UN-LABLED

new year's resolution

2012-01-18T13:29:00.002-06:00

new year's resolution

goodbye [ ]

hello new day

here's to an un-

                                              answered tomorrow


                                                                                                                JANEisnotplain 0330am 1.12.12

1.1.2012 REBELLION

2012-01-01T05:48:00.000-06:00

rebellion.

its everywhere [i, you, we ] put [my, your, our ] lips.

JANEisnotplain 1.1.12

dear bukureshe: untitled 12.22.2011

2011-12-23T08:29:00.000-06:00

dear bukureshe,

never did i think i would be able to

trust other hands with my broken heart

and hurting soul but i found a warm and

beautiful place beneath your coat where

i lay my head on your chest to listen to

your heartbeat shut out the world with

its sweet fluttering and i began to love

again.

Love,

JANEisnotplain 12.22.2011@ 0400am

dear r: used 10.27.11

2011-10-28T10:05:00.001-05:00

dearr: used 10.27.11

dear r,

You

used

Love

well.

well,

You,

Me,

used

Love

well,

You

used

Me

Love

You

well

Me

used

Love

You

well.

love,

JANEisnotplain 10.27.2011

bukureshe

2011-09-01T10:11:00.000-05:00

dear bukureshe,

it feels so good to

have your hands on

on my body drawing

pictures on my bare skin

with kisses they

wander lower and

your hands make a

mess of fresh sheets

your tongue between

my [ ]s and i’mclose

to [ ].

love,

JANEisnotplain 8.31.2011

0330am project: panic 8.28.11

2011-08-28T08:50:00.001-05:00

hotcoldwetwarm.

tossing blankets.

writhing madly

like a fish. gills

franticallysearch

forwatertobreathe.

donotpanicplease.

JANEisnotplain 8.28.11 0348am

d.p.

2011-08-05T11:50:00.005-05:00

d.p.

he took the glass dropper into his mouth and

squeezed out its mitigating contents onto his

tongue. it tasted bitter like an orange peel and

he did not remember his purpose. so soon you

will forget, a voice tells him. forgive the way

some things were, he whispered. celebrate

things the way they [ ].

0346 am 8.5.11
in loving memory

WANT AD #7

2011-06-05T08:36:00.002-05:00

want ad #7

i am attracted to the curves, the

straight line. i am attracted to the

flawed soul, gentle touch. i like

unfolding, subtle beings, intention.

you are still searching, still wearing

useless attire, still willing to lay

everything out there, still seeking

whatever “it” is meaning

JANEisnotplain 6.5.11

for the want ad project

BREATHE, LIFE

2011-02-10T09:46:00.002-06:00


photo by: P. Sinclair it isn’t the breaths we count, nor is it the moon or the stars sinking into the sand, or the sun rising again and again. if you close your eyes and let the cool air surround you, the trees will whisper wind, lovers will love, dogs will bark, and energy will flow. if you close your eyes and just let yourself fall freely of chains and of thought, and just simply allow one’s self to just be, you will live. JANEisnotplain 2.5.11

i want

2011-02-05T13:20:00.001-06:00

0330am : i want

i want to be missed, without being known.// i want someone who will take my mind and/intertwine it with theirs;/ who will stare into my eyes/ until we reach infinite moments.//

i want [finger]painting at 4am/ and nostalgic butterflies coated in musk.// i want meaningful love making /in the midst of the crowd..// i want my breath to be devoured.//

i want to taste the trees/ the bark.// i want someone to listen and/ someone to show me/what is not visible.// i want to explore [ ]/ them.// us.// show me [ ] am real/ and exist.//

i want to be released.// i want my mind to be let free.// i want to feel everything.// fingers on [ ] spine.// i want bites on my neck.// i want warmth and care.// i want beautiful minds.

JANEisnotplain 2.5.11

for the want ad project

0330am thankful

2011-02-05T08:53:00.000-06:00

thankful:

for hot baths and the / hot water heaters that / reach boiling points and/ soak into my skin in a /most painfully pleasant /way. // for pencils and erasers/ but more so for pens and / the fact that ink does not /erase so it forces me to / accept what i write even /if it’s honest, raw or ugly.// for acceptance from and / for the people in my life/ who take me exactly as/ i am and swallow me /whole.// for sleep and for the / [ ] that help[s] me sleep/the coffee that wakes me/up on nights i cannot sleep.// for changes in me and others in the world for/ new opportunities and the/ never ending row of doors waiting/ to be opened by me.//

JANEisnotplain 0330 am 1.28.11

gematria

2010-12-09T12:04:00.004-06:00

gematria

some might think i am purposefully odd

because i sometimes assign num[b]er[s]ic

concepts to letters. can i read your

digits? some nights i cant sleep. like

words are keeping me awake tonight.

all kinds of random words behaving

like cognizant quantum part[s]icles

and dancing outside of linear time.

they seem pointless yet interrelated.

death and depth are separated by one

phoneme. like tide and time. so close.

yet we pray for depth and whisper about

death. how would it feel? the texture of

words on my fingers. it seems too risky

to put one’s linguistic identity into an

arithmetic lexicon. its cliché. like

reincarnated rainbows transformed into

polygot integers that can only attempt

to describe chromatic iridescence. our

language is unstable. this is certain.

merging is now colliding. presence is now

absence. has a mathematical shift occurred

in linguistic process? could it be that this
gematria is a little bit correct?

some might think that i am irregular.

but it is not me that is falling apart.

i am actually connecting the dots one two

together. building [ ] mathematically.

JANEisnotplain 12.9.10

art is sex

2010-12-07T16:41:00.000-06:00

art is sex

this is foreplay. arousal stimulated by

flirtation of ideas and an exchange of

vulnerabilities in the language of pre-

verbal space.

i don’t have to speak again. i don’t

need to entertain at this moment. i

am intoxicated with the pitch, tone,

and composition of your rhythm.

violets tremble at the edge of glass

unbuttoning tongues and uncorking

breaths. lips wrap in throbbing lyrics.

fire alarms may sound.

don’t run. this is not a cliff it is a

platform. it is a very intellectually

intimate fucking of [ ] senses. it is

the vernacular over easy.

[ ] art is sex. it has volume and velocity.

like a sweet and sugary cereal on sunday.

it is surprising just how little control we

have over something so elemental to us.

these vagabond rendezvous are like

secrets between silences. casualties

between catastrophes. i relish these

strange moments of [ ].

i am uncoiled between temptation and

trouble. i wonder, darling, if rain turns

to thunder or if, there was lightening in

the middle of the day could you stand it?

you kiss [ ] incrementally and unfold

soft affirmations as if still willing to

lay all mistakes at shaking feet and

outstretched charge.

to my left is a teacup. to my right is a

crucifix. ahead are tangled branches.

my fingers follow lines and form words

your jeans are nice. i like your [h]ips.

