for rent: one bedroom, 2nd floor walk-up, upper east side

Open the door to the lobby. Fluorescent lights and pale green paint.

Step up two stairs and the smell, an old man.
I see him.
Pale eyes, watery and pink, grey wool pants with egg yolks crusted on the thigh, a yellowing undershirt and red flannel jacket embedded with cat hair.

Sweet mocking voice – Come here little girl.

He hovers above me, and by the time I slip the key into the door of my apartment at the top of the stairs, he has my throat.
And I am more angry than afraid – he is familiar and
I am not a little girl anymore.

I have to breathe him. His pressing down on me is worse when I step through the door. My chest burns. I smell him everywhere, on my clothes, in my hair.

If I could ignore the smell it would be easy.

My husband doesn’t understand how I hate the old man, how I hate him.
How I hate him for staring at me from his perch at the window with the fan in it.
Where he smokes.

I hate having to ask him to wash his hands or his hair or to brush his teeth when he comes to bed.

At last I recognize the old man.

At last is a long way away that will suddenly be behind me.

That’s how it goes.

I want to walk to a café and sip coffee and talk to writers, artists – then write, then paint, then ride my bicycle. Sunset purple and orange, white turns pink, turquoise, violet.

Quick! Don’t want to miss it.

Shadows, stars, thick orange blossom air.
Bicycle float, glide in the night.
Breathe.

 

4/11/11
Flagstaff, Arizona

Posted by

I'm a rock-n-roller poet who left the Big Apple for the Big Sky Desert where I've been letting it be and grooving with universal love, singing to the gods, dancing with the muses and bicycling with dreamtime messengers. I like altering my reality through imagination, movement, breath, and makin' stuff.

5 thoughts on “for rent: one bedroom, 2nd floor walk-up, upper east side

  1. Yes! And some RIOTOUS ORANGE SILENCES to dispense with the MOFO… so he will settle.. so he will STOP… AGAIN, DOOD STOP…. So, he will at least subside TOWARDS stop…so…he will address… the things he’s done.

    I know that man…. for a friend…

    Holly… Holly… Couraage I see you have it.

    “”Vulnerability is the birthplace of courage.” ~ Brene Broan
    P.S> DaFUQ the anger. Step back once you do, and see YOU. Then, enRAGE it!.. to…

    “And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” ~ Anais Nin

    Mayne this was simply a story? From this side… You’re THERE GIRRUL!

    P.S. If I over-stepped… , then I did. Let me know. From THIS side, you’ve been flexing too burst for.. as long as the short I’ve known you.

    That “…. I really can’t pt M A N In all caps… or even USE that word for him.

    … I can say WOMAN! Do you need a CAPE, or are you more Cat-woman who dispenses with that sort of gig?

    Dafuq, FUCK that MOFO. Reminds me of one of my primary mantras.. when I drop someone by moving out of their way. “Jordan, I thought you were peaceful.”

    “Well, I certtainly am. Though, why move 3” when the blade is only 1/4: wide? He REALLY looked attracted to that wall. Heck, when I moved out of the way, he certainly WENT for it.”

    “Jordan, you moved.”

    “Oh, that’s true.” (Looking down. “Gravity is strong with this one. Fall down often…after you is and slam into the wall? Might want to have that looked at.”

    Holly, I put forth this wits and perspective example for one reason.

    I see your, yes, playing the higher octave. I, also, see you dafuq that shit, PLAYING at YOUR octaves whatever they may be. You and Paul are doing some things that many can’t. Please don’t distract yourself in some pool of empathy with that, It’s YOUR GIG now and daFUQ THEM!

    That’s them, may I suggest.

    Your Life, Your Way. May I suggest that, too?

    If this is presumptuous, Ive over-stepped.

    If not, I look forward to watching you and {all shine like you and me and you guys have not yet seen before.
    Are you game for YOU to do Sovereign You?

    Are you game for YOU to do Sovereign You?

    P.S. this is typically bu SOP discernment not expressed like this in public, though it is not calling you out.

    IN?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hi Jordan,

      This is like a compound true story. I’ve been going through stories – as I have been thinking about writing my life story for a long while. i suppose it will be more like a series of poems rather than a memoir – my stuff comes out in fragments, scenarios.
      but maybe that’s how things are, fragmented.

