Fanning out
I blossomed
aching for you

I wanted to be your body mist

I want to forgot your touch
I want to forget your lips
descending upon me

I long for kisses
down my spine
I long for a sweet voice

I long for white angel statutes
to dance with me in the dark
while all my wild hairs

I am bound to you by memories
bees to honey flowers
vague sugared pain

I cannot let you hold me
never again
I would be dying alive
as I reached for phantom window reflections

Desire angels play with me
shooting me with stars
I become a falling object,
to fan out

Josephine Lipuma all rights reserved 2004

yahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh: post this

Well now it is 12:20 and it is the next day: Thursday
I am at evl once again....

and I want to go into the woods
and scream
at God/Goddess
and say:

"You tell me you only give me what I can handle, damm it
I am sick of it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

"Will you please send me someone to love,
damm it I want to shake my fist at the heavens.
I want to scream!"

oh well: back to the programming part of my thesis...
pant pant, it does turn me on, I can't believe this.

There is something about programming....


oh well back to work................................


Today is Wednesday and time is getter shorter everyday
I feel like life is shorter everyday.

concerning my thesis:

I am working on my thesis interface and having some concerns, with the content
I want to rework the content, I have reworked the interface to strip it down.

The tracking is done in a circular manner, the visitor becomes the signified and the signifier
at the same time, a duet? with oneself?

more later:

Josephine Lipuma all rights reserved 2004


Ode # 1
to a Four Lined Poem

There is a guard standing by me
He is weeding my words
I hear tall grasses
Growing out of my ears

Josephine Lipuma all rights reserved 2004
Today was a strange night.

I was walking down Halsted street to meet a friend of mine for dinner,
actually it was a first date.......
at a Greek restaurant, and while I was walking down the street.

I run into, an old lover who I was so crazy in love with,
but he was not crazy in love with me.

He was remarried and had a small boy about 2 years old.
His new wife was with him, and his son and daughter in law.

The little boy said: "tiamo to me,".
It means I love you in Italian.

Around seven years ago:
When I met this man at a wedding, it was instant, the love hit.
I thought this stuff was only for really young love,
like in your late teens
or early twenties.
Go Figure......
it was the kind of love...
the kind of love that......................
that sticks to your soul like old buggle gum under a restaurant table.

I was the off balanced table, he was the buggle gum, pink elastic.

It was the kind of
which pierces
hits you like a supernova,
and there is not really much you can do about it.

Your breathe is frozen with lust,
your heart sings out loud in the silence of your pacing soul.

It hurts really hard when the object of your love does not equal the
steps of your heart. His pace was much slower than mine.

I guess with love it is hard to realize what is going on at the time
it hits you.

It hit me at a time so long ago that I was not aware of it,
until a friend of mine said to me: "Josephine are you in love?"

I was in love nirvana.

He told me, "love is a gift ".
so when it
just grab the ring and

it hurts yes

oh well

it hurts,
but there is nothing like it


it loves ya...

who loves yeah baby?

maybe you, maybe me,

Josephine Lipuma all rights reserved 2004

4th Draft
11:30 in evening on a plain cold calm night

Oh Baby: Please don’t leave me
Oh Baby: Have I carved myself a statue?
Oh Baby: Please don’t request I live illusionary lives
As I wrap
my torn patched up quilt
around me
I feel a chill

Oh Baby: Don’t sell me in the heartless market
Skinning me like a pork belly
Oh Baby: Please don’t leave me sitting on my thorny nest
Oh Baby: Is it winter longing, ALREADY?
Oh Baby: I am slipping into slumber
because I hurt too much
Oh Baby: Please don’t ignore me because
I cannot fly

Kneeling: I lift my wings together
Repenting to the wind gods

Oh Baby: Is it you or I?

Josephine Lipuma all rights reserved 2004