<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3200294888096691416</id><updated>2009-08-01T03:08:55.540-07:00</updated><title type='text'>haikulipstick</title><subtitle type='html'>poems, poetry, writing, notebook, thoughts,</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haikulipstick.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3200294888096691416/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haikulipstick.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Tara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13489734993216154965</uri><email>tarabrks@gmail.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>12</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3200294888096691416.post-3106557303526621867</id><published>2009-05-15T09:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T12:38:20.685-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jesusita fire'/><title type='text'>Jesusita Fire</title><content type='html'>First date&lt;br /&gt;I drove out to Carpinteria&lt;br /&gt;it was hard not to stop&lt;br /&gt;as I drove,&lt;br /&gt;watching thick white plumes,&lt;br /&gt;smoke pouring off our mountains&lt;br /&gt;a gaping wound of steaming smoke instead of blood&lt;br /&gt;30,000 people being evacuated from Santa Barbara&lt;br /&gt;staring in my rear-view mirror, sun bright orange from fire&lt;br /&gt;long late afternoon shadows on the road from&lt;br /&gt;smoke clouds hanging over us, like a storm&lt;br /&gt;I pulled up to acres of green grass,&lt;br /&gt;almost to the edge of the road, ocean reaching up coast line&lt;br /&gt;a couple houses, scattered, dilapidating, charming&lt;br /&gt;a red wooden barn, I could see his window, felt warm&lt;br /&gt;then I saw him, walking confidently towards me&lt;br /&gt;a smile spreading on his boyish Canadian face,&lt;br /&gt;pre-faded blue t-shirt, jeans, a tech guy&lt;br /&gt;"Can we check out the fire from here?" I pleaded&lt;br /&gt;worry bleeding into me,&lt;br /&gt;my son at his grandma's under warning evacuation&lt;br /&gt;smoke where I'd been staying, windows open in the heat&lt;br /&gt;ash falling from the sky, phone ringing all night&lt;br /&gt;evacuating from my friend's house,&lt;br /&gt;talking to him on the phone as I watched helicopters,&lt;br /&gt;staring up at them above me, their underbelly,&lt;br /&gt;surprised at the brightness,&lt;br /&gt;red, green, and white bright lights, blinking&lt;br /&gt;sound of helicopters chopping loudly through air,&lt;br /&gt;dumping water in the canyon above us&lt;br /&gt;"If you want to watch the fire," he said,&lt;br /&gt;"you'll get a better view from my porch"&lt;br /&gt;it was dark out, a full moon hanging in the smoke&lt;br /&gt;we climbed up the wooden steps&lt;br /&gt;our eyes glueing to the ridge&lt;br /&gt;I could see flames licking up and down the ridge from here&lt;br /&gt;he was shocked, it felt so close, too close&lt;br /&gt;he circled his arms around me, protectively&lt;br /&gt;then he focused on my back&lt;br /&gt;his hands reaching under my shirt&lt;br /&gt;as I watched, fear mixed with wanting&lt;br /&gt;rubbing slowly at my skin, moving up my back&lt;br /&gt;he'd just taken a massage class&lt;br /&gt;I relaxed, turned in the dark,&lt;br /&gt;to kiss him for the first time,&lt;br /&gt;magnetized to each other&lt;br /&gt;lips moving rhythmically&lt;br /&gt;my tongue adjusting to his like an ocean current&lt;br /&gt;a woman came out down below&lt;br /&gt;I asked him if we should stop&lt;br /&gt;he shrugged, tilted my head back at a new angle&lt;br /&gt;like an experiment&lt;br /&gt;bending me back, kissing me deeply&lt;br /&gt;I loved that, his fingers, pulling my hair&lt;br /&gt;angling me into him&lt;br /&gt;"Your a good kisser," he said&lt;br /&gt;"I am?" I asked&lt;br /&gt;"I think so," he shrugged&lt;br /&gt;I told him,"have a good night," at the door&lt;br /&gt;I heard him say,"Yeah," like he wasn't sure he was&lt;br /&gt;or like he couldn't believe I'd left&lt;br /&gt;on the way home, behind a fire truck,&lt;br /&gt;embers flew on the road&lt;br /&gt;I fought back fear, remembering&lt;br /&gt;our tongues moving like a swirl of fire&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3200294888096691416-3106557303526621867?l=haikulipstick.