being the best

The metal bleachers have been packed for days,
Three day unwashed hands gripping disposable Kodak cameras
While fantasies of the alluring celebrity existence,
they'll never know,
Swims through their minds.

The red carpet reaches endlessly forward.
Limousine oreo cookies are formed.
Passengers mysteriously hidden
behind tinted windows
From the fans that are the reason they're there.

Gliding down the red on clouds
of couture gowns and designer diamonds
Flashbulbs
glitter, glitter everywhere.

Hysterical screams are heard
From the other side of the tracks
And the stars pose-
Left foot a little forward, lean back ever so slightly, arms casually positioned
across that pesky belly that won't disappear no matter how little you eat and how
much pilates you do,
Tilt the head, demurely smile.

You're beautiful. You've made it.
And you know it.
You've crossed the tracks.
Wave to those that haven't.
And float towards the golden double doors that close at eight.

The haves sink into plush velvet seats, gearing up for
A night of nerves for some, fun for others, but
More importantly PR for most.
Whiles the have nots maneuver their way
Through the maze of quadruple stretch limos en route to
the nearest one hour photo.


2002.

Finally

Actively participating
On her own terms.
it clicked, somehow and suddenly.

"The leap of consciousness,
Call it intuition or what you will"*
She no longer needs to be a member of -it-.

-It- no longer defines her because
She defines herself.
Truthful, honest, and in the moment.

Appreciating the world around her
And loving every minute of it.
Finally.


*This is a part of a quote by Albert Einstein:
"The intellect has little to do on the road to discovery. There comes a leap of consciousness, call it intuition, or what you will, and the solution comes to you and you don't know how or why"


2002.

Lyden

Fingers, legs, arms, feet all intertwined
Tangled up on the couch in one another's
Thoughts. Where do you end, where do I begin?
Morning, you're still there. The world is clearer now.
And it's even better. You're better.

We barely notice the hours lazily rolling by
Drifting in and out of sleep, conversation, and kisses.
Phones rings- let the machine answer.
Doobell buzzes- let them come back later.
My stomach hurts with the feeling that
This is too good to last and so
I don't want the outside world interrupting
When you're here, with me.

And now, beyond the still warm memories lies
The cold reality that it wasn't worth it.
No longer my favorite friend and
No longer that exciting glimmering rush of a secret crush.
We moved too fast, we ended too soon, but we had to.
We were forced to. By me. By you.
And we knew it all along.

I miss your friendship.
Ok, fine- I miss you.
Or at least the idea of you, the possibility of you.


2002.

(Seedling)

A simple lesson
We spend our lives avoiding
Until we choose to move into
A world where honesty is imperative
And being truthful is the only option.

As I spend more time in this
Strange, new world
i slowly discover that even though,
The grass is rough,
It's greener
On my side.


2002.

Daddy's Little Girl

The silver Tiffany's tag dangles from her wrist
The Christian Dior bag sits firmly on her shoulder
(She bums a cigarette since -she- doesn't smoke)
And it's her way of saying
She's better than you.
(She packs a bowl in her favorite pipe)
It's her way of making you know
She's better than you.
(She takes a shot of Smirnoff)

The label on her designer jeans
Is most definitely always visible.
(She presses her nostril and snorts the line)
The red Prada strip on her
Conspicuously flashes as
(Oh hell, she snorts a few more)
She gets closer to Fifth Avenue
With every move
(Daddy's paying and he'll never know).


2002

A Golden Life

Bathed in the bright setting So Cal sun
Mandarin orange rays filtering throught the window
Golden flecks sparkle on the smooth, slick fur
Contrasting with the thick, black carpet.

Sand, waves, and people everywhere
But it is his home that finally
Brings contentment and deep dreams that
Cast a shadow over his sleeping eyes
Which are exhausted from so much play.

Beautiful, blinding, brilliant, burning shine
On the outside, while a simple snore reveals
The peaceful security felt on the inside that
We can never even possibly attain.


2/20/02

...buds

The most important thing you can be is
Honest and truthful-
Said the teacher to her young students.
So simple.

Flash forward
to a world where it is impossible to
Say what you mean, and to
Mean what you fucking say.

Cowering
behind metaphors and similes,
Lies and fake smiles
We are a society of experts
At disguising
The filthy facade that
Lends itself to a life of
Nutra-sweet happiness.

That bitter aftertaste doesn't die
Until you wash it down with
Something pure.


2002.