JANEisnotplain 12.10

sunrise

2010-10-30T18:52:00.002-05:00

sunrise

safer than depth, an untouched morning

glances into quiet azure space actively

passively formed from pristine edges.

subject lines align with flower cusps

pregnant with the last night’s dew[y]

composure of young daylight.

a rinsed creed lifts projected daylight

onto a crowd of actors from a prior play;

an unnatural selection gathering fiction.

the tripod lasts beyond the photograph

but in the lens you can hear my memory

gaze, surrender and frame the sunrise.

JANEisnotplain 10.30.10
after Q Studios Halloween

FALL

2010-10-19T07:30:00.004-05:00

FALL

fall lies within the final sentence of the year’s paragraph

like the smoldering ash of a semicolon, or the flick of a pen.

one leaf in the mounds of leaves burns by the roadside like

the many letters of a lost lover, set ablaze by a waning sun.

if winter is the season of solitude then fall must therefore be

the lonliness that precedes it as in a season of proper longing,

wind blown confessions, silent penance and spring’s regrets.

fall is but punctuation in a beautifully tragic form as its days

grow shorter and collars instinctively turn themselves up toward

the brilliance of an orange sky abandoned now by sun sweetened

kisses and warm embraces.

the charred remains of summer with its forgotten words and

guilty pleasures turn now like colors. now shifting,now drifting,

now depleting themselves of affection until reaching the crisp

translucency of winter.

JANEisnotplain 10.17.10

THEORY #2...inprogress

2010-10-03T12:11:00.001-05:00

dear unexpected:

2010-06-03T15:58:00.002-05:00

dear unexpected lover:

good morning beautiful. would you hold my hand?
spin me around on an emotional rollercoaster? drag
my face into the pavement, let my body swing into
anything and everything. break my bones and squeeze
me. twist and turn the way your emotions do. make
me scared. make me cry. you fucking bitch. then
leave me. nauseated. the ride is over. the ride is over.
oh thank god. this fucking ride is over.

do you wanna go again?

love, JANEisnotplain 6.10

unlocking JANE

2010-05-15T14:36:00.003-05:00

unlocking Jane

lately the words in my head

have been very loud. banging

sometimes without any rhythm.

sometimes to my pulse, my

lust. but i am all in my [head].

my words are constantly chattering.

often they awaken me to my Self

having a heated conversation with

Self answering my own questions

about colors, conundrums, and the

uselessness of sentence structure.

individually they are each only

words. tiny, miniscule capsules

of expressions that i re-use, re-

think, re-cycle, re-call, re-order,

into thoughts, breaths, and ideas.

compressed into columns and

constructs on notion bound pages.

they want to build new stories,

these words. they come at me.

all with hidden agendas, thoughts,

wants,and needs. they are tortured,

enunciated, played out, stacked up

but still trying most desperately to

conjugate a new sentence or to

complete a smile.

i use words. not legs to seduce. hard

bound shapely words like [anticipation].

to expose doors and open windows wide

to confess that this is what i want is my

words to make you feel my thoughts my

touch. i am more than black ink on white

paper.

i carry my words close as if i may

need them any moment, day ,hour,

minute, second, if we all fall down.

and i draw the delusional curtains and

sing private lullabies under the guise of

infinite and the definition of struggle.

i hope no one notices that. i am these

words. raw. chaotic. complex. kinetic.

superfluous. scribbled. even beautiful.

sometimes running on from sentences

and metaphors. slight in frame. distorted

in look they pour out undefined. unlabled.

JANEisnotplain 5.15.10

happy birthday: for maria

2010-04-17T15:59:00.000-05:00

happy birthday

another year closes on the world
like an hour, like a second and
something momentous WILL occur
with the stroke of the hour hand
like reaching the pinnacle of
a sand dune in the sahara
or….

For maria andersson on her 28th birthday
8.14.08

gardening

2010-04-12T11:07:00.003-05:00

gardening

down on one knee i

pull up handfuls of

wet grass. i push

it and squeeze it be

-tween my fingers

in the hope that a

surprise will emerge

perhaps a secret from

a colorful cosmos now

buried deep beneath

my feet pleading to be

set free to find the sun-

shine and the spring

down on one knee i

am telling myself that

it’s a rather slippery

slope this searching

sort of thing but i dig

on through the winter

scars toward a fragile

newness.

JANEisnotplain 4.10.10

self portrait # 37: perspective

2010-02-15T13:07:00.001-06:00

photo also JANEisnotplain

this is what it is like to be alone.

squinting fingers hang on near ledges

uncertainty stares up at me like old times

nothing whispers over fallen shoulders

i feel liberated and possible.

JANEisnotplain 2.15.10

1500 1.31.10 60608

2010-02-01T15:21:00.001-06:00

lists

2010-01-19T16:49:00.002-06:00

lists

i keep a laundry list

of things to be done

before i am the person

that i want to be.

things like eat less,

drink more water,

become a vegetarian,

pay my taxes on time,

donate a pint of blood,

finish the crossword,

cure [stupidity] cancer

write something profound.

i wonder if you

can tell that i am

working on myself

but not for you?

i keep a laundry list

of things most people

worry about but with

only a few things

crossed off.

when i reach the bottom

i will have only one

more task to fulfill.

~~leave.~~

JANEisnotplain 1.10

snowflakes

2010-01-02T15:20:00.000-06:00

snowflakes

there are snowflakes as big as my heart and
they catch as globs in angry jealous winds
naked souls dancing through tree tops quivering
frozen in soft kisses around cold little feet
currently vulnerable waiting for warm hands
to defrost my fragile chest gently sneaking
through my window there is beauty. there is
wonder. there is faith. there are snowflakes.

JANEisnotplain

1.2.10 am

driving insanity until dawn

2010-01-01T15:31:00.002-06:00

0745am 2010: driving insanity until dawn

i am at a borderline.// my personality meets me halfway.// but i am still Myself.//

i am at that /place where thoughts grow/ragged/and bending light/shifts through

words creating spaces.//

if i were to leave this space.// if i were to disappear into .// broken atmospheres/

of the past/ of the future/ of the present/ crossing.// between/blurred boundaries

and textured contours?//

space is an illusion of/ depth and movement.// and my left foot is racing my right.// in horizontal timed rhymes/but i am still Myself.// standing with this disorder/ in order.//

i am an intersection/of zeros and ones/ at a border a/ cross between/ my life lines and sky lines.// but i am still Myself.//i am driving insanity/ toward the sunrise.// released.//

JANEisnotplain

begun on 12/28/09, finished 1/1/10 at 0745am on carroll st.

BWiles Photography: Artist Bio

2009-12-03T18:57:00.002-06:00

Brian Wiles is a photographer whose work brings that which is not readily visible, to the surface. His camera is the lens with which he investigates the effects of light and line on an otherwise ordinary landscape. Rather than simply record his environment, Brian interprets it by crafting a unique interface with the viewer through his mastery of composition and perspective. His technique incorporates the very definition of light as the essential condition of vision. The result is a beautifully unexpected palate of texture and rhythm intimately framed in an innovative perception that invites the viewer to actively participate and appreciate.

