ode to love

the density of your eyes lingering

like traces of sugar on a child's fingertips 

the smell of dirt, or motor oil, or clotted blood - still sleeping on your skin

you're like a weight i'll never get tired of carrying

love 

you found my voice in the midst ofd a corn field

in the crackle of a telephone line laid bare on the ocean floor

you will cover her uneven beautiful face

in coins and stretch your arms outward

and try to forgive the bastard who left you on your own again

you will yell into tunnels or empty cups

and the echo will become my dream in a night of no sleep

Old friends

My friend David and I went to watch this action movie with "The Rock" but instead had to see one about a runaway train (really stupid plot but pretty good acting) because I didn't have a proper ID. So much beurocracy now days. Anyway, we played video games and shot hoops in the Metreon waiting for the movie to start. We were laughing like crazy remembering good old Mission High times and the people in the theater who were sitting next to our seats kept turning around to flash us their annoyed faces. Then we walked to the Saint-Francis hotel and rode the elevator up and down like crazy. Then we had another heart to heart conversation, over Panda Express chineese food. He walked me to the bus, but forgot his phone charger in my back pack so he was chasing after it. Ha-ha. "until next time" we said and he hugged me like he's not going to see me ever again :D What a fantastic day! I hope everyone is blessed with at least one good friend, somebody to make you laugh until you cry, somebody who just gets you, somebody you can share your darkest secrets with and know he/she won't ever judge you, somebody in front of whom you never have to pretend... It can happen in a matter of seconds, but friendship lasts for life.

Learning pronouns

I scalded my throat on the heat of the ocean

Swallowed my childhood up in a second

And wanted to keep it

Like a selfish lion-tamer

Sleeping at the foot of the animal’s cage

Feeding it star light/galaxy light

With a spoon

You’re like the ink spreading inside a pen

Waiting to gush out, to become distorted,
Waiting to touch all sides of the world

You’re like a dictionary of words

Everyone wants to own

He is playing chess with the rain

The roof of a car is an audience

He might have been made to invent names for colors
But he will never know
He might be let loose and lost

She fell in love with a box of charcoal

WIth her fingers dipped in ash – she planted

Headaches in her garden,

Her broken ankle healed as she looked to the top

Of the mountain through her basement window

It is a world of walnut shells and

spider nests, lost keys and found smoke

it spins faster than a laundromat

Nobody knows what to call it

So it falls to the ground with a thud
Nobody keeps it entertained so it falls asleep
And stays asleep like a stainWe burry our eyes in sand

We make forts out of blankets and heavy

Ancient books and hide from our flesh
And blood to hold hands in the warm dark
And to kiss awkwardly
You were only you
Now you are what everyone wants you to be
They punctured pomegranate seeds
And taught each other how to let go of fish

without hurting their mouths
they held each other clasped
tight like particles of blood

In his younger days, my grandfather was a merchant ship mariner. He sailed half way across the globe and found ivory pipes, whose tips had once been touched by the lips of African kings; he found wood statuettes [which are now frail and wobbly] of women carrying children on their backs; he drank pulled tea with his newly found Arabian friends. My grandfather discovered the true nature of the hawk, whose claws he cut off after its death. The bird flew with the ship for weeks across the Atlantic, never straying too far from the enormous masts; entertaining the crew.
At nights, some times, enthralled by the light of the fish net, my grandfather would surrender his body to sleep. [I am reminded of this years later, when my little brother is falling asleep on my lap, gently pulling at the sleeve of my jacket (unconsciously), his body uncontrollably shaking to the rhythm of his dream]
About two years ago I received a call from my grandmother, instructing me, her voice lagging behind her words, pleading me to give my phone to my parents so they could talk. A few days later my dad told me that his father had died. Surprisingly, I found little change in his voice. Based on the symptoms I’ve been told, I figure bone marrow cancer.
I wish I knew him better than the stories he told, or the box of post cards he’d sent home. But when I did get to spend time with him, my grandfather and I rarely spoke. We walked the dog, he pushed me on the swings, thought me how to fish. Every morning when he was shaving I would ask to watch, knowing he would pick up the bottle of cream and smear it all over his face then all over mine for no reason, just laughing and laughing. My grandfather would take his jacket off his back to cover me up when I was shivering like a soaking dog, while we watched the cars pass by on the balcony and drank coffee from small cups. I miss not having to talk, not having to pretend all the time.
When I moved here to the U.S, I would call him over the phone, interrupting his mechanical speech he had to repeat over and over because it was part of his job [he was then a parking lot attendant] and picture him breathing a sigh of relief to hear my voice again. I would say: “it’s me grandpa, it’s indi, I miss you very much, and I love you every day”. he would always say: “I love you more, my girl” and make a kissing sound which almost always blasted my ears and filled me with an overwhelming ache because I wasn’t there; but at the same a vibrant joy.
He did not die alone, but I think he was lonely. I think he longed for the past and yearned to see his comrades once again. I think he was afraid, like most people are, not knowing about this place we go to when our breath is long gone. I wish I was there, by his side, reading to him like he read to me when I was little.
My grandfather used to pour liquor on the floor, telling me it’s for all his dead and dying friends. I would do it with him… now I do it for him, just the taste he’d be thirsty for.

