Drinks From the Well-worn

Ok so Im literally at a bar. Decided to write a poem outta the blue. Here’s what I got. Enjoy :)

Hey Bud,
What’s Ur Buzz,
What fuzz to come down,
What hurt to numb now,
What fucks to not give
When what u love is not lived.

Sips of brew
Stir the stew
And beer guzzling
Of beer drunkary
Meets clear streams
Of tear-huggary
On cheeks red and blushed,
Flushed and oiled
From a hard days work.
A hard days work
Makes night lay hurt
And will you night-lay her
When dizzy-gaze shirks
Oh boy, the country
You live may never pay first,
So take the next sip first
This next drink to pay is on me


Turning 25 (Some stuff I learned on the way) PART 1

What’s to say about turning 25. As of last week I finally ditched my early twenties and entered a new realm of “twenty-something” that’s supposed to bring me new perspectives on life, liberty, and love. So the question still remains “What’s to say about turning 25?” The answer: Not much. You’re still at an age where no one really respects you or decisions in life, yet at the same time these people who don’t care, respect, and give any type of aid to you expect you to have all these responsibilities and if you slip up on them then OH GOD, watch out. It’s funny how quick the world wants to pounce on anyone who makes a mistake. I can’t say that I’m happy or proud of the past 5 years spent in my twenties BUT, I can proudly say I’m not afraid to make a mistake, mostly because I’ve made so many, have had many regrets and yes all the pain and stress I endured over the years, I would love to give it all back. But you can never go back. Time is funny that way. It constantly wants to push us forward, so fast that we miss what we were supposed to learn in the first place, until we come to a realization that’s too little too late. This then causes us to ponder, which then causes us to miss what we’re yet again supposed to learn moving forward, causing the same cycle to continue until we hit the marble tombstone dressed in our best-dressed attire and bodies filled with embolming fluid. As one of my favorite lines from the band The Kills says “Time. Doesn’t. Give. A. Shit.” So like I said, “What’s to say about turning 25.” NOTHING.

BUT, that’s not necessarily a bad thing. All this means is that I’m still unknown. Unknown to the world and possibly unknown to myself. There’s still so much I have yet to do, yet to see, yet to experience and yet I get bogged down by the constant clamour from people suggesting I need to do this and that, and be this and that, and if I haven’t gotten to this yet, then I’m (to paraphrase) universally fucked. Fucked in such a way, I might as well call the world a frat-house, and I’m the naive freshman girl who gets ruffied, waking up to a bunch of hetero-assholes threatening me to keep quiet about the situation.

Here’s the things I’ve learned over the past 5 years, which is funny because it was at 20 when I REALLY started learning the tricks and trades of the world.

1: WHETHER GOD IS REAL OR NOT IS IRRELEVANT IF YOU CAN’T FEED YOURSELF: This statement here is not a question about the existence of God. This is directed to the fact that when you’re down on your luck, with no food, no money, no job, and no hope at all to grasp onto, arguing with yourself about God and the Universe isn’t going to bring you happiness or bread on the table. I know many times I sat in my room, or in my car just pissed off about whether God existed and if IT did why would God let the world be what it is and allow so much shit to happen to me and the individuals around me. I was consumed with hunger on a daily basis( I literally couldn’t stand up one day from lack of food) and had whatever disparities and anxieties going on in my life, all the while, I’m focusing all my energy on the curses of the world and God’s seemingly uncaring nature, or if God is even there to begin with. Wallowing, that’s all I was doing and not saying there wasn’t good reason to wallow, but it was doing me absolutely no good. I can say from experience, when you just focus on getting yourself together, your spiritual path and inner turmoil will automatically engage some kind of resolution. Whether that leads to atheism or all out Evangelism, the world will confuse, confound, infuriate, and depress you, unless you give up this innate need to explain it’s paradox. Trying to solve a paradox is oxymoronic and a paradox upon it’s self. Simple steps to getting your life together:

Find a place of comfort

Forgive yourself/ Ditch shame

Save up your money

Figure yourself out

Figure out what you love to do

Pursue your career

Learn to care again

Once these things are put into place the confusion of God, the Universe, and society as a whole will soon wither away.