Brian’s work has been featured in …

for an upcoming west town gallery showing

JANEisnotplain 12/09

revelation at 0400am

2009-07-18T14:12:00.001-05:00

revelation

4am or one hour before the
beginning of the end of time
and i feel a sad dream falling
slowly through dimly lit trees like
petals of white papers with black
words touching innocent sheets
on the line in the shadows between
truth and deception, good and bad
melting into an aged rain that
bathes the grass at dawn with
the spit of shallow weeds and
medicated repetition as the
so[u]l[e]s of my shoes become the
legs of my jeans and the day/i
surface[s] gasping for air and light

5am another inch of time creeps out
of fragments of broken monuments to
step forward into fragile enlightenment
trembling under fresh green skies
orange horizons fall eternally backward
into silver ribbons of sun awake

6am sweep the patio clean,
lie to the earth, swallow the spaces
stop chasing citrus thoughts with
bittersweet aftertastes and just
gather up all the blue lemons,
add happiness, stir, and
make some lemonade.

copyright JANEisnotplain 7.09

---from the 0330am series

abstract

2009-05-13T18:04:00.001-05:00

abstract

hotel room. i am lying. on the bed.
my brain. connections sparking in
my eyes. a black berry stain. on a
white dress. altered. a butterfly in-
side a glass bottle. transparent.con-
tain[t]ed. chaos is beautiful.like the
strings on a cello.floating face down.
black cat. green skeletons. blue air.
fog. rain. sunshine.twice. the sunshine.

JANEisnotplain 0325am 5.8.09

expose

2009-04-18T17:14:00.001-05:00

expose

to bare
to confess
to disclose
to divulge
to exhibit
to lay open
to make known
to present
to reveal
to show
to view
to unveil
to unmask
to uncover

there is implied danger and vulnerability in exposure
yet, there is a certain freedom in choosing exposure

JANEisnotplain 4.18.09

self portrait #25: artist

2009-04-18T10:49:00.000-05:00

self portrait #25 : artist

as an artist, i live,
by necessity, on
slim hope and/or
fickle inspiration
so luckless paths
are no stranger to
me. when i discover
my partner is dead
i just go on alone.

JANEisnotplain 4.13.09

in reference to the current state of medicine.

de-fragmented

2009-04-04T15:01:00.001-05:00

de-fragmented

the keyboard is unfeeling and
the words are darwinian evolutions
perhaps even freudian re-volutions

there is only the exit and the clock
the monitor no longer sees or saves

self

i am
this file
is un-solvable
or should that be salvageable?

up-grades, up-dates, down-loads
automate, populate, disseminate

my mind ticks and clicks
while it waits for its reboot

JANEisnotplain 4.09

insomniac writings at 0323am

self portrait # 21 : free time

2009-03-27T12:08:00.000-05:00

self portrait # 21 : free time

my soul is made of tissue paper and words that
i have dreamed of capturing on paper to set me

free

i am a thousand faces in a crowded street
following in footsteps that have not yet been made
i reach for trees from porch steps to feel their glow
sink into my rhythm and imbibe their colors
i inhale the soft ocean and exhale hues and shades
i like to watch the sky connect the clouds of mind
dancing in doorways connecting joy and discord
i fall inside/outside the patterns of repetitious heartbeats
singing an echo of an ever changing life-

time

JANEisnotplain 3.27.09

completed while enjoying the ocean in miami

self portrait #35: thirty-five

2009-03-19T15:41:00.000-05:00

self portrait # 35 : thirty five

each new year is
crowding out the last.

soon, i’ll be alone in
a room full of selves
i have never met.

JANEisnotplain 3.19.09

happy birthday

stain

2009-02-09T17:21:00.001-06:00

stain

you never think of
the fruit of a rose
the flower is too dark
and wonderful and you
forget its only a prelude.

rose hips stain the snow
now,like blood splatter and
you should be warned that
her kiss will leave toxins
soaking in your skin.

JANEisnotplain 2.09

1.20.09 CHANGE

2009-01-20T15:01:00.001-06:00

1.20.09 CHANGE

every everything
is available to
every [thing and] one

abstract concrete
hidden showing
[time space]
conservation symmetry
united survival

we are happy and sad
hopeful and desperate
by choice of thought
observation and attention

this is a magnificent and
sobering responsibility

now is then and
this is now and
intelligent people
[places things]
realize now and then
is never ever
[always]

JANEisnotplain 1.20.09

on the inauguration of america’s first black president

2009-01-17T19:36:00.002-06:00

i miss

i miss making her smile, dancing on her toes, sharing a meal. i miss late night journies, hot showers together. i miss holding her until she fell asleep, waking up to her music. i miss her touch, feeling safe in her arms. i miss her voice, her eyes, the way she made me feel. i miss her hands, her laugh, her stomach, her stubbornness. i miss the way my heart would pound when she walked in the room. i miss being in love with my best friend.

there is something about her that makes the spaces of my heart seem insufficient.
but she must know this: that i am neither gullible nor blind.
i know what she did, and i know who she did it with.
so what really is there to miss?

JANEisnotplain 1.09

self portrait #13

2008-12-26T16:22:00.002-06:00

self portrait # 13

i am i and no one else.
i am the sum of atoms and
a sum of seconds. i cannot
transfer completely to someone else.

i string words with care
and pisceanly realize that
things can be communicated in
other more complete ways.

i have depth of beauty in form and ideas.
i am not a highheelstitbitch.
i wear flats among dandelions
and sometimes that is all.

art saves me from science. and
science saves me from art.

i have all the right potentials.
i just need an equal to
close circles in me.

JANEisnotplain 12.26.08

for the want ad project

mathematics

2008-12-08T12:22:00.001-06:00

mathematics

mathematics is considered a dry discipline
depleted of life. devoid of emotion.
alive in weird scientific minds.
guarded by chaos.

mathematics is a higher order
of clarity and holy reference
a swirl of countable channels
for primitive line segments to
manifest in didactic series
of misguided well intentioned
left-handed-ness.

but mathematics really is a
beautiful means of calculating
abstract concepts infinite-ly
intense non-sense on the
relationship binding slope
of tangent line to the area
below the curve to the unseen
notion of sums overflowing
with wanting.

mathematics is simply beautifully complex

JANEisnotplain 12.8.08

November 4, 2008

2008-11-28T16:36:00.002-06:00

November 4, 2008

obama. hopefulness. past present future. a humbling beginning. emotional light-headedness. a tingling reality. mania. vibrance, resonance, reciprocity. the un-calm of a generation. limitless.