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haikulipstick.blogspot.com/feeds/3106557303526621867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3200294888096691416&amp;postID=3106557303526621867' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3200294888096691416/posts/default/3106557303526621867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3200294888096691416/posts/default/3106557303526621867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haikulipstick.blogspot.com/2009/05/jesusita-fire.html' title='Jesusita Fire'/><author><name>Tara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13489734993216154965</uri><email>tarabrks@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08156577988257344897'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3200294888096691416.post-4488905051544836416</id><published>2009-02-26T13:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T15:37:13.191-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tea Fire</title><content type='html'>I called him, "There's a big fire in the canyon, will you come over?"&lt;br /&gt;He said, "Yeah, I can't see it from here. I'm on my way."&lt;br /&gt;Flames leaping&lt;br /&gt;from where I was&lt;br /&gt;leaping from across the canyon&lt;br /&gt;taller than me, wind rising them higher&lt;br /&gt;higher and spreading over, into the canyon&lt;br /&gt;hungry&lt;br /&gt;Fear creaping into my breathing&lt;br /&gt;If they were that tall, how tall were they?&lt;br /&gt;they must be 70 ft. high flames with wind blowing across them&lt;br /&gt;later, on the news, they were that tall&lt;br /&gt;watching, helpless, waiting for him to come&lt;br /&gt;I heard his voice first, "Where is she?" he asked&lt;br /&gt;he slid open the glass door, into wind and backyard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;walking up steep stone steps to where I was frozen&lt;br /&gt;glued to the flames, worrying&lt;br /&gt;my friends were up there in that canyon&lt;br /&gt;He reached me, circled his arms about my waist&lt;br /&gt;even though we were friends, it felt warm, good, safe&lt;br /&gt;we watched in silence for a moment&lt;br /&gt;"I'd better go," he said, nervously.&lt;br /&gt;"What?" I asked, shocked&lt;br /&gt;"I didn't know it was so close..." he said calmly, "I might need to evacuate."&lt;br /&gt;I was shocked, instead of the warmth of his arms holding me safe,&lt;br /&gt;instead of relief, I saw him heading toward those flames,&lt;br /&gt;flames leaping stories high&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't let him go alone. I had to help,&lt;br /&gt;yet, fear and wanting safety, away from flames, overpowering&lt;br /&gt;I saw myself waiting, crazy with worry,&lt;br /&gt;it would be worse, here, safe, terrified&lt;br /&gt;"I'm coming with you," I said with conviction.&lt;br /&gt;"Let's go," he replied. Immediate. No hesitation.&lt;br /&gt;I called my girlfriend. "We're evacuating now," she shouted into the phone. Click.&lt;br /&gt;At least she was going to be safe...I hope&lt;br /&gt;We got flashlight batteries at 711. It was eerie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got to his place. Thick with smoke, like you couldn't breathe.&lt;br /&gt;The neighbors were already loading their cars.&lt;br /&gt;I watched neighbors scurry to the top of the driveway,&lt;br /&gt;converge, and talk, looking for the fire&lt;br /&gt;you couldn't see it yet, you could smell it&lt;br /&gt;it was on everyone, thick and heavy&lt;br /&gt;burning at your lungs&lt;br /&gt;sheriffs drove through, yelling through their bull horn&lt;br /&gt;"This is a mandatory evacuation."&lt;br /&gt;Some of the neighbors were old,&lt;br /&gt;"Don't ask me," she said in her thick Italian.&lt;br /&gt;"I woke up, you have to leave, they told me, so I'm leaving."&lt;br /&gt;we went back inside&lt;br /&gt;"We have to take the guitar," I said, unplugging it.&lt;br /&gt;"These are just things. They're replaceable," he said.&lt;br /&gt;"Let's just get you out of here."&lt;br /&gt;I felt a little better, feeling valuable.&lt;br /&gt;He wanted the nicknacks,&lt;br /&gt;the little blue smurf his ex had given him in Spain&lt;br /&gt;I carried, carefully to the car, porcelain from Prague&lt;br /&gt;all of his travels, memories in little tiny things.&lt;br /&gt;The sheriff drove by yelling out of a bullhorn.&lt;br /&gt;"This is a mandatory evacuation. You need to evacuate now."&lt;br /&gt;They drove through. Talked to people. Kept driving.&lt;br /&gt;I was so nervous.&lt;br /&gt;"This is so silly," he said.&lt;br /&gt;"It feels weird, to move everything out and then&lt;br /&gt;have to move it back in...&lt;br /&gt;that would be the best of all outcomes, though."&lt;br /&gt;We got back to my parents late that night, the car filled with his stuff.&lt;br /&gt;He woke up early the next morning and drove over to check on things.&lt;br /&gt;The next day I was told I had the day off. I was exhausted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few days later, we hauled all his stuff back in.