Hi. Just wanted to let you know I'm transferring nonsensicalifornia from Blogger to Squarespace for a refreshed look and feel.
No need to update your bookmark, though. I'll set up a redirect, so you'll still find all these writings when you visit www.nonsensicalifornia.com.
I transferred all my posts to the new platform, then deleted a few that were kind of eh. Going forward, I'll plan to only post in the new space, but if you really wanted to come back here to read past posts, this Blogger site will still be live at nonsensicalifornia.blogspot.com.
Sunday, October 2, 2016
Saturday, October 1, 2016
sonnets from way back
I've been thinking about what I wrote many moons ago about days like this, Fall days hot and dry. I also wrote a sonnet once about memorizing poems so here's that too.
Sonnet of Autumn
My walking told the waiting birds to flee;
Each step ground crunching grass into the dust.
I wandered, watching; I paused as robins rushed
from brush and hidden branches toward me.
I ducked as they flew, too many to see,
into maple boughs flexing, showing off rust
to the pulsing breeze, panting its lust.
What hills have seen! What sultry company!
The crackles, the coos: the crowing of Fall,
the white fog inching, slithering from shore,
the lizards basking, lingering for sun
until they run back to their heated hall--
Autumn, bring it all. Autumn, give me more.
I'll watch you dance until the pale sky's dun.
2009
My walking told the waiting birds to flee;
Each step ground crunching grass into the dust.
I wandered, watching; I paused as robins rushed
from brush and hidden branches toward me.
I ducked as they flew, too many to see,
into maple boughs flexing, showing off rust
to the pulsing breeze, panting its lust.
What hills have seen! What sultry company!
The crackles, the coos: the crowing of Fall,
the white fog inching, slithering from shore,
the lizards basking, lingering for sun
until they run back to their heated hall--
Autumn, bring it all. Autumn, give me more.
I'll watch you dance until the pale sky's dun.
2009
On Poetry and Memorization
If you feel memorizing is a chore,
implore yourself to mind your faculties:
You work your body; work your mind the more
to keep cool concepts sound with subtleties.
Lamenting schisms, celebrating life,
sublimest rhythms and divinest rhymes
pound tender hearts then flash a rusted knife,
read with hotter, harder ardor every time.
I hear a recitation like a spell
to screw to my ear, the sticking place,
and twist my thoughts until I too can tell
I can, with candor, warp a weeping face.
Oh coyly flaunt the treasure of your tongue!
Revive the runes and sing them, soft and long!
2007
If you feel memorizing is a chore,
implore yourself to mind your faculties:
You work your body; work your mind the more
to keep cool concepts sound with subtleties.
Lamenting schisms, celebrating life,
sublimest rhythms and divinest rhymes
pound tender hearts then flash a rusted knife,
read with hotter, harder ardor every time.
I hear a recitation like a spell
to screw to my ear, the sticking place,
and twist my thoughts until I too can tell
I can, with candor, warp a weeping face.
Oh coyly flaunt the treasure of your tongue!
Revive the runes and sing them, soft and long!
2007
Sunday, September 25, 2016
i.j.k.l.m.n.o.p.
An abecedarian geography of nonsensicalifornia starts with anxiety, beauty, comedy, darkness, euphoria, fragility, and gratitude. This is my heart and this is my attitude.
I'm washing, combing my hair. I hear a yelp in the distance, forget it in an instant. I hum along to the dissonance. No street cred for my carelessness, the burning off of innocence.
Make it fairer. Know the boundaries. See the flaws. If laws depend, are they laws? Hold ethics stamped with stubbornness. Not repentance but consequence. Is it real for all of us? Is there really justice?
One lane: the other driver scowls, a coldness creeping. I defer in sympathy. I feel you but don't know you, don't know what you're going through. Maybe your beloved won't talk to you. Maybe an illness wears on you. You lash out rather than chance more pain. I've played that game. That's why I give you kindness.
Lolling, lounging, rolling, scrolling... let me lie around a while... embrace the space for laziness.
I can't tell what that is. It's not clear or well-lighted. I don't know what's inside it. It's a place, a voice, a worldview, a choice, a lifestyle, a being, a web page you're seeing, it's something in the future--it's a mystery.
Alight in the aquarium, fish firework into terrariums, with underwater balloon dogs tugging at historians. Bubbles form in paisley; clam shells break into applause! The cash drawer squeezes oranges, the otters' paws hide lozenges, the kelp sings to the barnacles, the broom pastes the nonsensical.
