I was going through my paperwork, trying to get rid of stuff, so that I don’t feel like I should be on an episode of Hoarders.

I discovered probably my favorite poem of mine (note: I never really mastered poetry, and I think my creative writing instructor pretty much ruined this poem, so I am bringing it somewhat back to what it was).  This was written sometime during 1992 or 1993.

For Alicia’s by the ocean’s edge,
where misted waves melt in black sand,
among bleeding white rocks and
dead fish.
Under a glutton moon
I slept, beneath the pier
while brine lapped at my face
like the dog I bought you last year.

For Alicia, whose painted toes dangle
in the water,
I wrote a poem in the sand
with my toe, calloused and red.
The tide swallowed my words
and etched them across the beach,
like your streak-splatter paintings
I never understood.

For Alicia, standing in the surf,
Venus in her seashell sinking.

Since I am avoiding doing my Hoarders-avoidance, here’s another one I kind of like, probably written in 1995 or 1996.

How can my heart be hungry
When you’ve eaten it away?
How come you never listen
to the words I never say?
You’re the wall I beat at
With the fists of a ghost.
You have a seven-course meal
While I’m nibbling at toast.
You fit me in round holes
When you know that I’m square.
I’m left alone crying foul,
While you play at the fair.
I’ve been trying so hard
To get this feeling inside,
And you’re out in the open,
Looking for some place to hide.
I’m trying to give up
What we never had,
‘Cause it seems you only
Want me when I’m feeling sad.
When I say I love you,
you just say, “whatever.”
My money’s in the jukebox;
This song goes on forever.

I also discovered this second part of a poem written when I was 12 or 13, in the eight grade.  It’s pretty bad, but I probably felt really bad ass because I used the word “hell.” 



The tree is old and dying,
its leaves have all fell.
Branches gently crying,
Is it Heaven or is it Hell.

The tree is dead now,
May it rest in peace.
Do they bewail its last bow,
Or do they give the least?

Yeah, it was pretty clear I was never going to be a poet.

First thing--these are not resolutions.  The thing about resolutions is that there’s almost a certainty of failure, as if the word “resolution” itself means it won’t happen.  A look at last year’s resolutions gives truth to that.  Instead, I am going to just take a swing at goals.  A goal is an accomplishable thing.  While it is my intent to accomplish these goals within the following year (and with some, much sooner), if I do not, I can say to myself that, as a goal, I can continue to work on it even after the year is done.

Goal Number One: First goal is to have my girlfriend move in--quite honestly I think we might have already made some progress on this, if it wasn’t for the fact that she has a lease with her apartment.  Perhaps some people may think this is too soon, but I know when I am in love and I know what I want, and I didn’t just fall for the first girl who came along.  The last time I fell in love with somebody for who she could be (and never became); this time I fell in love with the person who is.

Goal Number Two: Get a job.  This is actually one of those I would call a resolution, if the word didn’t have the negative connotation.  Or maybe a necessity.  Basically, what it comes down to is I need a job, and I am going to get one as soon as possible.

Goal Number Three: This one is actually another sort of time-sensitive one.  Also, one that I failed pretty miserably at last year, part of which I blame on school.  I would like to read 100 books this year, and I didn’t do it last year, mainly because of all the reading I had to do with school (which if measured out, probably equaled more than 100 books).  I have finished one book already this year, plus am a third of the way through another and just started a third.  Hopefully I can continue that trend.  I think if I do what I used to do, just have a book with me at all times and sneak in a read when I am able, I should do it easily.  Also, if I start listening to audiobooks again, that will help (I think I have at least 20 or so that I have not listened to).

Goal Number Four: Live a healthier lifestyle.  I set a goal to get down to a certain weight last year.  I didn’t meet it, although I did lose over 30 pounds and worked out more.  I am going to be less concerned about what the scale says and more about how I feel.  I did get a little in Christmas eating mode, and I have to get back to how I was eating and exercising at the beginning of November.  Tomorrow, I start up with my exercise programs (incidentally I hope to finish off the turkey sandwiches tonight--strange how that worked out).

Goal Number Five: Write a novel.  In all honesty, I would like to do this within the year, but I think the pressure makes it more difficult.  I did prove to myself last summer that I could write well--now I just have to write what I want to write.  To be honest, I have several ideas, but I already know which one I am going to start with.  Writing begins this weekend.

Goal Number Six: Do new things.  I have (somewhere) my Farm Purchase Log (or what others would call their bucket list.  Farm Purchase Log?  Buying the farm--get it?  Shaddup).  While I would like to do things on that (and have actually marked off a few items on it), the trying new things doesn’t have to be anything grandiose. It can be just something I’ve never done before, no matter what.  The last few years I’ve allowed one part of my life that dragged me down drag all of my life down, and while it is easy to blame that on somebody else, the truth is I let it happen.  No longer going to do that.

Goal Number Seven: Spend more time teaching Tatiana.  At one point I wanted to home-school her, but I just don’t think that is going to be possible.  However, I do want to get her ahead of the curve, and quite honestly, the school system (not just here, but in every place we’ve lived recently) is shitty, more concerned with getting the kids to pass one test during the year rather than actually teaching them.  I don’t want her to go through her life being a drone.

Goal Number Eight: Release hate and spread love.  I have had plenty of reason to hate recently.  I’ve never been one to embrace hate; I’ve always found that when you succumb to hate, you find some redeeming quality about the person you hate, and that just throws yourself out of whack.  I do have somebody in my life I am closer to hating than anybody else has ever come near (and, no, it’s probably not the person you think), but I am trying to move beyond that.  I will not forget.  I probably won’t forgive.  But I have to set it aside, because letting somebody have that much control over you gives them power, and this person does not deserve power.  Also, I want to continue my life’s goal of seeing the good in others and embracing them for their strengths rather than denigrating them for their weaknesses.  We are all here a short time, and I, at least, will not allow myself to waste my life in allowing negative emotions to consume me or to let anything prevent me from letting the ones I love know it.

I think that’s enough for now.  I, of course, have many other goals that I could list, some of which I probably don’t want many people to read and others which you might not understand, but I think these are a good start.