do.it feels good to sometimes
know you are speaking the truth and nothing but the truth: but it can still
be difficult...
and then you can come home feeling so home, and is there a bigger feeling
than coming home...
these
are the words that speak themselves, the words that are subtle
the words warped in time ; wrapped around yourself and slung up by
a goo single malt
oops, a good single malt!
and
you know that there are some in the world who wrap you up and whose lives
you affect,
_________________________________________
september
16th 2001
SUNday
Be
Not Afraid
by:
The St. Louis Jesuits
You
shall cross the barren desert
But
you will not die of thirst
You
shall wander far in safety
Though
you do not know the way
You
shall speak your words to foreign men
And
they will understand
You
will see the face of God and live
Be
not afraid, I go before you always
Come
follow me, and I will give you rest
If
you pass through raging waters,
In
the sea, you will not drown
If
you walk amid the burning flames
You
shall not be harmed
If
you stand before the powers of hell
and
death is at your side
Know
that I am with you through it all
Be
not afraid, I go before you always
Come
follow me, and I will give you rest
Blessed
are your poor,
for
the Kingdom shall be theirs
Blessed
are you that weep and mourn
For
one day you shall laugh
And
if wicked men insult and hate you
all
because of me
Blessed,
blessed are you
Be
not afraid, I go before you always
Come
follow me, and I will give you rest
#----------------------------------PLEASE
NOTE---------------------------------#
#This
file is the author's own work and represents their interpretation of the
#
#song.
You may only use this file for private study, scholarship, or research.
#
#------------------------------------------------------------------------------#
Song:
=good mother
Band:
=jann arden
Tabbed
by: =geoff kennedy
Email:
=gkennedy@accesscable.net
tab=Good
Mother
Jann
Arden
tabbed
by Geoff Kennedy
guitar
tuned down 1/2 step to Eb
E
B C#m
I’ve
got money in my pocket
A
E
I
like the color of my hair
B
C#m
I’ve
got a friend who loves me
A
E
Got
a house, I’ve got a car
B C#m
I’ve
got a good mother
A
E
and
her voice is what keeps me here
B
Feet
on ground
C#m
Heart
in hand
A
Facing
forward
Be
yourself
E
B C#m
A
I,
I’ve never wanted anything
E B C#m
A
No
I’ve, no I’ve, I’ve never wanted anything
E
B C#m A
so
bad... so bad
E
B
C#m
Cardboard
masks of all the people
A
I’ve
been
E
B
C#m
thrown
out with all the rusted, tangled
A
E
dented
God Damned miseries
B
C#m
You
could say I’m hard to hold
A
But
if you knew me you’d know
E
B
C#m
I’ve
got a good father
A
E
And
his strength is what makes me cry
B
Feet
on ground
C#m
Heart
in hand
A
Facing
forward
Be
yourself
E
B C#m
A
I,
I’ve never wanted anything
E B C#m
A
No
I’ve, no I’ve, I’ve never wanted anything
E
B C#m A
so
bad... so bad
A-B-C#
G# A#m F# C# G# A#m F#
E
B C#m
I’ve
got money in my pocket
A
E
I
like the color of my hair
B
C#m
I’ve
got a friend who loves me
A
E
Got
a house, I’ve got a car
B C#m
I’ve
got a good mother
A
E
and
her voice is what keeps me here
B
Feet
on ground
C#m
Heart
in hand
A
Facing
forward
E
Be
yourself
B
Heart
in hand
C#m
Feet
on ground
A
Facing
forward
E
Be
yourself
B C#m
just
be yourself
A
just
be yourself
E
B C#m A
E
B
Feet
on ground
C#m
A
Heart
in hand
E
B
Feet
on ground
C#m
A
Heart
in hand
Fade
until end
________________________________________
september
15th 2001
saturday
what
do they pray for?
