some more poems

here's a couple poems i recently wrote. It seems like I've been thinking about my preteen adolescent years a lot lately. I don't know if it's because I keep getting closer and closer to thirty and it's some kind of subconscious effort to recapture my youth or something. I never really felt like I became an "adult" anyway....aging still baffles me.



1994 is when the shit went down.
I was having a good time in old Chinatown.
Dyed hair and no money to spare.
Just listening to old tapes of the late greats, always s singing the same old tune.
I whistle as I walk under that full Asian moon.
All those crazy kids yelling from behind, "quit bogarting that smoke my friend.
But I couldn't let it go, my heart was still on the mend.
Smashing Pumpkins still ringing in my ears.
How can they still know the depth of my fears.
So beautiful and lonely, this feeling is all I have to hold me.


Let's go sing karaoke or go rollerskating. I want to know what it's like to be young and free.
Can you come and help me sing some Blondie?
I'm gonna get out my Prince wig and dance like Little Nikki
But that ain't enough for this type of city.
I want to go where the sun don't shine and those black leather badasses are all mine.
My hardened heart is yelling for more rock n roll.
Where Elvis is King and there's no one like Jimmie Dean.
It seems so simple but you just can't tell.
If only I had a houndstooth suit and some shiny black boots
But there's so much more to being hardcore.


You walk into the elevator and start to push a number.
Slowly scan the small space as you start to wonder.
Your foggy reflection in those shiny double doors.
You look like a prisoner, you show no remorse.
There's no one left to see, there's no where left to go.
You walk out into the hallway, your steps are soft and slow.
You make up rhymes and try to find your sense of self.
One more thought and one more turn,
There's no right words, no they won't do
But they're all you know,
They used to comfort you.
But now you're all grown up,
No time for silly rhymes, no time for self reflection,
No time for rock n roll, no time for no direction.

smells like bacon

The past couple of weeks have been kind of fun. I went kayaking for the first time, yea I just turned 28 and I've never been kayaking until last week. First time for everything. We saw some huge manatees right below our kayaks! Am I spelling kayak right? Anyway, they were so beautiful, I wish I had a waterproof camera, ugh. Some of the guys I was with got out of their boats and swam with the manatees a little bit, even pet them. They are so huge yet so gentle, the manatees that is.

I've been working at a tennis camp the past couple of weeks. Last week was a little rough. I had middle school boys and all they wanted to do was complain and whine. This week has been a lot better though. These kids are interesting. One girl is sooo hyper and screams a lot. She almost busted my eardrum the other day. She also is into anime and brought me this book to show me that she had been reading. I can't remember what it was called, Antique bookshelf or something? The same day she came up to me and was trying to hide behind me because they were all playing hide and go seek after camp and she told me I smelled like bacon. I told her I like to bathe in bacon everyday so that was probably why. THe same day ANother girl in my group pipes up on the way to lunch and says really loudly, "I just caught a dragonfly with my armpit." Kids are so weird.....

the jam session was a success!

i've been applying for jobs for the summer the past few weeks and i was starting to freak out because my current job will be over next week because school will be out and i have been desperately trying to find something for the next couple of months. and just this week i got two job offers that kind of just plopped in my lap. one is at a summer tennis camp (which is perfect) and the other is teaching a basic photography class at the art center on campus at florida state. i just walked into the art center yesterday to ask how much it was to use the darkoom and the woman behind the counter literally asks me "you need a job" and there it was. man, i have to say somebody is definitely looking out for me....

i also played open mic night by myself for the first time ever on tuesday night. just me and my guitar. it was at this place in town called Bird's Aphrodisiac Oyster Shack. i also had a special incentive to play at this particular open mic because the first person who signed up and played got a $25 tab. guess what, i was that person. it wasn't too bad actually. i played two lucinda williams songs and the crowd was very gracious. all 5 or so people. hehe. there were a few more people than that, but i think that was a good size for my first open mic. i didn't even bring a pick up for my guitar so i had to borrow the guitar of another girl at the bar. i got a few compliments on my voice so that made me feel good. i definitely need more work on my guitar skills. oh well, in due time.

1987 Badass

I wrote this over the last few months. It's about my brother Terry and the experiences I've had with him over the years. I want to make it into a song but I still haven't found the right chords yet.

Bleach blonde hair and that tan you got from mowing lawns all summer.
In your Black muscle shirt and Crisp white jeans against leaning against the doorway.
Could've given Don Johnson a run for his money.
Still wearing your sunglasses inside. A future too bright to hide.
Thought you had it going on, little did I know your mind was already gone.
But you were still the first born, my big brother I thought was having all the fun.......until one day, like the prodigal son you came walking up the driveway, but there was no grace for you, only hell to pay. Seemed like we were just drawing pictures together of the sharks you caught off the coast of Pascagoula. They had some hope for you on that boat, until mom and dad found out you used all the money you made to buy dope. You blamed Capt. Big Red, you said he was such a cutthroat. All the while I was back home staring at your Dio record cover, thinking about my big badass brother.....and why it was you had to leave as I put Holy Diver back in its sleeve.