JANEisnotplain 11.08

"BLACK AND WHITE"

2008-10-19T20:20:00.002-05:00

this project explores the idea of color and the emotions that colors evoke. combining the theory of chromotherapy and text, this project is intended to push the audiences boundaries and comfort zones utilizing only two very minimal colors.

please share

JANEisnotplain october08

"BLACK & WHITE"

VALEDICTION

2008-10-08T13:16:00.001-05:00

Valediction

dear r:

there are mornings i dive deep beneath my consciousness
and hammer until solid at things that i will say when
i catch you unguarded and surrendering to my presence
[ as i surrendered to you].

hypothetically, this moment is ours
but if i approach you from inside
[as you approached me]
with my hands around your neck
[as yours were around mine]
and lean in to allow the light to reflect from
my eyes will reflect in yours.
cheek bones in slow contact,
brushing you with trepidation
[“so close, but how?”]

valediction.

i have nothing to say.
i have only to remind you
that you were never up to me.

copyright JANEisnotplain 10.08

gut rehab

2008-09-28T17:05:00.001-05:00

gut rehab

this moment was coming.

tearing everything in half
was necessary. [love] things spilled
onto the floor. marbles fell and
scattered, rolling out of the door.

the pots and pans clanged,
papers shuffled, years built
collapsed.

i tried to super glue, nail,
hammer, cement and screw.

i will sandpaper, shim,
and paint until nothing
original is recognizable
anymore.

copyright JANEisnotplain 9.08

on trying to live after R.

Reflections

2008-09-07T20:26:00.004-05:00

Reflections

i am trying to understand how your heart operates. it is a remarkable machine, hurriedly competing over scarce resources, including, but not limited to, love by way of lust.

you are devoid of power, devoid of control, snatching it wherever you find it unguarded. and this stands as a barrier to your ability to participate in love.

you live life with a suspect heart that is manifested in a dramaturgic analysis of love within love.

and you can come, and come, and come to the same conclusions as i:

this is no longer [about] love.
this is not [about] humanity.

this is anthropology.
this is science.

the solution to your love[less] life is:

a redemption of the infrastructure of your heart as it is operating from finite resources, including but not limited to physically and emotionally violent men.

it is volcanic, an eruption for disaster.
it has turned your heart blue, then olive, gray, orange, then cold, steel.

my obsession with your machination proved to be detrimental to my survival, you see. i found little truth on which to live in your mechanical metal heart and so died. but not before seeing a reflection in the mirror of its hardened walls.

yes. you, and i, we were real. but my time as your tortured heart has become exhausted, outmoded.

and as you read the cold disconnect of my words, i am sure that you feel me in a way that you never felt me before. you won’t feel me again.

self portrait #15: post r

2008-09-07T17:17:00.002-05:00

self portrait #15: post r

vital signs

pulse: irregular; uneven

pressure: heavy ; onerous

respirations: shallow; choking

saturation: depleted; empty

temperature: hot; cold

physical exam

head: unclear; with evidence of trauma

eyes: crying; unfocused

heart: bruised; some parts absent

lungs: black; unclean

abdomen: ulcerated; raw

extremities: amputated; immobile

neurologic: short circuited

assessment/impression

septic

decaying

dying

CUT

2008-08-29T10:44:00.001-05:00

cut

my eyes are red from the inside out from the way my brain is crying
they are lodged like a smoke clogged traffic jam in my throat
i can feel the poison, invisible as it is, creep into my lungs
a cold monoxide of frozen blue/black preying on the warmth of heart

i wish i could cremate my heart and jump start it with the fuel of ashes
blow the black flakes everywhere and make it snow with fire

i want to escape these veins, these millions of capillaries which
soak my essence like a sponge, a vampire of foaming hexagons that
hold hostage my blood, the compassion that is my greatest pain

i want it out, this feel[th]ing someone has left in me
maybe just another sigh, another cough just to
blow my soul out like a forest through the eye of a needle

i am distracted throughout the day
i keep forgetting that i am supposed to talk, walk
and let the electricity run courses through my circuits
turn off, turn around, or turn the corner

i only wanted to fill my spaces with birds and trees,
flowers and butterflies that would sing me lullabies
and cradle me like the only baby doll in the world

instead i am coming close to roaming where the
periods mingle with the question marks

she cut me.
how could she?
how could she cut me?
out.

dear r: 8.16.08

2008-08-17T17:28:00.000-05:00

8.16.08

dear r:

it was just the two of us
our sex and our despair
all day (accompanied by
a few other pleasures, sins).

photographs and shots, just
bits of pretending to be okay
for moments at a time.

there was dancing and singing
there was food and music but
mostly, there were lots of things
under the surface that cannot
be explained or simplified
under the influence of anything
more than a certain pain that
mostly goes unspoken because
words are just too simple.

JANEisnotplain 8.16.08

on not making love, i know its over.

monophyletic evolution

2008-07-23T12:28:00.002-05:00

love + natural selection = evolution

life. domain. kingdom.
phylum. class. order.

p2 + 2 p q + q2 = 1

family. genus. species.
hybrid. variety. Aberration.

JANEisnotplain 7.08

where p is the frequency of dominant
where q is the frequency of recessive

self portrait # 18

2008-06-22T16:37:00.002-05:00

self portrait # 18

how do [we]/i define [our] my
SELF?

[ i .] as a perversion of sub-consciousness

[ii.] as an abstract discovery of continuity implicitly plicate with complexity

[iii.] as a metamorphosis forthcoming

JANEisnotplain 6.21.08

self portrait #17

2008-06-15T20:45:00.001-05:00

self portrait #17

i don’t consider [my] Self
to be [any] Thing or Person
in partic[u]le [ar] other than
[my]Self

yet here i am in my
physical reality relying
on this existence of
all matter in order to
continue to matter
no matter the person
or partic[u]le [ar]
[con] sequence
my matter will never
be destroyed but rather
assimilated into infinite
energy embraced by
matter [less] external consciousness

i am
where time and space are
just monitors of infinity
[no] Thing[s] exists singly
but as particles of
awareness and [Be]ing that
transcends making [Be]lieve

in [my] Self

JANEisnotplain 6.08

ohm's law

2008-05-11T14:33:00.001-05:00

ohm’s law

I = V/R

current, flow, tide, now , existing, present, [oc]curence= voltage, potential energy, conceiveable ability, aptitude, excitement, possiblity/ resistance, opposition, reluctance, antipathy, antagonism

P = V * I

power, influence, force, authority, passion, pleasure, love, will = voltage, potential energy, conceivable, ability, aptitude, excitement, possibility * current, flow, tide, now, existing, present,[oc]currence