_______________________________________________september
13th 2001 thursday
headaches
and wine
images
horrific
pressure
in my spaces
waken
in the night; strange noises, like a child, frightened.
angry.
what's that world, what's my world.
flight
cancelled. no one helping me, this isn't what it's like to be an adult,
there
are adults who care more than this. adults who take responsibility,
i
hope i am one of them - how can i prove to myself that i am one of them.
we
are in something we never thought we'd be in.
we
are watching the ideologies of the world collide:
violence
and the toleration of violence ... it's closer than we think.
we
are witnessing global events - in it's sickness, it's cowardlyness,
a
global picture emerges. it involves us all even after the sadness we don't
understand.
___________________________
september
12th 2001
___________________________________________________
september
11th 2001
earthen vessels?
i
have theories that are brazen.
things
i won't write here. won't write anywhere.
does
this make me outspoken? an artist? rebel?
or
merely foolish.
there
was a time when i could have known; of which i belonged...
sometimes
i would need my hair.
today
it would be nice.
and
we - we have each other for home as we journey into destinations unknown.
"thru
earthen vessels unknown"
we
have each other for home.
"when
you touch my weary head,
and
you tell me everything will be alright
you
say, 'use my body for your bed'
and
my love will keep you warm throughout the nite
you're
my castle; you're my cavern and my instant pleasure dome,
i
need you in my house cause you're my home"
-b.joel
sometimes
i would need my hair.
i’d
hold onto it today.
________________________________________________________________
september
7th 2001
mutual
friends dream of mutual friends and i come home to a card,
thinking
about friends.
maybe
the ones who have made bad choices are the ones with the best advice? they
seem to sound smarter, that's for sure.
it's
friday night at 9:14 and even tho a cosmopolitan calmed my nerves i am
having no more desire to imbibe. i’m in a non imbibing phase, more feel
like power walking. that part of town is saner; people kinder, cosier restaurants
and more sanity in general. too bad getting there turns me all around.
my parents are horrified that i have a hangover; i’m not sure what they
expect. they didn't raise a namby pamby. i dunno.
when
i’m watching i’m watching. i’m thinking, wondering, anallyzing, criticizing.
when i’m here and your red pages stare back at me, i see a blank. i see
the blankness that is possible in all of us; the simplicty of life as i
find my underwear on the floor and from venus observe myself from other
people's eyes and then jump back into tom's eyes who doesn't watch those
things because he's free. i don't watch them but i watch me watching them
and that's nearly as bad. maybe worse.
here,
it's just the summary of all the millions of fired neurons of the day.
i
can't see any perspective other than mine and it will have to suffice.
i’m
not too sure what else to tell you, really.
except
maybe the neighbours should put some tennis balls under their chairs too.
"take
the simple and the ordinary and;
make it into the happy and wonderful
you can do it anyday
anyday" -author
unknown
________________________________________________________
september
5th 2001
anniversary day
cooler
winds blow through the shades now,
tickets
are issued and little capilaries begin to mesh with endorphins, sending
us into some kind of awareness of what's going on. memories of european
towns with sausages hanging in the reflection, or currencies strange and
odd-shaped toilet seats. i wouldn't want these things to ever become normal
for me. coming home will be nice, but going away will be ever so temporary.
These are not the kinds of things that one can easily pen. smells are only
for olfactory, and sights for the widest eyes, as wide as an archepelago.
poots
is in a ballet frame of mind; shoulders and sinuey forearms. feeling romantic
all by myself, seeing this city with my movie-vision, who says anne heche
is crazy?
brilliant
fall sunshine flits thru and then lands on wilting geranium leaves.
all
they know how to do is photosynthesize; and me, i can do that too.
cleaning
the sink is a form of synthetic. i can recognize the civility in it, but
do not preoccupy myself with civilizations. warmed beet salad with just
the right amount of fresh squeezed lemon; roasted squash on an open fire;
peeling asparagus, no matter how expensive - ! - and finely ground italian
espresso beans, just so, just dripped, just perfect, who could deny the
perfection of food. not i, not never. we need to make more movies about
eating.
to
walk up that hill or not, pootsy asks herself.