&lt;br /&gt;Rehung the paintings,&lt;br /&gt;instruments from Jamaica back on the wall...&lt;br /&gt;This was the best plausible outcome,&lt;br /&gt;being able to move back in a few days later.&lt;br /&gt;"It seems kind of silly, moving out, moving back in," he said.&lt;br /&gt;200 homes burnt in the Tea Fire&lt;br /&gt;It's been months now,&lt;br /&gt;my girlfriend is living in a hotel with 3 boys and a dog.&lt;br /&gt;3 boys who desperately need a home and have no money.&lt;br /&gt;The insurance has refused to pay the hotel bill...&lt;br /&gt;every day she drags her feet across the lobby,&lt;br /&gt;embarrassed she can't pay the bill.&lt;br /&gt;I worry. I try to take her son out on the weekends...&lt;br /&gt;I try to make him happy in a world that has&lt;br /&gt;turned instantly upside down...&lt;br /&gt;if I had the money I would give it to her...&lt;br /&gt;but I don't so, I give her my time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3200294888096691416-4488905051544836416?l=haikulipstick.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haikulipstick.blogspot.com/feeds/4488905051544836416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3200294888096691416&amp;postID=4488905051544836416' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3200294888096691416/posts/default/4488905051544836416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3200294888096691416/posts/default/4488905051544836416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haikulipstick.blogspot.com/2009/02/tea-fire.html' title='Tea Fire'/><author><name>Tara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13489734993216154965</uri><email>tarabrks@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08156577988257344897'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3200294888096691416.post-1747767650682677025</id><published>2008-10-17T17:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T17:19:47.232-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fog</title><content type='html'>I watched fog drifting in towards us&lt;br /&gt;Big blue mountains in the background&lt;br /&gt;with fog whisping in waves&lt;br /&gt;big solid white waves&lt;br /&gt;cover ghost oil platforms&lt;br /&gt;as if they were live ships&lt;br /&gt;drift across the ocean&lt;br /&gt;hovering, waiting to move in like a predator&lt;br /&gt;cumin, rich Indian spices floating up the canyon&lt;br /&gt;reminding me of childhood and incense and the 60's&lt;br /&gt;I looked at the Spanish tile adobe&lt;br /&gt;which house, which million dollar house had a wife from India&lt;br /&gt;with spices that floated up through the canyon?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3200294888096691416-1747767650682677025?l=haikulipstick.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haikulipstick.blogspot.com/feeds/1747767650682677025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3200294888096691416&amp;postID=1747767650682677025' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3200294888096691416/posts/default/1747767650682677025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3200294888096691416/posts/default/1747767650682677025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haikulipstick.blogspot.com/2008/10/fog.html' title='Fog'/><author><name>Tara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13489734993216154965</uri><email>tarabrks@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08156577988257344897'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3200294888096691416.post-5383790330043777669</id><published>2008-10-17T15:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T16:48:15.775-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ageing'/><title type='text'>Ageing</title><content type='html'>problems, his father walked away&lt;br /&gt;I listened to my son&lt;br /&gt;he waited and wanted&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried to fix them&lt;br /&gt;on my own&lt;br /&gt;I could feel years&lt;br /&gt;years fall into wrinkles around my eyes&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3200294888096691416-5383790330043777669?l=haikulipstick.