JANEisnotplain 5.08

music & poetry

2008-05-10T13:59:00.001-05:00

music and poetry

sometimes music is like hard poetry
obscure, obfuscating, obsidian
[un]familiar sounds composing

it sounds like god more
than like anything real

dante did not inspire me
but mahler chases dante
down the rabbit hole
like a slipping fugitive
running
tripping
shrieking
pursued by a maniacal
swarm of flutes and
one first violin
a devilish tritone
that pulls at your
heart explodes to
escape their chests
and lose the pulsing blast
of trombone on skin
low brass battling

sometimes poetry is like difficult music
straightened up with lofty analysis
adagietto, rondo, fugue

a symphonic poem of
harmonic tape
euphoric gauze
two bright cymbals
suspending in a paradise
the artist can
sometimes almost understand

sometimes music and poetry
are like [in] love

JANEisnotplain 5.10.08

dear r 5.3.08

2008-05-03T20:10:00.003-05:00

5.3.08

dear r,

i imagine escaping like this
with laughter sealed in the hollow of your collar bone
and fingers on the friction slope of your lips
cursive kept under your tongue like a love letter

i want a rush of consonants and vowels
and footsteps i cant retrace

but instead i have
notebooks to balance with percentages
schedules to show up for on time
miles to cover without a breath
things to stumble under

i smile
i talk effervescence
but i still cant find enough cotton
to fill this small hole
which whistles with sadness when i exhale

i don’t remember how to live without you
but i am, i am, i am

JANEisnotplain 5.08

r's response

dear e,

i've imagined escaping like this
with laughter echoing through empty halls
and fingers on instruments that no one hears
my tongue moving with every solitary song

i want a rush of ideas and dreams
recorded to visit again and again

and now i have
schedules to show up for on time
routines to settle into
fresh air to breathe
balconies to relax on

i smile
i sing effervescence
i weave the rainbow of my dreams
around my aching heart
to heal the lonely spaces

i still live within you
and you are in me, in me, in me

photo by brian wiles

self portrait # 16

2008-05-03T20:07:00.001-05:00

self portrait # 16

dear editor:

please accept this submission
not because [i]t is good but
because i am afraid of not being what they predicted
because i am a sparrow trying to fit in amongst lions
because i am more of a semi-colon than a period
because my poems are blown more like opaque glass than broken pearls
because i am a finger-painting they have created
because last night velazquez spoke to me in the present progressive
and told me to patch the roof with risk and intention
please accept this submission because
god help me, i have tried

JANEisnotplain 5.08

dear r: run ons

2008-04-26T16:47:00.000-05:00

dear r,

quietly and unremarkably love you, i
practice being where i am if i invent
you i already learned a way to recollect
the major moments of happiness, the minor
tree branch, the live wings changing
how our lawn poses statu[e]s of collective
nouns imposed thus far without such various
coordinating conjunctions are not equal
to the task is being, knowing and
valuing whole this is here, so this
embedded presence defines present tense
as real and legitimate with and
without each other
one of us

JANEisnotplain 4.08

after one full month apart

untitled letter

2008-04-25T12:41:00.002-05:00

dear –

you think you’ve pinned me.
but you haven’t. you haven’t at all.
perhaps i could do with fewer masks
but you could do with a closer, less judgmental look

copyright JANEisnotplain 4.08

4 am insomnia

2008-04-25T10:22:00.000-05:00

4 am insomnia

the cherry of my cigarette
lies bright like a piece of soul
under the sky that is an ocean
just waiting to fall

the clouds roll lazily by
briefly blanketing the stars
smeared across the sky
like divine fingerprints

this night is cotton swabs
on lives left behind
chapters as yet unfinished in
books as yet to be written

how long it has been
since i paid attention
to the images my eyes
are shyly showing my mind

there s a space for me
in the lining of the sky
its just waiting for the day –
light

copyright JANEisnotplain 4.08

after awakening from the usual nightmare

F = ma*

2008-04-20T19:55:00.002-05:00

F = ma*

the lines of light follow the
destination of coveted importance
reliance on the slimming derivatives
of newton’s escapism is so
far beyond cognition that
it may in fact be light years
away from chemical bound sanity
such that if nirvana came in a pill form
the reality of abnormalities
would in fact be infinite

*where F is force, m is mass and a is acceleration

copyright JANEisnotplain 4.2o.08

4.20.08 untitled.

2008-04-20T19:43:00.003-05:00

4.20.08 untitled.

there is a difference
amid the blues and greys
the blues and reds
the black[s] and white[s]
in the yellows of day but
its difficult still
to find the ephemeral dissident
in my temporary but hopeful
abs[tin]ence

copyright JANEisnotplain 4.08

--from the 0330am revelations notebook

the church

2008-02-29T17:43:00.000-06:00

the church

denial
hypocrisy
fetishism
narcissism
intolerance
dissociation
mental passivity
self indulgent
spreading of guilt
the denial of the body
hate for the tangible world
psychotic celebration of fabricated realms
the hypertrophy of the disembodied mind
the regimentation of free thinking under the dogma of truth
the brothels of spirit
the church

JANEisnotplain

reflected: dear e

2008-02-29T17:09:00.001-06:00

reflected:

dear e,

we didn’t look the same after medical school.
you looked like hell. and i looked like haggard.

pieces cut and sutured from our anatomic
-ally philosophical hearts stapled to the wall in surgery rm. 8.

all the on-call shifts. and oh. all the sterile hands. i used
to look like beauty in the back seat of your.

you used to resemble a promise
passed between lips in an exchange.

and there was a time. when it was something
i believed in dry runs and secrets and all the kisses.

and all the never tells. but not now.
time for work.

as always.

copyright JANEisnotplain 12/06

on not making it to the alter with e.

about

2008-02-29T16:39:00.000-06:00

about ….

she was always the one to
smile and softly say forever

but instead they became
typewriter keys too stiff to press
and ripped bands of black cartridges

she’s distanced her eyelashes from his cheek
but he’s still staring through her stained glass
words broken, transparent, colored

if her body was a wire she would strangle
but for the inability to wrap
her fingers around his

if she were comatose
she wouldn’t leave him like this

she doesn’t want to escape him
not really, i don’t think so

instead, she runs
and he’ll just refuse to leave

JANEisnotplain .05
completed 2.08

about k and r

to do list

2008-02-28T10:42:00.001-06:00

to do list:

study studies on the results of previous studies
realize our potential potential
stake out claims on the future
worry about what to worry about
democratize the USA
demilitarize outer space
welcome latino immigrants at the border
bomb our way to an “endurable” peace
change course
move the party to a more radical center
spread plutocracy
recognize our deepest wants, needs, wishes
free the slaves
find time to clean the house

JANEisnotplain 2.08

linear circles

2008-02-27T15:51:00.000-06:00

linear circles

in space substance is moving
this produces the illusion of error of time
moving substance is absolute relativity
where substance and movement are the same
seeing and hearing and light and sound
is linear and circular and every line is
is just the diameter of some circle

JANEisnotplain 2.08

space

2008-02-23T20:20:00.001-06:00

space

she’s obsessed with the
concept of space and
what not enough
of it can do
to a person and i

i see the space between
shared syllables but we
can exist simultaneously
on the same plane

i am learning to re-wire
my nature with hers and
i’ve got strong hands
built entirely of ink that
hold a guarded heart

while clouds and colors
separate in the sky i wait

montreal 2/17/08, she asks for privacy while vocalizing

JANEisnotplain

2008-02-04T21:30:00.000-06:00

WHAT
CANIDOO
RSAYTOMAK
ETH ESVISIONS
GOAW AYCLOSEMYEY
ESBUTI CANSTILLH
EARYOU SA YIT

JANEisnotplain 2.08

2008-01-07T07:58:00.000-06:00

infinite illusion

(is)
the basis for all measurement = relativity

(and) (is)

energy + mass = absolute relativity

(is)
absolute relativity = a relative moment

(is) (and)
a relative moment = time + space

(and) (and)
time + space = form + substance

(and) (is) (reality)
form + substance = a relative illusion

we can imagine and believe that
these equations answer all of our questions
why and how, when and where
even what but,

there is no objective reality
it has been completely, discretely displaced
by many layers of deception
that is nothing more than misconception
or in reality, an infinite illusion