_______________________________________________________________
august
31 2001
freeday
chewing
chewing little poots doesn't even know the date.
we're
in some altered state. what to do with the end of august...
java
done and poots groggy. woke early.
poots
needs a stretch - - - and a massage achy achy little bones
run
up that hill with all your mite: this is your town baby.
dust
is settling as piles of messes are put away.
travel
request forms and other papers fluff fluff fluff ask me IF I REALLY CARE.
i’m in a 'zona pelucida' - vacuum world after talks with the wise one!
who's waiting to be 65. lol.
yep
this is accurately reflecting things now - but the focus is hidden midst
it.
shame.
because the focus gets clear clear in the misty misty. i feel quite STRONG
now. getting stronger every day....
learn
to sit up straight no matter how geeky it looks. be kind to your body.
feed
it when it says feed me or you'll become mentally ill. no pun intended.
lean
to the right, left. stretch when it needs stretching. why so physical you
ask? some times are just physical, i guess.
yes
these are ramblings and good ramblings too - like i’m on the verge of discovering
something more about me - about us - here in this place that connects us
to japan and stockholm with click clicks here and there it's another miracle
that we're used to.
i’m
not sure what part of me feels unused these days.
i
know which parts ARE used and that's a good thing.
i
can wrap those around the others and come up with a finished product.
sometimes
it's just nice to feel ahead of the game, strong enough to pray for people,
for myself, and for you too.
when
things become so clear they become so dull;
why stay interested the clear?
_______________________________________________
august
28th 2001
twinklings
and bubblings in the poot stomach!
lists,
tickets, and luggage thoughts. chewing chewing.
entering
my deepest thoughts are empty like, i’m in a 'do' phase, no time for ponderation.
sometimes, it takes two.
now
it's tuesday and the air is still. the restful summery days are here, for
us.
unquantifiable
things; walking to the video store, jogging down the hill, and planning
annual camp trips. july is for franticness; august is for restfulness while
most are in a state of frenzy again. the morning roads fill up and back
to school is everywhere. the weather says idyllic; from montreal
to new york is a strange place, the nephew is off to japan! and will i
be able to walk my morning walks over there?
"poetry
of ordinary life is what i live for " -
v.s.
______________________________________________________
august
27nd 2001
ignorance is bliss
ignorance.
it really gets you off the hook.
i’ve
got these huge theories about what happened to me on saturday as i re-arranged
and piled up 170 notebooks in front of me-but unfortunately it's not easy
to put into words and if i did it might end up being 170 notebooks long.
in fact, i suppose it is. you're welcome to read it, anyone is. i’m getting
closer and closer to transcribing the entire thing. in fact, these days
they and the mEp are getting more and more simliar as i speak of real life
accounts here. but this is all dull.
i’m
in need of some fantastical stories now and i have them. they're just not
quite coming out. the newport mug seems to empty quicker and quicker as
i begin the countdown. people from all over are wanting to come and visit
us during our european expedition. is that fantastical enuff? georgie was
thrilled to hear it and family is happy that we are coming back for sure
this time. 'destination unkown' as hangs in our doorway since 1994 becomes
earily eary.
but
this time there are NO FEARS. the energy is right. don't know how to prove
that, but i just know it. maybe some nice prose will come from this box
once we arrive, who knows. it's not coming now so i’m outta here.
17
days. and counting.
_________________________________________________________________________
august
26nd 2001
compilations
poots
is in compiling mode. as the air thins out, the energy is transformed
into actions. paperwork still to be done; but she has completed a milestone
activity in the world of paper diaries. inspired ! to re-read certain sections
of my life, i’m thinking about eras and people that were completely lost
in my active brain. i’m thinking about relationships that my adult brain
doesn't remember, thoughts and feelings that were so much more juvenile
than i could ever have imagined. and it's all written down like an ugly
drawing that you love because your child did it. and you can't believe
that you were that child and that you don't remember being that child but
you know you were and now your fanatacism has allowed you to relive it
momentarily.
um
there's alot more than that going on these days - many life things churning
in parallel, i’m probably ignoring or misplacing someone. i’ve been sending
emails, i’ve been speaking to close friends, not as many as in 1984, but
there are still alot and the comparisons are dumbfounding. merely realizing
that i’ve actually grown up is some kind of small miracle. identifying
more things about myself than i knew existed; watching who i was watching
me change; am i so intrigued because the change is so dramatic? or am i
actually still that same person, as Berdj said last night- have i learned
to close the cover of the nuts? who knows, i’m not sure i want to. i think
there's a part of our brains that we simply never go back to - and not
because it's not there anymore, that's the scariest part. i only
know this because i can read it, we don't all have that luxury.
