Dying/broken/forgiven.... now I begin

Born: 17-06-56....gemini.... monkey
re-born: 3-09-80
born again\found: 14-04-08
other notable dates: 10-03-68; 03-09-87; 23-03-96;
1-05-98; 31-01-02; 5-04-04

Interests: movement, stressed/transgressive embodiment, lived experience (body\space\time\relation)
expression ( word, dance, text, image, story, music, poetics)
learning, yielding......

Hopes for the blog:
offer up the wild intersectedness of lived experience and engage others in creative, expressive, perhaps irreverant, hopefully playful, and respectful encounters....
enact kindness
create moments of pause for disclosure, discovery, stillness

Thursday, December 29, 2011

....the pedigree of honey

a good thief needs a good plan
especially
when 
thieving is the difference
between
food & clothing
or
hungry & cold

a good thief needs a good conscience
so utterly convinced of the justice
of
necessity
she can , without guile or shame, load a space - heater and a mini -fridge
into
a
shopping cart
and, with an industriousness bordering on sincerity,
push that cart
past the checkouts
through
silent
sliding
doors

a good thief needs a good memory
so she doesn't arrive at meetings, conversations
or
work
wearing clothes that other people don't realize they have
lost
a good thief needs a good story
because 
every day life 
is
often
not 
believable

3 comments:

  1. i'd love to say that i have no idea where this one came from, but i do...
    and, strangely, Emily Dickinson's poem felt like it was connected.... here it is:

    The pedigree of honey
    Does not concern the bee
    A clover, any time, to him
    Is aristocracy

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  2. Love what this alludes to... perhaps a perverse corollary to Dylan's "to live outside the law you must be honest"

    Had a good snigger at the arriving at meetings in stolen clothes - I bet half of the world's middle managers could be labelled as clothes thieves - or maybe horse thieves :D

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  3. So sorry. I came by this morning BEFORE coffee and read this. I will admit, I love the words, and the images in my mind having read them, but my dumb ass just can't think of one damned significant comment. I love your spirit and what you write. I just sometimes am unable to expound on it.

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