JANEisnotplain 1.08

dear r: equations

2008-01-07T07:55:00.000-06:00

dear r:

who am I?
x = y

you are me
x2 = xy

you are a part of each of us
x2- y2 = xy – y2

we are less without each other
(x-y)(x+y) = y(x-y)

but, are we not each separate?
x + y = y ?

if you look beyond, we are actually the same
2y = y

and you will see who I am
2 = 1

love,

JANEisnotplain 1.05.08

2007-11-10T20:21:00.001-06:00

reoccurring d(th)rem(e)s

there it is again,
that numbing pain,
clawing and scratching for air
but there it is again

i am so close to falling
i am so close to slipping

i am sin in its most beautiful glory
a deep dichotomy shed from pretense
i am attached to something
i cannot completely understand
and simply cannot begin to let go

you are sugar, perfect, sweet,
whispers of things i want to believe in

i ask questions in practiced euphoria
i find answers i didn’t want to hear
but there it is again

your puzzle pieces are scattered
around you pretend are not true

i am standing on the verge
of something greater than myself

love
you

JANEisnotplain 11.07

KIRA'S THESIS

2007-09-15T00:23:00.000-05:00

kira’s thesis

nothing grows
not fruit
not flowers
nothing until…

her hand touched dirt
awakened the dead
barren to fertile
soil to soil
soil to….

copyright JANEisnotplain 9.07

R.I.P.

self portrait #12

2007-08-14T23:44:00.000-05:00

self portrait #12

i reinvent the wheel
on my days off because
“an idle mind is useless”

but my mind tends to
insidiously torment and
self destruct in tandem

so i hide myself behind
this surreptitiously placed
cloak of pronouns and
strategically placed pretenses

i reinvent the wheel
on my days off because
using the first person really
forces reality onto my place

and the rest has already
been said before on
my days off

copy right JANEisnotplain 8/07

untitled 6/12/07

2007-06-12T15:14:00.001-05:00

untitled 6/07

you are clad in the form you have chosen
and there is a delay of expectancy in your eyes,
the trepidation of a filly wearing a Sunday dress

but as trendy as you may appear,
you are the first one
not to be persuaded by your masquerade
i am the embarrassed second

what chimerism may occur with camoflauge?

copyright JANEisnotplain 6/12/07

on her response to my announcement

words

2007-06-05T09:53:00.001-05:00

words

i praise words
until the sky opens
i plead with words
until lace appears
i prime words
with greasy meter
i preen words
under lines of cover
i paste words
onto absorbent paper
i present words
to men who work
i point words
at politicians
i push words
like dust across the floor
i pillage words
until they bleed
i peel words back
until they crack
i pinch words
until they squeal
i push words down
until there are none left
i press words under
until they cant breathe
i pack up my words
into notebooks no one reads
i promise my words
to no one

copyright JANEisnotplain 6/07

E ≠ i + y

2007-05-09T20:27:00.000-05:00

E ≠ i + y

E represents to me
the sum of the
two I(s)/ eye(s)
we once had
and between them is Y
but Y has lost its meaning
a satellite, sometimes consonant
a question, an answer
lost now in the periphery
until even the E of ego
goes and leaves me
the only I.

copyright JANEisnotplain 5/07

i want

2007-04-20T15:07:00.000-05:00

i want

i want to lick the sunshine from your arms
while drinking a glass of sun with
artificial sweetener swirls
inside of my mixing emotions

i want to smile the way you do
with tints of golden yellow daisy petals
that water glide on belief, love, hope, serenity
and stick to reflections of eye

i want to walk in dry sandals
when the earth rotates its tears
skipping over the details and heading straight
to hopscotch drawings of chalk hearts

but i falter with every other step
forgetting how to tie my shoelaces
tripping on sidewalks covered in thorns
each cut bleeding me one more step
closer to illumination?

copyright JANEisnotplain 4.07

on discussing rhonda byrne's "THE SECRET"

eloveye

2007-03-04T16:10:00.000-06:00

eloveye

el ov
i take the L of
life
and i make it I

the L of
love
becomes I

am all

one

copyright JANEisnotplain 3.07

order by control

2007-02-28T15:20:00.000-06:00

order by control

passion in a breath
life in a moment
seeking a truth
living a lie

staying within the lines

it is safer to accept
than to achieve
it is harder not
to believe in god

stay in line, please

untitled 12.06

2007-02-04T12:25:00.000-06:00

untitled 12.06

impulses. (act?)
control. (vanquished?)
slow. (fast enough?)
fast. (slow enough?)
trust. (who?)
mine. (yours?)
yours. (mine?)
rules. (broken?)
fingers. (entwined?)
judgment. (impaired?)
breathe. (more deeply?)
here. (there?)
there. (here?)
move. (closer?)
lips. (touch?)
sanity. (lost?)
dreams. (reality?)
hips. (collide?)
whisper. (i love?)

copyright JANEisnotplain 12.06

for r? for g? for d?

FREYMAN'S INTEGRAL PATHWAY--revised

2007-02-02T16:20:00.000-06:00

freyman’s integral pathway (p,q) = e-1/4 (p+q2)S[(q+ip)/ 2]/ n!

it is the incoherent super-position
of different integral faiths that
destructively interferes with the
language of quantum mechanics

often one encounters integrals
where the exponent is not purely quadratic
from the outset but rather contains
both quadratic and linear pieces

to prove this identity
eliminate the linear term
the constant factor scales a-z
yet quantum mechanics remains
fully present and flexible

[we] insert position and momentum
respectively making use of
the clear rationale behind
the resolution of vector identity

quantum particles have more freedom
than their classic counterparts

all the information about any
autonomous quantum particles
is contained within the matrix
of elements of its time evolution operator

the time evolution operator
describes this dynamic evolution
under the influence of
Hamiltonian time

H = T + V or H = E + R

where R is a positive definite
real symmetric n-dimensional matrix
and V is a real vector diagonalized by
orthogonal transformation into
E, a mono-kinetic Euclidean

as the matrix elements express
amplitude for a particle to
propagate between points
it becomes the propagator
of harmonic oscillation

in the matrix of elements
the discrete set becomes dense
over time and space becomes
a continuous curve

this smooth variation of paths
contributes significantly toward
the motivation and the application
of a limit [less] continuum

proving that u and i may be
independent complex numbers that
need not be related by the
simple conjugation of coherent states and paths integral

only by love.