i’m
thinking now that maybe that's the case - and it's a sad case. or is it,
as he said, merely animal instinct? i wonder now if that explains alot
of this world...
well
the total count for those who care (i certainly do) is about 170. of course
that does not include the mEp, which now totals approximately 600 typed
pages. i guess in handwriting, that might translate to double. there were
several that i could not find but from eras i was less interested in yesterday.
i actually thought there were a whole lot more. now i must protect them
from fire. the most prolific year seems to be 1979 but it may be 1980 since
my handwriting probably got alot more accurate in 80. you just can't imagine
how freaking grown up you think you are when you're 16 years old. it's
truly a freak of nature. and then at 36 - ! - which is my current age as
of wednesday - you learn about yourself things you can't even imagine and
you realize that maybe you don't know anything at all.
and
you smile.
______________________________________________________________________
august
22nd 2001
learning
once
in a while i still get the urge to learn. wireless spectrums, tony bennett,
from here on it's all details. subtleties, nuances from the edges of life's
curves.
with
the wireless stuff, some of the basic tenets of spectrum physics
have very much changed from my girlhood and others have remained scarily
the same; as for tony, it's utter magic how he could set off memories
of a world that i never even knew and create that sinking pit feeling
in my oesophagus . a world filled with the preciousness of time that didn't
even know it was so. a society that defined a type of romance that
exists only in our ability to look back at it. and there he is, in the
middle of 2001 cell-phone land, conveying the essence of that world to
me in a moment so private i’ve forgotten it already. this only shows how
timeless and pure magic what he does is. i’m not sure which is more of
a miracle, that, or carrying voices and data invisibly through the air.
and then there's the possibility that i’m just getting older. funny that.
__________________________________________________________________
august
20th 2001
i’m
being a lazy girl;
with
my over sugared coffee i stare back at the meowing cat next door,
wondering
what all the fuss is for.
i’m
not fat but a nice tan is slimming.
left,
right, what was it i wanted to write?
tick
tock. tick tock. file save.
christmas
snoopy stares back at me reminding me of how quickly things change. one,
two, three, our little 'too-good-to-be-true' mousekateer gang will be effectively
completely disbanded as of september 13th. it's weird the way he left,
never mind weirder how she did; and now here i go, we go, on yet another
journey. and the crazy part is, fortuitous a generous amount yes but the
irony of it is, that we feel perfectly contented here and i’m wondering
if berdj will disappear again this time. i certainly hope not.
i
have no grand soliloquies to write (or spell?);
i’m
not feeling too much rush of emotion;
i’m
not packing;
i’m
not
really doing much at all.
i’m
following what seems to be a pre-scribed route, with grooves that keep
me on it. yet some see life's offerings as scary change or decisions
that mean uncertainty. well yes i suppose they are. but i can't imagine
having ONLY certainty in life. perhaps if one had no certainty in other
things then one would need it in a daily life. for me, i merely see the
route forking ahead and see no other choice but to take the road that goes
unknown. especially as i see it going uphill. this is all i am thinking,
really. i’m thinking about wearing suits and working with foreigners; i’m
thinking about seeing Shashi again for the third time, and perhaps having
some visitors who will sleep on an air mattress. i’m thinking about being
several time zones from santa barbara, and of my plants which
someone else will water. these are mostly what occupies my thoughts; nothing
more complicated really, on this journey.
i’ve
barely seen my sister all summer;
the
cooler air is welcome respite;
and
i’ve not to spend trips with water buckets to keep the flowers alive.
something
is keeping me from climbing that hill, i’m not sure what it is,
i’m
contented here where i am;
i
love to see the little letters fill this page:
and
just being here,
in
the moment,
in
the breezes,
with
a shiny table,
and
little red snoopy smiling at the world;
is
quite rewarding,
enjoyable,
and
me.
and
the puss, still meowing out the second story window.
remember,
i’m a netscape girl.
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copyright Poot's Place
2001