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haikulipstick.blogspot.com/feeds/5383790330043777669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3200294888096691416&amp;postID=5383790330043777669' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3200294888096691416/posts/default/5383790330043777669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3200294888096691416/posts/default/5383790330043777669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haikulipstick.blogspot.com/2008/10/ageing.html' title='Ageing'/><author><name>Tara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13489734993216154965</uri><email>tarabrks@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08156577988257344897'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3200294888096691416.post-7115597936052203999</id><published>2008-10-13T16:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T16:40:26.292-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Packaging Matters</title><content type='html'>I fell asleep with my window open&lt;br /&gt;lavendar hand knitted blanket my mamaw made&lt;br /&gt;wrapped around me&lt;br /&gt;I buried myself&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I opened my eyes to cold October air&lt;br /&gt;as cold as I was awake&lt;br /&gt;coldness opened my eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at the coffee shop I noticed&lt;br /&gt;Beautifully wrapped sugar colored witch lollipops&lt;br /&gt;Halloween coffins with edible skeletons inside&lt;br /&gt;all this American packaging felt like my mamaw's blanket&lt;br /&gt;something I know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I noticed the books I designed&lt;br /&gt;how different it was&lt;br /&gt;how you could slap headlines on with glue&lt;br /&gt;a little crooked&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I noticed how perfect the witch was,&lt;br /&gt;bright sugar enameled details on her clothes,&lt;br /&gt;little pink buttons&lt;br /&gt;green eyes&lt;br /&gt;glaring purple hat&lt;br /&gt;sharp, crisp, clear&lt;br /&gt;even in sugar you could see&lt;br /&gt;how important it is to look purrrfeccctttt...&lt;br /&gt;is this only an Americanism?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3200294888096691416-7115597936052203999?l=haikulipstick.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haikulipstick.blogspot.com/feeds/7115597936052203999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3200294888096691416&amp;postID=7115597936052203999' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3200294888096691416/posts/default/7115597936052203999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3200294888096691416/posts/default/7115597936052203999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haikulipstick.blogspot.com/2008/10/packaging-matters.html' title='Packaging Matters'/><author><name>Tara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13489734993216154965</uri><email>tarabrks@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08156577988257344897'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3200294888096691416.post-5108993019864797995</id><published>2008-10-10T16:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-10T17:08:50.022-07:00</updated><title type='text'>French Au Pair</title><content type='html'>I walked into the kitchen&lt;br /&gt;early afternoon&lt;br /&gt;she was wearing&lt;br /&gt;a short grey nightshirt&lt;br /&gt;an expensive one that tucked in ribbons at the bottom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I watched soap suds&lt;br /&gt;drain from sink&lt;br /&gt;I watched her do dishes&lt;br /&gt;I watched her bare legs&lt;br /&gt;as if they were some extension of herself&lt;br /&gt;into the world of showing&lt;br /&gt;not caring&lt;br /&gt;wanting&lt;br /&gt;a catwalk of showing off,&lt;br /&gt;I heard her laughing on the phone to her boyfriend&lt;br /&gt;Did he care?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wondered how&lt;br /&gt;why&lt;br /&gt;I tried to remember a time when&lt;br /&gt;I didn't mind doing dishes in a short grey t-shirt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have grown so self-conscious&lt;br /&gt;wanting&lt;br /&gt;waiting&lt;br /&gt;for so many years&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3200294888096691416-5108993019864797995?l=haikulipstick.