copyright JANEisnotplain 1.07

FREYMAN'S INTEGRAL PATHWAY

2007-01-29T16:03:00.000-06:00

freyman’s integral pathway (p,q) = e-1/4 (p+q2)S[(q+ip)/ 2]/ n!

quantum particles have more freedom
than their classic counterparts and

all the information about any
autonomous quantum particles
is contained within the
matrix of elements of its
time evolution operator

the time evolution operator
describes this dynamic evolution
under the influence of
Hamiltonian time

H = T + V or H = E + R

where R is a positive definite
real symmetric n-dimensional
matrix and V is a real vector
diagonalized by orthogonal transformation
into E mono-kinetic Euclidean

as the matrix elements express
amplitude for a particle to
propagate between points
it becomes the propagator
of harmonic oscillation

often one encounters integrals
where the exponent is not purely quadratic
from the outset but rather contains
both quadratic and linear pieces

to prove this identity
eliminate the linear term
the constant factor scales a-z
yet quantum mechanics remains
fully present

it is the incoherent super-position
of different integral faiths that
destructively interferes with the
language of quantum mechanics

[we] insert position and momentum
respectively making use of
the clear rationale behind
the resolution of vector identity

in the matrix of elements
the discrete set becomes dense
over time and space becomes
a continuous curve

this smooth variation of paths
contributes significantly toward
the motivation and the application
of a continuum limit [less]

proving that u and I may be
independent complex numbers
that need not be related by the
simple conjugation of
coherent states and
paths integral

only by love.

copyright JANEisnotplain 1.07

self portrait

2007-01-20T19:13:00.000-06:00

I AM

a brush stroke of expectation
a convenient mirror cracked by patience
twisted up in bunches of flowers that
only make me weaker as i try to fill space

I AM

a rubbery poem and the figure to go with it
a shadow you make love to
in order to compose yourself
brick by riddle by brick

I AM

the kind of fire you don’t have to kindle
the flames reflect on waves
the oxygen exists by misgivings
so that every breath i breathe is forgiving

I AM

losing my grip on the graphite that
certifies the sketches in my head
a disaster of nerves battling
starlight and sunrise intentions

I AM

a model of your history
all the things you cant see
you cant remember and i can’t take anymore
just fall in scribbles collapsed on the floor

I AM

your fault

I LIKE THE WAY We...

2007-01-20T18:41:00.000-06:00

crowds

2006-12-26T13:39:00.001-06:00

the

faces

in be faces tw faces ee face [i]n

in

the moments where beauty is sketched on napkins
be

patience and balance are sewn in like stitches

tw

poise and posture are stapled straight to spine

ee

coyness and wit are showered like rose notes

n
muscles are tensed and breathe is held close

the
faces

in faces be faces tw face ee [i]n

the spasms of edited lines, written motives, and timed dialogue

these faces

in faces be faces tw faces ee face [i]n

are what carry

youiandus

dear r project

2006-11-18T14:35:00.000-06:00

dear r,

i want you
(to narrate)
[my waking]

i want you
(to narrate)
[my breaths]

i want you
(to narrate)
[my coffee]

i want you
(to narrate)
[my mornings]

i want you
(to narrate)
[my breakfast]

i want you
(to narrate)
[my laughs]

i want you
(to narrate)
[my shower]

i want you
(to narrate)
[my dressing]

i want you
(to narrate)
[my song]

i want you
(to narrate)
[my dreams]

i want you to-

i choose you to-
i choose you-

too.

copyright JANEisnotplain 11.06

thisyourour-

2006-11-18T13:49:00.000-06:00

dear r,

this-
arrangement

this-
formation

this-
commitment

your –
agreement

your-
employment

your-
subjugation

his-
foundation

his-
governance

his-
involvement

our-
acquaintence

our-
attraction

our-
passion

this-
position

this-
appointment

this-

this really is too crowded.

love,

JANEisnotplain 3.04

on this polyamorous triangle i found myself in.

dear r,

2006-11-18T13:20:00.000-06:00

11.18.06

dear r,

you found me

the part of me
that i know little about
that can speak to you

the part of me
that you want
that seems to know who i am

the part of me
that will challenge who i was
that who that i will become

the part of me
that i can be proud of
that i want to be yours

that part of me
that
wants
you

love,

JANEisnotplain 11.06

2006-11-18T13:03:00.000-06:00

self portrait # 8: asymptote

stack of books
six editions thick
resting on each shoulder blade
weight the pressure

grey damp road
thick white centered line
marking the margins of expectations
balance attributes accordingly charged

baking light
fire from red dust everywhere
causes eyes to cast inward
the heat of fever encapsulates

weak failing medium
un-utilized calculator
living five feet from the ground
drawn in lines of asyptotes

copyright JANEisnotplain 18.11.06

2006-11-18T12:59:00.000-06:00

self portrait # 7: and

and she’s beautiful
and she’s unsettling
and she writes in big words
and she dots i’s and crosses t’s
and she doesn’t want to be touched by just anyone
and she doesn’t want to be seen

and she wants
to be adored
to be idolized
to be felt
to be heard
to be loved intimately

andandandand
and she is writing
and she is living
and she is dying
and she is
and

she
is

and that

is

all

copyright JANEisnotplain 18.11.06

confession

2006-10-28T15:33:00.000-05:00

confession

to love a woman who is
a woman in every sense but
who acts like a man to
the woman who wants to
love the woman in her in every sense
but, i am not a man and
i know this and she knows this

she may play the part of
the shy deviant boy but
i am every hopelessly helpless boy
that i have ever dated, hat in hands
reciting sonnets under balconies,
selling proposals without diamonds
i know this and she knows this

the truth is that,
at the end of the day i am
too complicated, too introverted,
too frustrated, too scared
she is so fearless, so sweet,
so kind, so brilliant
to bring out the lover
she knows is inside me
i know is inside of her

copyright JANEisnotplain 10.20.06

NIGHTMARE

2006-10-22T12:04:00.000-05:00

nightmare

i am running through my
nightmares wearing flip flops
and all i can hear is
breathe, flap, breathe, flap
flap, breathe, breathe, flap
across a cold linoleum floor
stacked with the smell of papers
of books, newspapers, notebooks
slouched in the flickering fluorescent lights
like next year’s junk addicts
flap flap flap flap
breathe!
and if i stop i hear the
buzzing of my PC
sitting and looking at me for answers
just the way i look at myself
just after brushing my teeth
in the morning or in the
evening after listening to
the radio/television propaganda
the semicolon weight of the words
awake!
flap, breathe, flap, breathe

modern american poet

2006-10-18T16:04:00.000-05:00

modern american poet

i am the modern american poet
i graduated from the ivy league of the midwest
where i was taught how to use the thesaurus
and i was encouraged to use big words
to express esoteric concepts
and so i don’t really give a shit
how my art makes you feel
just as long as you think that i’m smart
because i’m so up to my
last can of tuna fish in student loans that
i’ll write anything that sells
honestly, i have no soul
but that’s ok because that may mean
that i’ll become famous someday