I reach for authenticity and worry on my sentimentality. It's all just vulnerability. I toggle strength and shame. I want you to know my name, but without my promotion; I'm near grandeur and oblivion. I delete three quarters, then half of what's left; it's all constructed, but it's my best at openness.
I could press you, I could try you, I won't forget you or deny you. You came all the way down here, waiting your turn. Thank you for your patience.
I'm washing, combing my hair. I hear a yelp in the distance, forget it in an instant. I hum along to the dissonance. No street cred for my carelessness, the burning off of innocence.
Make it fairer. Know the boundaries. See the flaws. If laws depend, are they laws? Hold ethics stamped with stubbornness. Not repentance but consequence. Is it real for all of us? Is there really justice?
One lane: the other driver scowls, a coldness creeping. I defer in sympathy. I feel you but don't know you, don't know what you're going through. Maybe your beloved won't talk to you. Maybe an illness wears on you. You lash out rather than chance more pain. I've played that game. That's why I give you kindness.
Lolling, lounging, rolling, scrolling... let me lie around a while... embrace the space for laziness.
I can't tell what that is. It's not clear or well-lighted. I don't know what's inside it. It's a place, a voice, a worldview, a choice, a lifestyle, a being, a web page you're seeing, it's something in the future--it's a mystery.
Alight in the aquarium, fish firework into terrariums, with underwater balloon dogs tugging at historians. Bubbles form in paisley; clam shells break into applause! The cash drawer squeezes oranges, the otters' paws hide lozenges, the kelp sings to the barnacles, the broom pastes the nonsensical.
I reach for authenticity and worry on my sentimentality. It's all just vulnerability. I toggle strength and shame. I want you to know my name, but without my promotion; I'm near grandeur and oblivion. I delete three quarters, then half of what's left; it's all constructed, but it's my best at openness.
I could press you, I could try you, I won't forget you or deny you. You came all the way down here, waiting your turn. Thank you for your patience.
Wednesday, September 21, 2016
some times even have titles
Some times aren't poems. Some times are walking too long in flats, girl, sit down.
A long time since an update of prior narratives, since cat pictures, popsicles, or pop songs.
Funny how nonsensicalifornia zoomed itself out, into the background, while summer slip-and-slided away with the momentum of nostalgia, a belly flop impact, and slowing down stopped. Lift yourself up again, meet it how it goes.
All these terms: positionality, reflexivity: I like them. And then last week, the professor asked "Is there reality?" and looked at me. I said, I don't like this question anymore. The more I looked at it, the more it twisted.
Like the day this Spring I found my water pitcher shocking. I've had it several years. Why should there be this pitcher? Why this one, out of all of them that look the same? It's unrealistic.
Or maybe not. Check if the picture is to scale. Check if you're for real.
Ancient words: The eye cannot see itself. So of course I don't know. I'm always missing something.
Nonsensicalifornia peers into the absurd, sometimes absurdly, lifted from the same coaster as death. "What is irrelevant?" I think of flamingos. It's always the flamingos.
I get these mental pop up windows. Makes me stop and close close close, this thought, that, maybe shut it down, restart. Wait, no machines. Just this organic being who wears clothes and carries stuff all the time. You know like tea cups and bags and cables. Organic and real, with real feet and moving fingers, dry skin on the face while yawning. The sensation of stiff joints, a real being.
A long time since an update of prior narratives, since cat pictures, popsicles, or pop songs.
Funny how nonsensicalifornia zoomed itself out, into the background, while summer slip-and-slided away with the momentum of nostalgia, a belly flop impact, and slowing down stopped. Lift yourself up again, meet it how it goes.
All these terms: positionality, reflexivity: I like them. And then last week, the professor asked "Is there reality?" and looked at me. I said, I don't like this question anymore. The more I looked at it, the more it twisted.
Like the day this Spring I found my water pitcher shocking. I've had it several years. Why should there be this pitcher? Why this one, out of all of them that look the same? It's unrealistic.
Or maybe not. Check if the picture is to scale. Check if you're for real.
Ancient words: The eye cannot see itself. So of course I don't know. I'm always missing something.
Nonsensicalifornia peers into the absurd, sometimes absurdly, lifted from the same coaster as death. "What is irrelevant?" I think of flamingos. It's always the flamingos.
I get these mental pop up windows. Makes me stop and close close close, this thought, that, maybe shut it down, restart. Wait, no machines. Just this organic being who wears clothes and carries stuff all the time. You know like tea cups and bags and cables. Organic and real, with real feet and moving fingers, dry skin on the face while yawning. The sensation of stiff joints, a real being.