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haikulipstick.blogspot.com/feeds/5108993019864797995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3200294888096691416&amp;postID=5108993019864797995' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3200294888096691416/posts/default/5108993019864797995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3200294888096691416/posts/default/5108993019864797995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haikulipstick.blogspot.com/2008/10/french-au-pair.html' title='French Au Pair'/><author><name>Tara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13489734993216154965</uri><email>tarabrks@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08156577988257344897'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3200294888096691416.post-6656885527340753530</id><published>2008-10-06T12:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T13:00:41.194-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Feeling blue'/><title type='text'>Bluuu &amp; 500 miles ahead</title><content type='html'>&lt;pre&gt;I like the way you push me up against your car&lt;br /&gt;way you kiss me,&lt;br /&gt;sudden quick kisses&lt;br /&gt;lightning impulses&lt;br /&gt;way you breathe in quickly&lt;br /&gt;catching your breathe&lt;br /&gt;kisses meaning something&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;curled up in the car&lt;br /&gt;you ask me tentatively, "What's wrong?"&lt;br /&gt;I shudder&lt;br /&gt;watching rain come down on your windshield&lt;br /&gt;wet, soft&lt;br /&gt;driving past garish skeletons&lt;br /&gt;Halloween set ups in the front yard&lt;br /&gt;I shudder thinking of you leaving&lt;br /&gt;heart wrenching agony that comes with it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were talking about moving&lt;br /&gt;about how renters don't like overnighters&lt;br /&gt;leaving&lt;br /&gt;word flashed again like&lt;br /&gt;nightmare skeletons in the yard&lt;br /&gt;leaving, mixed with past flashbacks&lt;br /&gt;flashes of how much it hurt every time he left&lt;br /&gt;every time my ex would leave&lt;br /&gt;He was there, then&lt;br /&gt;suddenly not there at all&lt;br /&gt;I waited after school,&lt;br /&gt;cold wind growing&lt;br /&gt;knawing into dread as he didn't show up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;leaving&lt;br /&gt;when you move to another city to get a better job&lt;br /&gt;I'm missing you terribly and I'm trying to imagine&lt;br /&gt;how I'll feel when your gone&lt;br /&gt;I try to tell myself&lt;br /&gt;you were never here in the first place&lt;br /&gt;You never changed your phone number to 805&lt;br /&gt;I feel...that missing feeling&lt;br /&gt;like how you said&lt;br /&gt;something's missing...when I was sick&lt;br /&gt;didn't show up for work&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I talked the night before about&lt;br /&gt;putting my finger in your back pocket&lt;br /&gt;pink clouds scudding across the sky&lt;br /&gt;that night in the parking lot at the News-Press&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day I was sick, when I wasn't there,&lt;br /&gt;you told me&lt;br /&gt;something's missing&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying so hard not to see how much I'll miss you&lt;br /&gt;how attached I've become&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3200294888096691416-6656885527340753530?l=haikulipstick.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haikulipstick.blogspot.com/feeds/6656885527340753530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3200294888096691416&amp;postID=6656885527340753530' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3200294888096691416/posts/default/6656885527340753530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3200294888096691416/posts/default/6656885527340753530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haikulipstick.blogspot.com/2008/10/bluuu-500-miles-ahead.html' title='Bluuu &amp; 500 miles ahead'/><author><name>Tara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13489734993216154965</uri><email>tarabrks@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08156577988257344897'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3200294888096691416.post-7910009904469066329</id><published>2008-10-03T14:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T12:49:10.623-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Connection Baggage</title><content type='html'>I walked across the college campus,&lt;br /&gt;evening, ocean startling, deepening&lt;br /&gt;turning darker blue&lt;br /&gt;Everything that was crisp and clear was starting to smudge&lt;br /&gt;I saw her, dark brown hair, head turned&lt;br /&gt;a distant look on her face&lt;br /&gt;I used to have that look&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I rested my head against him&lt;br /&gt;curled up in the rocking chair&lt;br /&gt;You look so distant, he said&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, I was dreaming..." I responded&lt;br /&gt;I would tell him about my dreams&lt;br /&gt;daydreams&lt;br /&gt;I would lay on the floor, on the pillows,&lt;br /&gt;get that far off glazed look&lt;br /&gt;"You were drifting again," he said.