I went to my old professor’s open studio today, it was really nice, we made art out of eggs. Definitely check out the events around the height ashbury if you are into things like that! Then went home to tidy up my room. I listened to PHOENIX and sang like no one could hear me, it was fun. Then after I was done my brother and I played soccer in the rain and fought in the wet grass, dropping each other on the ground over and over. Over all it was a good day!!

Some poetry lines:

We are scavenger birds,
Finding the weakest point of the shell
It’s so easy to slip
An old man places his memories
Safely away for the winter
He dresses them in flames
So easy to forget
A girl hides her understanding
On top of a dusty lamp
But every body looks up every once in a while
I can still remember
The indent of your foot in the grass

yours,
back_2_back

Yesterday, one of my best friends manuel hernandez and i went to Macy’s and tried on literally almost every pair of shoes, even the ones with high heels shhh!! lmao; then we smelled perfumes my pockets are full of paper cards I was sniffing on the way back home. We jay walked a busy cross section of market and went to the library to look at photography books by Gordon Parks, splashed in the fountain on UN plaza, had Italian soda at brainwash cafe [which by the way will be the venue for my fav band STONED ON SUNDAYS (this is going to take longer than a page for me to tell you how great they are) , you know just reminding ya'll, they are gonna be playing there on the 30^th!!! Woo!] and finally took the "F" trolley car listening to the same song on his ipod over and over until we got off. LOL.
sometimes words are unnecessary. just being there for each other is all that matters. And for a fraction of the day neither of us felt the need to look at our watches, or to send text messages or even to notice how tired we were
Ok… changing the subject… how incredible and indescribable it feels to have a special someone who can’t wait to see you the next day, someone to help you overcome your fears, make you feel extraordinary and perfectly human at the same time; someone to hug you all the time and tell you you have beautiful years. I never thought I would find out, but I am starting to. Thank you, to (you know who you are) for fulfilling my life, for being your awesome self and many many other reasons, there is a part of you that will never escape me.
Today, I slid on a water slide that dropped me in a part of the pool which was about eight feet deep. It took me 10 minutes to build up the courage to try it. I felt like I wanted to scream but nothing came out. It was scary and fun at the same time! J
I realize this may be too long of an entry for a first blog, but I haven’t written in a really long time so this is coming welling out of me…
Almost every night after my parents come home over dinner, my brother or I share the day’s experiences and always wind up being lectured on life afterwards. Literally yelled at for not making the right decisions at the right time, for being disorganized, for being naïve. Thanks to our parents, we know every single thing we are horrible at, but they never once care to remind us of what we are capable of. They say we both have potential, we have gifts but we are so scattered and distracted that nothing can come out of us, of these gifts. I am not trying to say our parents are mean, or discouraging. They love us, and we love them. They just never take a second to consider our entirely different life styles; they want what’s best for us, but I feel like they don’t know us in order to tell that. I hate that they think they are always right and I hate that neither of us when the moment is presented can think of a really smart argument to rebut lol
I think that’s it for today, more to come on the weekend!
Thank You! Yours truly,
Back_2_back