Fat Mouths

I’m about to rail at some loud-mouthed idiots here, and if I happen to offend any thoughtful, rational human beings of any background, such is not my intent and I’m sorry. The article I’m posting below reminds me of the few moments I had to study before an Art History exam at UTK. As if my own anxiety weren’t impeding me enough, some “kind souls” came to help out by praying for me during my last five minutes before class, despite my strong hints that I needed this precious time to myself. I bit my tongue out of politeness for such nonsense for the last time that day. These self-righteous, unhelpful people need to stop impeding on others’ attempts at managing the stresses of life.

The article below is about Christians who don’t want their children exposed to the religious aspects of yoga. That’s a fair enough demand. However, I still wish they’d shut up and act out their values instead of running their two-faced, fat mouths about all the imaginary injustices in the world. Badges and affiliations don’t impress me. I’m impressed by a thoughtful set of values solidly adhered to on the personal level. If a person must proclaim their values loudly, what are they over-compensating for, exactly?

My final thought on the matter is that I believe the indoctrination of youth is akin to brainwashing and a form of child abuse. I will not be making any such personal decisions for my own daughter, and instead I’ll simply discuss facts with her.

Oh, and, uh, Hail Satan!

https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/morning-mix/wp/2016/03/24/ga-parents-offended-by-the-far-east-religion-of-yoga-get-namaste-banned-from-school/?hpid=hp_no-name_morning-mix-story-b%3Ahomepage%2Fstory

The best gifts for me

have been, without question, bags of sand from fancy beaches.  I use it for incense holders, paper weights, decoration, … … …

In fact, I am jealous when other people receive more sand than I do.

When I was little and my dad returned home from the Desert Storm war, he gave me a couple of tiny tabasco bottles.  I love those bottles, but I can’t do anything with their modest contents.  Years later, when I noticed the big tabasco bottles that my dad gave to other people, I was jealous!

When someone travels to an amazing place, I am happiest when I have been given a tiny piece of that place.  [Call me an ungrateful non-capitalist if you will, and I’m happy to get the fuck out.]

Protected: I like to put on your music before taking a bath.

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Protected: I wanted to ask him,

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Protected: Please help me.

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I say this to a friend

as a disclaimer while I exchange phone numbers:

Notes:

*I dislike chatting so I usually don’t answer rings

*I sometimes wait days [years, sometimes] to respond to text messages [contact]

*I am known to arbitrarily refrain from acknowledging parts of incoming dialogues

These terrible offenses of mine can never be rightfully taken personally by any friend of mine, such as your illustrious self, M.D. I do hope this a temporary condition of mine, that I commit such offenses.

Bonsaii!

Nothing strange here.  I was just feeling particularly lonely at a beach wedding several years ago, so I mailed a final draft of this poem to someone after compiling a rather extensive package of things with which to surround my little note.

ca. 2009

This came next.

ca. 2009

“Remember, all you sexy cowboys and Indians: I am not solicitor; I am simply insane.”

-Ursula E. Minor, ca. today

Old News

Ice falls away from this
Lupine lady of clay as the
Outré supplicant sways then her
Void, pervaded by day when his
Elan shines like a ray o
Yea to touch him I’ve prayed for our
Own romantic foray
Under velvet and starry arrays

ca. 2009

Love at first sound
Was certainly you
My Hands were tied
I’m bound, I’m true

And so I was beaten
Was cloven was bared
Then I was bitten
Still mute now aware

An old magic horn was
Put in or pulled out
When you strummed the cords
That ignited my doubt

Dark woman in dream
She bled my wrist
Blue jay held tight
In this dreamland tryst

There is one close
It’s true, so true
I shall see you sir
For I’m certain ’tis you

ca. today

12/28/2013

My dream faded quickly the first time I was roused by my pee-dancing dogs. Rather, I presume as much because once I fully awoke, the dream memory crept in after a minute or two.

I was in a house. Or was it a condo community? Or a bed and breakfast inside a mansion? With whom was I?

My party was several people thick, with one holdout who was, in fact, terrorizing the rest of us, lying and cheating to get a one-up on us. I remember that we were sneaking between rooms and locales, averting his nefarious plans of offing each of us, one by one.

The details have dissolved, leaving the shells of imagery. I remember that I had paired up with a girl who was afraid of the antagonist; I remember being inside Adam’s attic apartment to discuss logistics [of what?]; I remember feeling alive finally, as if  I were finally experiencing a challenge for once in my thirty two years of life.

Of course, the antagonist was figurative. I believe it represents a concept familiar to us all. A hamsa is a talisman worn to protect against the “evil eye,” which manifests in others as envy, ire, and general ill will. The evil eye is not unrelated to the American “stink eye.”

The antagonist in my dream represents general oppression. Everyone knows how “terrified” I am of oppression. Lol.

 

…that filled the background air with Frank Sinatra.

This already happen in my dream several years ago. You had him and me in your car, and I was disappointed that you suggested a strip joint.  I knew this was figurative.  You told me you would take him under your wings, so to speak; that you would take him through your past spaces.  I believe that is what is happening now.

I can’t remember if that dream happened before or after my other lucid dream with you. Is it relevant?  As I closed my eyes under the warm sun, suddenly your hum palpated my solar plexus.  You stood in a smallish, dark theater tending the record player that filled the background air with Frank Sinatra. It was dark, and I was alone because nobody else was looking. You turned to look at me, and when you winked, I opened my eyes to pure silence.

My third lucid dream from that time has already occurred: I found my silver blue sack sullied with a rusty-looking stain several weeks ago.