1987 Badass, dad said you'd never last,
1987 badass, I love you so stuck in the past

You hocked my cd player for some drugs on Decker drive
I should have been mad but I was glad you were still alive
Living in some abandoned house just down the street, dad wouldn't even let you in to get something to eat. Crawling back home through the window while we were all asleep, laying on that mattress on the laundry room floor. I could hear dad trying to push down the door yelling “don't come around here no more.” You didn't rest you didn't sleep, the voices kept you up all night and so did we...

They sent you down to the Keys to get yourself a job. Thought it'd straighten you out, give you a new start. Little did we know the hell that you went through. When that truckdriver brought you home, dad could have killed you. The beach was your home down there, sleeping on the sand in the naked night air. Trying to talk to you, no one knew what to do, there were no reasons for the things we all went through.

1987 Badass, dad said you'd never last.
1987 Badass, I love you so stuck in the past

Driving down river road, taking pictures by the cemetary. The moments we both shared were never arbitrary. Looking for some magical power lines or plastic pink flamingos. Never stopped driving till we found our treasures, taken with us in a second in our cameras forever.

The first of every month going to the dollar store, looking for the perfect trinket to adorn your special room. You had it perfectly arranged so you could save us all from doom. Every object had its place, you said your art was your saving grace.

Hitchhiking for miles in the Louisiana heat, with your black trench coat still on as we pass you on the street. Coughing for another cigarette and I wrestle with the thoughts. Mom says you've had too many, or should I just give you what you want.

You pace, smoke and drink your coffee spilling it all over the floor. Mom yells again but you still try to get more. So we go outside and try to shoot the breeze. I try to understand you but your thoughts are out of reach. Sometimes I wish you could be more clear about the chaos in your head. There's nothing worse than a lost muse trying to raise the dead, or at least I thought that's what you said.

1987 Badass, dad said you'd never last.
1987 Badass, I love you so stuck in the past

You got a bus ticket to Baytown, went looking for Doris your one true love. No one knew where you went, and you took all the money that was for last months rent. Mom was sick and we were all spent. Doris wasn't around, you called dad from a pay phone. Alone in the parking lot in front of the Safeway. Next to the neighborhood where we used to live and play. 20 years later, you're still holding on to the memory of a girl who's been long gone.

You got arrested for sleeping on a car. We never understood how you even got this far. And then those cops chased you through the woods after that doctor sent you down the line. They all said you were fine, no reason for you to stay in that hospital, you were free, and the same day you came home and started tearing the limbs off some tree while screaming obscenities at strangers and mom and me. The streets weren't very nice to you but you still made it through. Something always there to save you from yourself. It sure wasn't the ones in charge of your mental health.


So you finally got a new apartment from the state, mom so worried you'd get kicked out with your dumpsterdiving treasures and and cigarette butts thrown all about. Your doctorizing was very impressive. One time you made some butterflies out of bread, I think that's what you said. Your creative touch was something I envied so much, I always wanted to be like you even though I knew all the pain it cost you.

1987 Badass, dad said you'd never last
1987 Badass, I love you so stuck in the past

shameless rhymes

these are just some random rhymes i've written lately....they don't all really relate but I just group them all together anyway...



It's such a cliche nowadays to say what you really feel.
All those emo kids trying so hard to be real.
Authenticiy is hard when it's part of the indie mass appeal.


My ears are ringing and my eyes are heavy, too many concerts, not enough love,
So any miles unplanned and unknown. Driving for this reason, Why am I always alone...

Trying to learn some Joni Mitchell songs, only she can say how I really feel.
She knows what it's like in this life to be fragile and white...
It's down to you but it's up to me,
Seems I hear her angel voice now so frequently

I just about ran off the road and I'm not even drunk.
I just had to write this down before I forgot.
Seems so important now.
This flat tire is proof.
I was stopped in my own tracks by this truth.
Got my pen ready and willing,
with my other shaky hand holding coffee as it's spilling.

I'm tired of being so introspective
Think I'm gonna move on back to Texas
Sure ain't got to worry about no exes
I know Austin is my home.
Tired of being here so alone.
Yea I'm a Texas girl at heart
Can't wait to get my airstream parked...

How many generations of beehives can you count in this Ruff family portrait? As Dolly would say, the higher the hair, the closer to heaven.

fried, dyed, and laid to the side

I found this cd at the public library. I had never heard his music before but I had to get it just for the pompadour. The librarian made the comment that his hair was "fried, dyed, and laid to the side." I said if his music if half as good as hair i'd be satisfied.