&lt;br /&gt;Not mean-like,&lt;br /&gt;sorta gently reminding me,&lt;br /&gt;to be here, now&lt;br /&gt;with him&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was drifting,&lt;br /&gt;I was thinking about my ex...&lt;br /&gt;How can we connect,&lt;br /&gt;now&lt;br /&gt;when I keep thinking about my ex?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mentioned it to my girlfriend,&lt;br /&gt;she responded, shockingly&lt;br /&gt;"I said his name last night out loud,"&lt;br /&gt;when I woke up this morning, he asked me&lt;br /&gt;"What were you dreaming about?"&lt;br /&gt;"I don't remember," she murmer'd&lt;br /&gt;"What am I supposed to say?&lt;br /&gt;I was dreaming about what great sex we used to have?" she laughed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I talked to a guy friend in his 20's,&lt;br /&gt;he's a history buff who likes to date European women...&lt;br /&gt;"Most woman have baggage," he said&lt;br /&gt;"I go out with these terrible women, they have like,&lt;br /&gt;8 ex-boyfriends. It creates problems.&lt;br /&gt;I think relationships are hard.&lt;br /&gt;In the past men and women would get marrried right away.&lt;br /&gt;Now it is different.&lt;br /&gt;You have to care about the other person.&lt;br /&gt;I think people are inherently selfish.&lt;br /&gt;There are two categories, people who care and people who don't care.&lt;br /&gt;I don't go out with women who don't care," he said firmly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I listened to his tangent. I love it when he goes off...&lt;br /&gt;"If a woman called me right now,&lt;br /&gt;I'd be like, see ya...&lt;br /&gt;I don't care about my ex's," he said&lt;br /&gt;However, I know, he chats online with them all the time...&lt;br /&gt;would he stop if he started seeing someone new?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over and over again&lt;br /&gt;I remember the first time I went out with you,&lt;br /&gt;"My brother worked for EA games," I said...&lt;br /&gt;You hardly listened to a thing I said&lt;br /&gt;I had to repeat it, later in the conversation&lt;br /&gt;I didn't blame you&lt;br /&gt;how could you possibly care?&lt;br /&gt;we learn to not care&lt;br /&gt;to be emotionally anesthetized&lt;br /&gt;In your 50's, you must have done this so many times...&lt;br /&gt;talking and listening&lt;br /&gt;connecting and unconnecting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's true, women do have baggage&lt;br /&gt;men have baggage&lt;br /&gt;so many relationships,&lt;br /&gt;so many times&lt;br /&gt;over and over&lt;br /&gt;it seems so hard to connect through the cobwebs of the past&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the future we will have online relationship databanks where we keep&lt;br /&gt;our relationship data&lt;br /&gt;compartmentalized&lt;br /&gt;maybe the program scripts will assess data, reformat it&lt;br /&gt;we will be presented with options,&lt;br /&gt;be able to pick a, b, or c&lt;br /&gt;online connections are so different than real life connections&lt;br /&gt;the skyline darkens into evening on campus&lt;br /&gt;can I brush away the cobwebs into the night,&lt;br /&gt;smudging the skyline the way it is now?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3200294888096691416-7910009904469066329?l=haikulipstick.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haikulipstick.blogspot.com/feeds/7910009904469066329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3200294888096691416&amp;postID=7910009904469066329' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3200294888096691416/posts/default/7910009904469066329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3200294888096691416/posts/default/7910009904469066329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haikulipstick.blogspot.com/2008/10/connection-baggage.html' title='Connection Baggage'/><author><name>Tara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13489734993216154965</uri><email>tarabrks@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08156577988257344897'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3200294888096691416.post-1052149856739267708</id><published>2008-10-02T11:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-02T12:00:46.204-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Genealogy</title><content type='html'>I heard her smooth southern Oklahoma voice over the phone,&lt;br /&gt;we discussed copyrights and genealogy,&lt;br /&gt;her new book,&lt;br /&gt;we talked about civil war accroutements,&lt;br /&gt;"I have found," she said,&lt;br /&gt;"that most families can trace their family history back to the civil war..."