Monday, September 19, 2016
onychophagia
compulsion
to peel away
sinister delusion
of a smoother side
breakthrough
a sigh
tension relieved
clarity peace
at the red
rush to dress it
try to leave it
loose
breath of peace
as destruction
builds the new
back they grew
make them go
changing them
on they grow
warping roughened
mindless this one
dreamy obsession
bizarre mundane
a drop of horror
an ounce of shame
stuck winding up
tightening
unbreathing
heart-pressuring
find texture
peel away
to peel away
sinister delusion
of a smoother side
breakthrough
a sigh
tension relieved
clarity peace
at the red
rush to dress it
try to leave it
loose
breath of peace
as destruction
builds the new
back they grew
make them go
changing them
on they grow
warping roughened
mindless this one
dreamy obsession
bizarre mundane
a drop of horror
an ounce of shame
stuck winding up
tightening
unbreathing
heart-pressuring
find texture
peel away
Wednesday, September 14, 2016
thirtieth birthday
on your birthday
i remember you more.
i get only so close
you're an electric burner
still glowing
i can't touch
but stay close
i work a flat sketch
of memories
a slow building image
transmuting into what?
it's not you
rachel
(lower case like you signed it)
eye level in heels
what would you say beside me?
"cake!" is what.
cake! as you called me,
cake is the right thought on your birthday
and i am here on your birthday
and i think, happy birthday,
and i think of our parents
and of hannah and violet
and i treasure
what we had of each other
all those openings and closings of car doors
and now you, electric burner,
untouchable, glowing,
thirty.
i put the kettle on for tea.
i remember you more.
i get only so close
you're an electric burner
still glowing
i can't touch
but stay close
i work a flat sketch
of memories
a slow building image
transmuting into what?
it's not you
rachel
(lower case like you signed it)
eye level in heels
what would you say beside me?
"cake!" is what.
cake! as you called me,
cake is the right thought on your birthday
and i am here on your birthday
and i think, happy birthday,
and i think of our parents
and of hannah and violet
and i treasure
what we had of each other
all those openings and closings of car doors
and now you, electric burner,
untouchable, glowing,
thirty.
i put the kettle on for tea.
the sun box
far apart, the same realization
that childhood is gone
(i wonder how i remember it wrong)
the ceramic container reminds me--
a little box with a sun on the lid,
a sun wearing sunglasses, silly, cliche,
i was maybe 11, painting this,
and here it is still, with a few bobby pins
in my bathroom drawer,
still around after all this time
and when i painted its blue interior
green on the outside, with words etched in:
("nice sunny day!" it says, with stars and hearts)
perhaps i had pins in my hair.
i know i had my sister there,
my mother there
some los gatos afternoon
we went back to paint plates
these works fired into glossy artifacts
i mourn the distance
the gaps
of these days i hardly think of anymore
how could i dwell
that childhood is gone
(i wonder how i remember it wrong)
the ceramic container reminds me--
a little box with a sun on the lid,
a sun wearing sunglasses, silly, cliche,
i was maybe 11, painting this,
and here it is still, with a few bobby pins
in my bathroom drawer,
still around after all this time
and when i painted its blue interior
green on the outside, with words etched in:
("nice sunny day!" it says, with stars and hearts)
perhaps i had pins in my hair.
i know i had my sister there,
my mother there
some los gatos afternoon
we went back to paint plates
these works fired into glossy artifacts
i mourn the distance
the gaps
of these days i hardly think of anymore
how could i dwell
Sunday, September 11, 2016
focus and dispersion
i was a candle;
i flickered
i was a bright bulb
on it all
now a laser
just here
translucent curtain
soft room
a light grew,
faded, flew
i flickered
i was a bright bulb
on it all
now a laser
just here
translucent curtain
soft room
a light grew,
faded, flew
Saturday, August 20, 2016
an unmooring
I'm a ship on the sea;
waves roll me;
drifting, grounded,
sailing, stranded,
storm-ravaged.
I'm the anchor
sinking suddenly,
sands shifting into me
--then the lift--
(the bow breaks,
snaps back together)
The captain sleeps and awakens.
The metaphor breaks; I'm mistaken.
I'm a clipping of time,
a snapshot, a rhyme,
a streak of light, a curtsy,
waves roll me;
drifting, grounded,
sailing, stranded,
storm-ravaged.
I'm the anchor
sinking suddenly,
sands shifting into me
--then the lift--
(the bow breaks,
snaps back together)
The captain sleeps and awakens.
The metaphor breaks; I'm mistaken.