i am the modern american poet
i’m reppin from philly and yo
if you aint from around my way
and you don’t know how to
use yo to carry on a conversation
then you ain’t my people and yes,
i write about racism, sure
i mock your divisionist tendencies
while ironically perpetuating them
by changing my vocabulary
but i don’t really give a shit
how my art makes you feel
unless you’re exactly like me
in which case just nod your head
and show me some love because
i’m so up to my eminem album
trying to stay true to the new
hip hop poetic culture that
i’ll write anything just to
increase my street cred
honestly, i have no soul
but somehow the lack of color in my skin
doesn’t stop me from pretending

i am the modern american poet
and don’t really care where you’re from or
from where you graduated because
right now i’m like way into death
and dying and blood and
i don’t really give a shit
how my art makes you feel
because the thought of death’s icy grip
closing in on my existence right now
is way cooler than anything else and
is kinda getting me off so that
i’m so up to my black gothic attire
in angst right now that
i cant even begin to try to reach you
honestly i have no soul
and even if i did, i’d probably
sell it to the devil

i am the modern american poet
have you met my ex boyfriend who
i broke up with three years ago?
how is he? did he mention me?
did he look sad? does he miss me?
despite the tears of agony,
i think i’ll write something about
the irony of hating yet loving someone so much
i really don’t give a shit
how my art makes you feel
as long as you pass me that cover up
i need to powder over my life blemish
i’m so up to my muscle t-shirt in identity crisis
that i’ll write anything that gives me a face
honestly i have no soul
and if i did, i’d rip it out
for one more romp with my ex

i am the modern american poet
SEX SEX SEX SEX
CLITORIS PeNis, clitoris, PENIS
CUNT SEX VAGINA PUSSY
i don’t give a pussy lick of a shit
how my art makes you feel
just as long as my man hating friends
admit to still needing dick
just because.
PENIS CUNT SEX FUCK
i’m so up to my dyke duds
in rage right now that
i can’t talk to anyone who has a penis
so i’m sorry if i can’t relate to you
honestly, i have no soul
because i believe soul is a myth
spread by men to keep the sisters down
feminist clit sex
excuse my tourrettes

i am the modern american poet
i’ve tried so god damned hard
not to become cliché, and
look at me
please, anyone
just look at me

copyright JANEisnotplain 10.06

REVERANT

2006-10-02T15:32:00.000-05:00

reverant

crucifying my thighs
nail my rusted mind
a.cross bearing
pomegranate eyes
inviting baptismal absolution
washed peace

enter through revolver
revolutionary doors
in turn all
internally integrating
the lightness of
be
-ing

copyright JANEisnotplain 10/06

LA PAZ

2006-08-30T20:02:00.000-05:00

LA PAZ

when the violence is over
the dust settles and
the world falls apart softly
to the sound of an acoustic guitar
and if we close our eyes
and we look around
everything is still
so pretty.

copyright JANEisnotplain 8/06

strawberry kisses for r

2006-08-27T13:06:00.000-05:00

strawberry kisses for r

dear r,

i feel like there is a roadblock in my head
like the words are on the other side
but i can’t get close enough to see what they say
because of the blurry lights and bright sounds

but don’t worry sweetheart
the patience that i wear today
like my favorite old t-shirt that’s
worn at the neck line from repeated use
will keep us safe from the cold

i hope that the smile that
just got lost in the camera flash
was one of comfort and understanding
because the kiss that i’m about to offer
will taste like strawberry flavored water

love,

JANEisnotplain 8/06

on bwiles and black and white photography

2006-08-26T17:15:00.000-05:00

filtered cardboard canvasses

there is no proven medium
tangible enough to
pry the smoke from our lips

stifled lines of black and white
crackling with exhaustion filled moments
grasped in 35 mm high grain film

the contrast is the key
the distance between
light/ line/ shadow

protesting and proclaiming starkly
that is what we are/were
at any given 15th of a second

JANEisnotplain 8/06

STRUGGLE

2006-08-26T10:20:00.000-05:00

struggle

there’s blood in the sink
mixed with crest
teeth on the counter
fingerprints on the crossword
a few letters scratched out and replaced
making them all fit together
like a note that
can only be interpreted
by a promethean multi-linguist
in this house of confusion
signs of a struggle

JANEisnotplain 8/06

sinner

2006-08-21T23:19:00.000-05:00

sinner

lust
she never looked good, not enough
force her to apologize for it
objectify your objective

envy
she wasn’t like her, not enough
force her to regret it
jealousy is your justification

wrath
she was never angry, not enough
force her to recognize it
solitude is your solace

greed
she never understood enough
force her to believe it
gain your guidance

gluttony
she simply wasn’t enough, never enough
force her to accept it
hedonism is your hallelujah

sloth
you never loved her, not enough
force her to end it
cowardice is your catalyst

copyright JANEisnotplain 8/06

untitled 7.06

2006-07-27T18:01:00.000-05:00

i wish my mind was a blackboard
and i only had enough chalk to
write poems about you and an
eraser to rub out this poetic nightmare

i am the one you see as a friend
and you are the one i thought i could never have
you are taller, smarter, tastier

i run in circles, medium sized circles
and you’re behind me but i can’t
catch up to you even if you push me

i am the one whose heart always beats
faster, nervous like the first time
i told you i love

so i breathe faster and i count quicker
truth is. i’m anxious.

you scare me. you know how to bruise me.
and i am really quite fragile.

but i can’t tell whether to slow down
or speed up or stop moving and
just stay in one spot until you find me

i need you to search for me.
i need you to find me.

i need to go back outside
and i can’t tell if the straightest distance
between two points is a straight line

or should i just go
down the spiral red slide

copywrite JANEisnotplain 7.06

LIVE BORDERS

2006-07-23T15:05:00.000-05:00

live borders

we eat our sunsets
like anger tasting heartbeats

the edge appears slippery
wet herbs divide dark from light

JANEisnotplain 7/06

on israel vs lebanon

2006-06-22T19:03:00.000-05:00

6.06

my smile has grown lewd with depravity
my growth does not need restraint anymore
i am fed with sour doubt and terror

in soothing words and touches of care
i have felt only poor relief from
the asperity of being and the despair of being not.

suffers the bud under the pressure of fate
to break the sprout and stretch out into the air
to grow accustomed to the confirming confinement.

because i wish to break open the pain
the ice cold blade of thought incises the abscess
perhaps that will free the pleasure?

copywrite JANE 6.06

BACK WaRd bad

2006-05-23T16:54:00.000-05:00

BACK WARD BAD

i like to slide credit cards from
RIGHT to LEFT
which I guess is defined as
BACKWARDS
but every time i do that
the machine beeps and says
BAD CARD
TRY AGAIN!!

why is backwards BACKWARDS?
and why does it register as BAD CARD?
why is BACKWARDS BAD?

why cant both ways be FORWARD?
or better yet
why cant both ways JUST BE?
free of labels
whether BACKWARDS or FORWARDS

why?