&lt;br /&gt;"Yes," I intoned, seeing my great grandfather's hands&lt;br /&gt;opening the old family wooden box...&lt;br /&gt;old pictures,&lt;br /&gt;hand written notes slowly falling apart&lt;br /&gt;how he traced his family back to the signing of the Constitution&lt;br /&gt;energetic discussion, endless discussion,&lt;br /&gt;how big their minds must have been,&lt;br /&gt;I wish I had time for hours of endless discussion...&lt;br /&gt;My day is so busy, there is so little time,&lt;br /&gt;I envy them and their grand ideas&lt;br /&gt;I watch the dust fall off the old photographs,&lt;br /&gt;and think of preservation&lt;br /&gt;how long ago wasn't that far away&lt;br /&gt;and how what we do now will change everything&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3200294888096691416-1052149856739267708?l=haikulipstick.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haikulipstick.blogspot.com/feeds/1052149856739267708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3200294888096691416&amp;postID=1052149856739267708' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3200294888096691416/posts/default/1052149856739267708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3200294888096691416/posts/default/1052149856739267708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haikulipstick.blogspot.com/2008/10/genealogy.html' title='Genealogy'/><author><name>Tara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13489734993216154965</uri><email>tarabrks@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08156577988257344897'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3200294888096691416.post-2639405812659259294</id><published>2008-09-30T16:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T16:36:56.323-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yells the same as Sunshine</title><content type='html'>"Goodmorning," she said politely as I arrived at work&lt;br /&gt;but he was sitting in my chair&lt;br /&gt;Did you get the print out? he said&lt;br /&gt;I watched her hurry on the computer&lt;br /&gt;"I just had it," she said&lt;br /&gt;"Your mummbling," he said, cruelly&lt;br /&gt;He could have shouted,&lt;br /&gt;the echoes would have been the same&lt;br /&gt;His daughter was going to drug court today and nothing could dispel his anger...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Early afternoon I could hear his engine roaring up the driveway,&lt;br /&gt;"Is she here?" he yelled.&lt;br /&gt;"No, she just left..."&lt;br /&gt;He was looking for his wife.&lt;br /&gt;"The family is falling apart and she wants to pretend she's a frat girl," he said&lt;br /&gt;He was referring to his wife going to school and the fact&lt;br /&gt;his kids, in their 20's were not,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw the pretty girl from France waiting for him&lt;br /&gt;She was wearing a clean-cut purple tank top&lt;br /&gt;she did not speak very good English&lt;br /&gt;As he pulled out,&lt;br /&gt;I noticed several beers were gone...&lt;br /&gt;I could see bright Indigo blue flowers in the pot next to the front door&lt;br /&gt;I could see the ocean, all blue, turning into a haze in the sunshine&lt;br /&gt;but the sun that drifted down onto the lemon orchard here, were cruel and&lt;br /&gt;nothing, not even paradise, could atone for the anger that carried in his voice&lt;br /&gt;made me want to drink and not stop drinking&lt;br /&gt;to drown in the hazy sun&lt;br /&gt;melt into the earth, as if I did not need a job, as if I were invisible&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3200294888096691416-2639405812659259294?l=haikulipstick.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haikulipstick.blogspot.com/feeds/2639405812659259294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3200294888096691416&amp;postID=2639405812659259294' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3200294888096691416/posts/default/2639405812659259294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3200294888096691416/posts/default/2639405812659259294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haikulipstick.blogspot.com/2008/09/yells-same-as-sunshine.html' title='Yells the same as Sunshine'/><author><name>Tara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13489734993216154965</uri><email>tarabrks@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08156577988257344897'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3200294888096691416.post-7637479231249246859</id><published>2008-09-28T15:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T15:50:46.348-07:00</updated><title type='text'>If only...