My new sounds:


John Armleder at Fernand Léger Foundation

The Ocean(part 4): Horizon

Lying here

In acquaitance to

The harboring seas

That accompany me

I found myself some company.


             Deconstruction of



             With the wave’s

             That swell free,

             How swell to be.

This swollen structure

Has run it’s course

And letting go

Should be the source,

But I can’t forget

Without remorse,

The pain in my chest

Pressured the rest,

Harder to say goodbyes

With sentimental eyes.

                               Danger on the Horizon

                               Landmark where fate lies in,

                               I found my company with this,

                               The dream of perfect bliss

           Happiness from sorrow

           Is the curse of tomorrow,

           And all the time borrowed

           How do I find so much glow.

But I look out to the rainbow

And what I find just won’t glow,

It just sits there on the Horizon

Waiting for me to go.


The Ocean(part 3): SEAGULLS


Fried brain cells endured storm cells,
clumped sand dwells in my mind oh pellmell

Oh Majesty

how you destroyed me

Oh tragedy

how you battered me

what mattered to me
seems like disease in the factory.

My eyes seep
through wave-torn floorboards
digging further past the moment,
past nauseum of battle
past the waiting of fate,
sinking deeper in the abyss,
neurosis swirls
through these currents,
as I hit the bottom
and see the monsters roam
the dark sea
and through the dark

they see,
and through the dark

they see.




This house I built packaged,
will wilt by tidal wreckage
it carries my title
of pride and possession
a lesson of swells
make the tale
no so swell.

Harder collision
peeling off wallpaper,
my pretentions
molded into mildew
I do feel too,
and think blue
my actions in agitation


The Ocean (Part 2): Coupe De Grace


This house I built packaged,
will wilt by tidal wreckage
it carries my title
of pride and possession
a lesson of swells
make the tale
no so swell.

                       Harder collision
                       peeling off wallpaper,
                       my pretentions
                       molded into mildew
                       I do feel too,
                       and think blue
                       my actions in agitation
                       leave ruin
                       to this foundation.

               Humid and tepid
               Heightened numbness
               from too much awareness,
               A carelessness
               of caring endless

The attic spills
into the hallways
and so many memories
that once held shelter to me
as I, them,
wash away
as they wade,
from contruct and me
to a world of lonely rough sea,
I have nothing now.

                      My head upon the bed,
                      it rocks like a cradle,
                      the oceanic arms
                      grappling me with such force,
                      tears I spill over
                      these troubling times
                      swivel like pendulums
                      in the sheets of my past,
                      my, present, my future.




Rooftop and mind
bells ringing
in echoes of 3
surrender to the sea
abound with turmoil
encapsulated with
grief, the loss of my home,
the loss of everything

                        What’s known is never unknowable


The Ocean (Part 1): Surge

It’s magnitude crackles of behemoth sound,
rocks cradles of truth round

I crash on shores of careening depression cliff-side dive into…

A conch shell loophole, don’t make waves just ride them thru…

Empty hope

a mast thru eternity,

a fact written eternally.


Cool wind blows,
my lips, they shiver in the cold,
resistance in the death
of the nightly murder
slowly unfolds

Heightened awareness
the rage inside,
screams through my eyes
I’ve got some demons
with no pride,
I push on potential
to make this mayhem torrential
I got a bat in my hand
just wait understand my plan
I break, you break,
we all break at some point,
Whips at my back
make me scream Tobey at some point,
and then I hear it as clear
as the ringing in my ear,
I’ll make em fear me,
before they ever get near me.

Break shit,
Demolish it,
Go ahead and take it,
The columns read
Im a lunatic

Face it,
you’ll never be one of them
So Basic-ly
you’ll never be as dumb as them