I'm a clipping of time,
a snapshot, a rhyme,
a streak of light, a curtsy,
a penny on the ground
(sometimes lost,
sometimes found)
(sometimes lost,
sometimes found)
Thursday, June 23, 2016
Love for Colin
My cousin Colin just died of an enlarged heart. Colin was healthy, 25.
The grief physically hurts--clenched up stomach, heart heavy and dropping into the ribs, head tense, out of breath, confused.
We only get so much of each other.
I try to find my center,
focus on principles.
And then it's
weeping, salad,
ice cream, alienation
spacing out
trying not to
sink into darkness
I'm grasping.
I know the cold and dark and painful;
can't always look away
but see too the lighthouse,
sweeping around beyond itself.
In moments alone,
questions creep up;
memories, regrets creep up;
bewilderment up.
Fleeting, briefly:
anger and apathy,
the blankness
striking,
the intensity of sorrow
unexpected, crashing in--
gripping anguish--crashing on--
I just go back to the meditations,
try to hold onto compassion,
what it means to be like water.
------------------
My words in remembrance:
Colin, as I mourn your death
(which feels unthinkable,
unreasonable, unfair),
I've thought of what it has meant
to have you there. Here.
Colin, your wit!
You're so funny!
You were it!
Colin, you still glow,
a man I'm proud to know (or have known)
yet you'll always be my own sweet cousin.
Colin, voice of reason--
sensible, kind,
gentle, silly, strong,
constant peace of mind,
letting us know we belong.
You helped us to love each other.
I wanted my future children to know you,
model after you, delight in you,
your silliness,
your willingness to joke and love.
I can still feel your kindness,
I still hold your kindness, or it holds me,
or it's a pair of gloves--
your compassion some gloves I'll wear
so all my actions have your thoughtfulness
and virtue and kindness,
so through my actions I can remember you,
carry your legacy.
Your laugh! I have to bring it back to your joy! That smile!
Colin, these words are insufficient,
but what we have is being together,
being there for each other.
We each have our memories of you,
stories of your joy, your optimism,
your moral courage,
your concern for others.
Thank you. I miss you. I love you.
The grief physically hurts--clenched up stomach, heart heavy and dropping into the ribs, head tense, out of breath, confused.
We only get so much of each other.
I try to find my center,
focus on principles.
And then it's
weeping, salad,
ice cream, alienation
spacing out
trying not to
sink into darkness
I'm grasping.
I know the cold and dark and painful;
can't always look away
but see too the lighthouse,
sweeping around beyond itself.
In moments alone,
questions creep up;
memories, regrets creep up;
bewilderment up.
Fleeting, briefly:
anger and apathy,
the blankness
striking,
the intensity of sorrow
unexpected, crashing in--
gripping anguish--crashing on--
I just go back to the meditations,
try to hold onto compassion,
what it means to be like water.
------------------
My words in remembrance:
Colin, as I mourn your death
(which feels unthinkable,
unreasonable, unfair),
I've thought of what it has meant
to have you there. Here.
Colin, your wit!
You're so funny!
You were it!
Colin, you still glow,
a man I'm proud to know (or have known)
yet you'll always be my own sweet cousin.
Colin, voice of reason--
sensible, kind,
gentle, silly, strong,
constant peace of mind,
letting us know we belong.
You helped us to love each other.
I wanted my future children to know you,
model after you, delight in you,
your silliness,
your willingness to joke and love.
I can still feel your kindness,
I still hold your kindness, or it holds me,
or it's a pair of gloves--
your compassion some gloves I'll wear
so all my actions have your thoughtfulness
and virtue and kindness,
so through my actions I can remember you,
carry your legacy.
Your laugh! I have to bring it back to your joy! That smile!
Colin, these words are insufficient,
but what we have is being together,
being there for each other.
We each have our memories of you,
stories of your joy, your optimism,
your moral courage,
your concern for others.
Thank you. I miss you. I love you.
darkness
nonsensicalifornia is
the absurd
the meaningless
the silly
a fun, light flight
a bouncing bright
exercise
but now it's night.
the darkness behind the absurd
the reality of unmentioned words
how can he be gone?
an unexpected death
i lose my breath
tossed about in waves of loss
no direction
darkness in the valley
is temporary
i tell myself
the sun rises
waves push and pull
i'm pulled under
i wait to wash up
i hope it's on a shore
not this
sea salt commotion floor
the absurd
the meaningless
the silly
a fun, light flight
a bouncing bright
exercise
but now it's night.
the darkness behind the absurd
the reality of unmentioned words
how can he be gone?
an unexpected death
i lose my breath
tossed about in waves of loss
no direction
darkness in the valley
is temporary
i tell myself
the sun rises
waves push and pull
i'm pulled under
i wait to wash up
i hope it's on a shore
not this
sea salt commotion floor
Friday, May 27, 2016
phonology
popsicle rocksicle
unfreeze the hip hopsicle
rapsicle spastical
rhapsodical rhetorical
ripe rep rap
maniacal adorable
rip ripe rope
sow a rhyme
reap a joke
down with the silly
you feel me
Thursday, May 26, 2016
Lessons in Learning
Lesson number one:
Learn your lesson.