</title><content type='html'>I drop my 11 yr old son off at the birthday party&lt;br /&gt;In Manning Park,&lt;br /&gt;in California where fall is green&lt;br /&gt;I walk back through&lt;br /&gt;I had been here with you, eight years ago…&lt;br /&gt;Lush grass growing, green pine trees dappled with light and children’s laughter&lt;br /&gt;I see a couple wandering through lush undergrowth&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if it is beautiful for her&lt;br /&gt;beautiful as when I wandered through it with you…&lt;br /&gt;It seemed so, they way they held hands&lt;br /&gt;the way they leaned and pulled into and away from each other&lt;br /&gt;I walked back through the park&lt;br /&gt;I wandered through trees you had once planted&lt;br /&gt;I tried to remember&lt;br /&gt;You pointing and which trees you pointed at&lt;br /&gt;Tried to remember to see how tall they had grown&lt;br /&gt;I couldn’t remember&lt;br /&gt;I could only see your finger pointing, all blurry like&lt;br /&gt;not which tree you pointed to…&lt;br /&gt;I remembered&lt;br /&gt;I remember&lt;br /&gt;bringing you lunch&lt;br /&gt;how happy I was to bring you lunch&lt;br /&gt;because I couldn’t wait for you to get home&lt;br /&gt;how all the worker men smiled at me&lt;br /&gt;how you wrapped your arms around me&lt;br /&gt;I remember how happy you were here&lt;br /&gt;I wondered if you had gotten a job here&lt;br /&gt;If things would have turned out different&lt;br /&gt;Better&lt;br /&gt;Better than separated?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3200294888096691416-7637479231249246859?l=haikulipstick.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haikulipstick.blogspot.com/feeds/7637479231249246859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3200294888096691416&amp;postID=7637479231249246859' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3200294888096691416/posts/default/7637479231249246859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3200294888096691416/posts/default/7637479231249246859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haikulipstick.blogspot.com/2008/09/if-only.html' title='If only...'/><author><name>Tara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13489734993216154965</uri><email>tarabrks@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08156577988257344897'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3200294888096691416.post-1898860792647381367</id><published>2008-09-27T13:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-27T14:01:15.906-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><title type='text'>An affair with a dragon</title><content type='html'>I saw his words come out of his mouth&lt;br /&gt;Like a dragon&lt;br /&gt;I saw the flames licking at the bed&lt;br /&gt;It was late, I had not gotten up and he was angry&lt;br /&gt;tired of the games&lt;br /&gt;If he could finish quicker…&lt;br /&gt;My words cut into the heart of the matter&lt;br /&gt;“What is your point?” I asked coldly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“My point is…” he continues, angrier&lt;br /&gt;The words flamed red and burned&lt;br /&gt;Seared your skin with nothing left&lt;br /&gt;Reminder, I am a guest in this house&lt;br /&gt;My words fluttered high in anger&lt;br /&gt;Reverberating his pitch&lt;br /&gt;Reminder, I am a guest&lt;br /&gt;I have to bow even in my anger&lt;br /&gt;The heat licked up my tears&lt;br /&gt;Leaving none&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wondered in the aftermath&lt;br /&gt;Inside this elegant house&lt;br /&gt;Warm oriental furniture&lt;br /&gt;A dragon sleeps&lt;br /&gt;I never know when it will wake up&lt;br /&gt;Where the line crosses&lt;br /&gt;But I am in love with him&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3200294888096691416-1898860792647381367?l=haikulipstick.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haikulipstick.blogspot.com/feeds/1898860792647381367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3200294888096691416&amp;postID=1898860792647381367' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3200294888096691416/posts/default/1898860792647381367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3200294888096691416/posts/default/1898860792647381367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haikulipstick.blogspot.com/2008/09/affair-with-dragon.html' title='An affair with a dragon'/><author><name>Tara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13489734993216154965</uri><email>tarabrks@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08156577988257344897'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry></feed>