each day lines up like a partner waiting to dance. some days i dont feel like dancing so i just sit down but secretly i wish that some audacious day would just scoop me up and send me whirling. I am strong when i am strong and i am weak when i am weak. its hard to make my own home sometimes.

we are all fallen gods
living amoung the living
to learn how to worship ourselves,
our sacredness.

i could build something or make something. i could cook something. i could eat something. i could walk to 7-11 and buy a pack of cigarettes that i want to want but hate to smoke. i could cut all of my hair off. i could go for a run. its hot. im sweaty on this island ive created. i like to see how much the flower seed ive planted grow ( Read more... )

last night at two oclock in the morning two big white trucks pulled slowly up to the front of my house.  quietly men got out.  i went into the bathroom and stood in the bathtub so i could watch them in the security of darkness.  they unscrewed the fire hydrant and water came streaming out.  i went outside, thought about waking up my mom, but ( Read more... )

i wake up and wonder what i'll become in the day. today i feel like a well and like breathing deep. sometimes im sad that i have no one to play with because its hard to talk to the moon by yourself.

made a mistake
my new address:
rose mohan
po box 95
acworth, nh 03601

i would love to write letters

now i prepare to leave again this place, although now it has become a different place. i am sad in the same way as when i left before because i feel that i am pulling away from someting that i am truly connected to and it hurts.

i awoke with one eye on my window and across the waters the trees flew their green green sides and their silver green underbellies saying "come grow with us come blow with us." i went out in white and walked across moon waters, foot prints frozen as i stepped. i let my dress fall off and fluttter away behind me as if it had always wanted to fly, ( Read more... )

everyone should go to the library childrens section and read books by patricia polacco

i am not growing old,
im growing new.
i am not growing alone,
im growing you.
i am not a five cent flower,
im a golden afternoon.
i am not a woman in her power
im a waxing crescent moon.

one day i will tell you
that we've always been in love.