      Or like a bird circling circling circling around the thing before zeroing in on its dinner.

      the man – the grandfather, the father, the husband. all compressed. all should have been protectors, though more or less oppressors and certainly inappropriate – especially with the little girl self. Mindfuckers and fuckers in general.

      this piece, at least the first draft, was written in 2011. More and more – i am being called to write. one of my majors in college was creative writing. I graduated in 2004 – it took me ten years to put myself through college. (all of my creative work basically got put aside as i got married and a corporate banking job within a few months of graduating).

      my life is very different now.

      recently i was thinking of my ex-husband (as it feels to me so much feminine energy is rising up in the world – Kali is pissed!!! ) – my ex-husband would tell me daily that I was insane. Daily! And that he loved me so much, and that he was miserable. if only we could solve the problem of me. Master manipulator/liar/abuser. I can tell you if I did not leave him, I would not be alive today. He was a vampire draining me of my health and my will to live. Talk about first chakra issues – let’s just day my intestines were telling me to get the FUQ out!

      And maybe I’ve been thinking of him lately, too, as I am finding my power in music again. I gave music up to try to be an “adult” and save our marriage. he played on every insecurity I ever had – and had a way of saying ‘fun” like it was a 4-letter word. Anyway – no more attention to that guy.

      music brings me so much joy – and it feeds all, ALL, of my other creative pursuits. without music – everything else died.

      everything but mountain biking. while trying to fill the hole in my soul of no music, i discovered mountain biking. i love it – and was even doing well in competitions. i love it, but not as much as music.

      Step-grandfather, step-father, father, school teachers, principal – it’s like where I grew up, predators everywhere. Such a weird thing to look back. i always have my eyes open for the little girls (and boys, too) in my neighborhood, the children of my friends.

      There is so much navigating with trust as a child.

      Sometimes i am angry – but mostly I know that if I didn’t experience the things I experienced that I would not have the life I have now.

      i had to get far way from my family to be able to live freely, too. i love my mom. and, even so, my family as a unit, repeatedly, like my ex-husband, pulling the rug out from under me. over and over and over and over. bad for my health and well-being. Chiron in the 4th house!

      Also,I have been thinking of the concept of home. You know that’s one of my themes. I want to move from the house I live in, and yet still want to stay in Flagstaff since I have built a pretty sweet community here.

      And sometimes, I/we think of leaving, too. That post called a Town without Music really is the limbo Paul and I are in.

      Paul is a kind, beautiful, light human being. I knew when I saw him performing – years before we met – that he was something special. Someone otherworldly, or superworldly – I could see how deep he was. It took almost a decade for our worlds to begin overlapping – even in this small (I guess not so small now – when i moved here pop 60,000 – now it’s about 140,000) town/city. (It’s getting too crowded for me – i keep wanting to move to the edge)

      anyway – yes, true story. and, no, you are not overstepping. and FUCK THAT GUY!

      And yeah – personal sovereignty? you bet! not easy, but well worth the work, the observation. a conscious creative life is the only way to live.

      Thanks, Jordan! You are also a kind soul who i am happy to know- even in the subtle world of digital ethers.

      Holly

      PS – I am aware this note is fragmented and all over the place – sorry for the leaps

      Liked by 1 person

      1. 🙂 What a wonderfully intense and clear story. 2 things.
        1. It’s not fragmented. It’s multi-faceted like the Polymath (multiple expertise) that you are.
        2. LOL… Kali’s always pissed. Basically, her job, and she’s GREAT at it. 😉

        Liked by 1 person

        1. And, not to be simplistic and over generalize Kali. I find her destroyer of evil frenzy of Self dancing on her calm consort of Shakti, her witness counterpointed to his foundational calmness to be one of the most interesting contrapuntal examples to explore. That one facet of her that is time brings to mind the asteroid Moira who rules the internal sense of time and timing, those all-knowing intuitions where reasons are wholly unreasonable. And, Moira has her syzygy partner in crime as well. She is Chronos’ (Kronos/Saturn) wife. He gets the Shakti stability of chronological time, and she gets the oceanic, inner infinities of the unconscious as it surfs the liminal threshold into consciousness and into our daily lives. Layer in Chiron as Chronos’ son, and there’s quite a triumvirate family present.

          And, Kali is a monster fighting monsters, immune to Nietzche’s “Be mindful when fighting monsters not to become one.” And, she is no monster in the traditional sense. She is Sacred Beast, that which has full command over its true Nature uncut by anything. She can be a light wind Zephyr and a torrential tsunami on the same day, within the same moment even. Weather Is. And, I feel that Kali is one of the closest related to Gaia herself where is is Nature. Nature’ll kill ya, and also… rather than what does not kill us makes us stronger… I don’t buy that in total. What doesn’t kill us doesn’t kill us because it loves how much of our own naturally uncut intensities in our inner weather that we have harnessed AS ourselves. Kali and Gaia and Moira and Nature-WIthout-Gender-Nature-which-only-has-weather-and-no-moods to me are the antithesis to the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Necessary. Present. Powerful. The-intensity-of-being-100%-uncut-identity-Sovereign — which is a life’s work.

          Liked by 1 person

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