Wednesday, November 13, 2013

Magick is my word

so magick is what I’ll say.

A Poetess visited my blog.
Nay, a performance poet!
I Like that with a capital Like.
I admire that about her.
She said things to me that I didn’t understand,
but was also scared by and intrigued by.

Things that referenced performing poetry that you wrote yourself in front of people.
That scares me.
Some people would say I should do it for sure then
(probably even past or future versions of Me).
Maybe one day.
But for now,
I’ll just keep practicing it in my room,
all alone
performing for an imaginary audience
or even just God.

I’ve seen it work with me imagining a big bath tub outside
just because it was a beautiful vision that helped me escape the less than perfect surroundings I was bathing in at the time.

And now,
I have what is like a big bath tub outside.
I’ve been told that - Pretending is one of the fastest ways to get something into your life!
Yeah, I said pretending.
Sounds crazy.
I know.
But sometimes,
pretending is really just practicing,
with really subtle differences.

We should practice things we want to do,
so we know how to do them.
Why we ever think we should just know what to do,
I have no clue.
Must have been our mothers.

The local Poets have been unfriendly towards me.
How silly that I should write that.
I giggle,
it’s true
and nod at its poetic nature.

I don’t know if they are stuck up
or if I just think they’re stuck up which is what makes them seem stuck up.

I was the outsider.
I usually,
to always,
And nothing has seemed to change that.
I also seem to be with a guy who is the outsider.
Go figure.

But now,
it’s all okay,
for I have learned to draw!
And to fill my life up with an army of beings behind me.
My paper and pencil/pen have become what creates connection in my life.
Sometimes it’s my computer.
:) hi.

Yeah, It’s disappointing when people don’t get you.
But not deadly.
We can live through rejection
even in just understanding
and appreciation
and validation
let alone real rejection of the heart!~
But survivable.
All survivable.
Even bullying is survivable.
I’ve seen many survivors.

So, the local poet group didn’t get me
or didn’t want to.
Not a big deal.
I’ll just continue on,
living and loving my dream the way it is now.
Which is part wondering,
always wondering,
getting curious-er
and curious-er....
What will happen then?
And feeling scared
And part Knowing.
And feeling a- sured.
All held together with a big ol’ bow called Art
because it turns out,
and attracting men.
And now,
I take my refuge in that
and I close my eyes tight against it
so the next thought of how it’s not true can’t whisper doubt alive in my belly.
I hate it when that happens.



  1. You are right about the art community being supportive! I love how you have illustrated your very revealing prose with your art. Excellent

  2. Enjoyed reading your post today! (Visiting from AEDM.)


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