Find more lessons.
Cultivate curiosity.
Lesson number two:
Do it yourself.
Start with the reading.
Lesson number three:
Engage, listen, speak up.
Sit in the front.
Lesson number four:
Own your own learning.
Summarize, analyze, question.
Lesson number five:
When it's hard, ask for help.
Thank your teachers.
Learning alone I'll be lonely;
I get stuck; waste time, don't know,
I feel shame; lose heart; grow cold;
don't know where to start; get bold;
ask a question.
(after all, I have a teacher).
Lesson number six:
Be gracious, kind, polite,
respectful.
We're together.
Lesson number seven:
Assert your freedom to explore.
Don't doubt your right to know more.
Learn your lesson.
Find more lessons.
Cultivate curiosity.
Lesson number two:
Do it yourself.
Start with the reading.
Lesson number three:
Engage, listen, speak up.
Sit in the front.
Lesson number four:
Own your own learning.
Summarize, analyze, question.
Lesson number five:
When it's hard, ask for help.
Thank your teachers.
Learning alone I'll be lonely;
I get stuck; waste time, don't know,
I feel shame; lose heart; grow cold;
don't know where to start; get bold;
ask a question.
(after all, I have a teacher).
Lesson number six:
Be gracious, kind, polite,
respectful.
We're together.
Lesson number seven:
Assert your freedom to explore.
Don't doubt your right to know more.
Saturday, May 21, 2016
current curving
discursive
recursive
precursors to
excursions
curls of curses
cures in courses
coarse textures
of texts
architecture
detect
select
the suspect
accept or reject
project the
ectopic, extra
topical courses
discourses
aka conversations
currents through
nonsensicalifornia
recursive
precursors to
excursions
curls of curses
cures in courses
coarse textures
of texts
architecture
detect
select
the suspect
accept or reject
project the
ectopic, extra
topical courses
discourses
aka conversations
currents through
nonsensicalifornia
Monday, May 9, 2016
maternal materiality
mythologies of women in threes
triple goddess of varieties
maid maiden crone
lachesis atropos clothos
madre material
creator, manipulator, bearer
fate
lady of permutations
lady luck
ever becoming
triple goddess of varieties
maid maiden crone
lachesis atropos clothos
madre material
creator, manipulator, bearer
fate
lady of permutations
lady luck
ever becoming
Sunday, May 8, 2016
exprecious expression, abstract extraction
television
treasure
vitriolic
violence
cover
safe in silence
soften
blue
fly
treasure
vitriolic
violence
cover
safe in silence
soften
blue
fly
Friday, April 22, 2016
developing melody
can you feel it
coming down
raindrops
breaking on the ground
can you
hold it steady
catch
breakdowns
swallow
get the rundown
sundown sailing
away
coming down
raindrops
breaking on the ground
can you
hold it steady
catch
breakdowns
swallow
get the rundown
sundown sailing
away
Wednesday, April 13, 2016
parenthetical personality
(parenthetical personality)
close yourself in
stay solitary
get on the balcony
get thee to a library
get thee to a galley
get comfortable
on the boundary
lock away
(parenthetical personality)
close yourself in
stay solitary
get on the balcony
get thee to a library
get thee to a galley
get comfortable
on the boundary
lock away
(parenthetical personality)
Tuesday, April 12, 2016
phonological refraction
poet heating connections
illuminations between
perceptions, reflections,
and what it means to mean
anything at all
poetry finding connections
in rhythm and sound
as meter and rhyme
as liters of lime
as greeters of grime
as cheaters of time
suddenly connecting
citrus resurrecting
nonsensicalifork in the road
encrypt the code
select your mode,
on we go
illuminations between
perceptions, reflections,
and what it means to mean
anything at all
poetry finding connections
in rhythm and sound
as meter and rhyme
as liters of lime
as greeters of grime
as cheaters of time
suddenly connecting
citrus resurrecting
nonsensicalifork in the road
encrypt the code
select your mode,
on we go
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