Ommwriter and The Chirp Chirp Chirp

Tonight, I decided to try out Ommwriter as recommended by the lovely Gala Darling. It’s a really neat program — good for getting into yourself and “being alone with your thoughts” as the intro video promised. Just for fun, I decided to see what happened if I put on my head phones and wrote with Ommwriter for a while. It was pretty nice. Check this out:

Summer night sounds.
the chirp chirp chirp
she remembers sleeping soundly
she remembers things one should not recall
the rythm of her sleeping heart beat
baby tree
mosquito hovering
cot mattress doubles as dream bed and stair case sled
for controlled fall
where there is no fall
for rushing the windows
for hogging the light
for it all
falling asleep hidden in the wide open
under the watchful gaze of windows
opening onto grassy lawn
shuddering green
make up
you can be?
secret sisters sheets and sweets
under showers graceful streams
awkward mirrors and shaking things
thigh inspection
magic tricks in the corner
how she looks with her arms
wrapped around her shoulders
mostly she remembers
girls in mirrors
standing, staring, comparing
i wish i had your hair, she said.
Melanie discovered herself in the bedroom as the other girls went to play school.
Melanie’s father killed himself one Sunday afternoon
after church
Melanie stood before the full-length tilting mirror inspecting
just-formed breasts like on the first day
little girls are little boys that way
young adams until they
see themselves
girls stand in mirrors and reflect on one another’s eyes and hair and breasts
girls always trying to be the best

the chirp chirp chirp
the night alive and shining
the warmth outside
moist air like
summer drips on you
from sticky sweet stars
sweat rolls down
from summer scars
dragged behind the setting sun
into exploding horizon
she is allthe campfire crackle
she is dry leaf
pine needle

the chirp chirp chirp
the shadows of nothing
move across the street
the moon peering out
behind the trees
the grass green green
the sticky sweet
the summer pouring dripping night and day
the sap that rolls
the amber smell
the camp fire and the clay

the chirp chirp chirp
the door unlocked
truth or dare and sneaking boys
and wishing boys would sneak
the magnolia leaves dried
would crackle on the fire

the chirp chirp chirp
the sweet goodnight
giving chase on moonlit streets
racing past on bikes
sniffing out the entrances
sniffing out the woods
the fecund smells of childhood
bugs berries snake spit
the man with the ax, the devil kids
the chirp chirp chirp

the chirp
the chirp
the chirp chirp chirp
the shhh sweet baby
the hard sleep
the cry goodnight
the dogs in the distance
the fight
all mud in your hair now
all mud down the drain
bark back bark back bark back
and run

run the moonlit yard
run the long night bark
run the chirp chirp chirp

Ok, so that’s totally unedited, right? But… wow. It’s been a long time since I could just sit down and free write like that. So nice. Try it out.

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geeks in love (a docudrama coming to a theater near you)


Perhaps you have been wondering what in the world I’ve been up to. Well, I’ve been participating in what seems to be a new yearly event in my group of friends: a wedding. It was a pretty fabulous time, and to prove it, here are some of the highlights you might’ve seen if you were there or following the whole shebang on Twitter.

It all started when Steph handed over her phone to our friend Conqy so he could tweet for her during the wedding. To make this easier to follow, I’m not including everything that was said, and I’m only using Tweets that have people’s avatars so I don’t have to attribute every one.


Oh, and I almost forgot my personal favorite (from @Conqy):



Tweets by:

I didn’t include all the photos here because that would’ve been a bit much for a single post, but browse through these people’s tweets to see their unique accounts (and photos) of the wedding and the rest of the weekend.

And in conclusion…

Congratulations Devin and Stephanie. Everyone had a fabulous time, and we’re extremely happy for you.

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Monday Night* Nonfiction

This time, I didn’t look out the window as I went — leaving from Lafayette. I saw my Mom dabbing at the corner of her eye, standing at the top of the escalator as I dismantled myself for the security line. I decided not to cry. Not this time. I’m going home to my husband and our cat and our cramped apartment and all our love.

I didn’t watch the farm country below, and I didn’t look for landmarks. I just read the book I took from their house. I’ll call in a few days to check up and be sure Dad’s reading the Vonnegut I prescribed. It ain’t a hard read. Vonnegut brings you into his fold with grandfatherly warnings — you’ll see, Dad. No need to be impressed with me. I don’t even stand on the shoulders of giants, just look at them in awe.

They were pleased that I came on a whim. Yes, this is how it should be. Don’t let the country in between get in the way. We had long rambling talks about religion and politics and marriage and how it should be. IT being everything, of course.

But I do get tired — tired of thinking too hard about everything, tired of trying to give meaning to everything. But here we are all on this plane high above rivers and farms and little suburbs full of weird people whose sons play football and daughters join dance teams, and this is all considered right in their world. If a boy ain’t right for football, someone suggests soccer or karate, if you like the exotic angle.

I love the golden light even as it streams through the dirty airplane window on to my crumb ridden plastic tray table. I don’t know much about god, but I think this could be a nod from him — daily bathing us in gold.

I’m indifferent to my own indifferene. I don’t like to tell people where I’m going or wha tI’m doing. I don’t like to concern myself with the people in this town or that. I know we’ve always know that any two soldiers could resolve any war if they could fratternize. Oh, but we are good forgetters.

*Note: Even though it’s getting posted on Tuesday afternoon, I wrote this on Monday night during my flights from Lafayette to Memphis, then Memphis to Baltimore. It still counts.

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