Revival of the Spoken Word

http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#!/event.php?eid=133946713311801&ref=mf

See above link for info on my event tonight at Alor Cafe:  REVIVAL OF THE SPOKEN WORD.

Hope to see everyone tonight & bring your poems for the poen mic portion of the night!

XO
Keri

Newest Article Posted

Hi All,

See the attached link for my latest article posted to Powder Room Graffiti.

http://www.powderroomgraffiti.com/byte-it/a-new-kind-of-breast-pocket.html

Thanks for your support and enjoy!

Much Love,
Keri

Article Posted on PRG

Hi Friends,

http://www.powderroomgraffiti.com/byte-it/rotten-apples-or-downright-lemons.html

Click the above link to check out my latest endeavor on www.powderroomgraffiti.com
an awesome website for women. I've had the pleasure of my writing appearing there twice now, and thouroughly enjoy all the other writer's content too. Check out the site!


Much Love,
Keri

Placemat Ramblings Part 2

The texture of these chips gets funny with this bleu cheese dip.
Purple Hazy wings and brown speckled celery,
Abita, Gonzo, Sangria and Noir,
Guacamole, salsa, sour cream laced quesadillas,
Trimming the table with friendship and love...
wow that word is in every damn piece I write.
Self expression: write amongst friends on the placemats,
acceptance, peace, comfort round a meal.
It's all right we will all be all right,
at least just for tonight.

All rights reserved
conserved
deserved
to be served.

Resurgences will define our inspired words,
honest hearts,
remembered friends and truth in the everyday we live.
Your home is where your art is,
My home is where my art is,
My art is my identity and makes me whole.
Crazy love defines me.

I am homeless no more.

*compilation meal writings with 3 of my favorite people <3

Love and Exhaustion

I am so exhausted,
my brain is shot,
a tooth is hurting and trying to drink the water i so dearly need...ouch.
Sometimes I sit wondering why I let myself get so upset,
over nonsense that will soon be gone away,
and knowing that things can just be good all the time now,
instead of only once a year or two.
I stare at a blank screen and realize that when I let the words ebb,
I lose the flow.

Keeping promises to myself is so very vital,
especially since I think in terms of ...well... me me me and then tend to do everything for
everyone except me.
This is something I will never stop doing.
Why do I do this?
...you might start to ponder,
 I'll admit I used to wonder too.
But now I know:
love.
Love made me do it.
Love makes me whole.
If I look at everything I have ever done that doesn't just seem to be for me,
it was love that four letter word that I needed to say and hear and know.

I silenced myself because I thought of love.
I let things get too delayed because I thought it was all out of love.
I fall asleep at traffic lights when I'm in love because
love is more necessary to me than sleep.
When a brand new day started I accepted missed calls and confusion,
pushed slightly away and then grabbed back with such passion.
I fall asleep staring at bread wishing I had a home that felt like home to place the groceries snugly into.
I drive aimlessly to buy dental floss at 10pm because I can't stop mentally counting the dollars I need to break free from my sadness.
I walk my dog ten times a day to get out of this prison that presses down on me.
One more month one more month,
few more weeks few more weeks.
All I hear are hopeful things and yet hardly can the hope stay with me when I don't have what I need everyday.

I need those crystal blue mirrors that won't let me lie,
I need those whispers that keep me smiling and sane.
I need to not overanalyze and ask myself why can't time just love me too.
I need to make sure that I'm getting sleep,
I need to do work and I can't
focus is not with me.

I want to not have to make a telephone the medium of thought,
I want to just be safe and comfortable all the time,
I want to talk untill sleep forces my eyes shut and wraps me in your arms,
I want everything when I want it and that would be now.
peace is so close I can feel it.

I don't even know if my words make sense to anyone else.
I don't even know if I have the ebb and flow without tidal waves of emotion,
but the peace saves me.
the love saves me.
and those beautiful blue orbs can see my soul and feed it love.
The love will save me,
it has to.

Whence Come My Own Inspired Words

Recently I read at an open mic in NYC called The Inspired Word. A wonderful photographer was there taking pictures and here, suddenly, are some professional images I can actually see. I decided to insert them in my blog because seeing these make me appreciate how far I have come to be standing amongst these talented, amazing, writers. I know I always try to appreciate things as they happen, but sometimes the aftershock is just amazing. I feel lucky as hell these days.

As I have gone through so much in the past months I realize a few things. First, I think I was really close to losing my voice, and knew it for a long while. I would love to instantly say that I never would have let it happen completely. However given my past instances of self-destruction, I can't really lie to myself-never could. That said, I think it's the best thing that ever happened career-wise and one of the best things in my life because it makes everything painful slightly more bearable. Even when I arise at 6am knowing I have to spend a day in Newark with kids who don't want to be there... I know myself a tiny bit better. I can deal with things I never thought I could.

Sometimes when I get up in the middle of the night, exhausted after hours of half-sleep filled with panic and uncertainty I think "Where am I?" only to realize how many miles there are between here and where I need to be. Sometimes I wake up wiping tears from my eyes as I try to remember what was so funny and how I actually woke up from laughter...believe me this is all brand new. Occasionally I roll over to an empty pillow and think about how much time has passed and it feels like last week that it snowed: blizzard style around a conversation about dogs. I think so much about what has motivated me to keep going, keep writing, just do what I need to do to feel ok, and to know for sure what I love.

For most of my life if anyone tried to take my pen from me, I would attempt to state, "Is it not obvious I can't even form thoughts without that? I need that to speak, to exist, to be whole." Yet nothing would actually get spoken. Silence would surround me sarcophagus style as I clawed at cage bars for words to speak. It was quite severe how I physically could not form words when I needed to. Inadequately cringing around ground teeth, knotted stomach, stabbing pain in chest, thinking but never able to say what I felt. I would stare, holding my breath and maybe even walk away from things that were too much to handle. Usually I would run and want nothing more than to scream out what was on my mind but never could. Speech was robbed from me like money left on a bar, like confidence thrown in the street and run over by a truck with nine pairs of wheels.

Something has happened to me. I can say what I want to say, and I love it. Things have become so much better as other things simultaneously dissolved...it's all brand new. Granted there are still obstacles but they have become fewer and almost minor now. Seriously deflated is the huge stressful raptor that was flashing me glinted teeth as I cried on benches in the park every day with my dog. Yet again inspiration has saved my life from the hot exhalations of that monster that breaks me over and over again. If I hadn't had the past five months in the way that I have, I would not be sitting here typing out a blog while steadily employed, driving my own new car, having a plan, surrounded with love, overcoming confusion, tossing aside the self-doubt that kept me quiet so long.

I think I just need to say thank you as much as possible. Luckily those words are always ready to be exhaled from my lips and I'm pretty happy to have moved on from only being able to respond when asked what I was thinking with "I need a pen."

placemat ramblings

Well it's ok that we spill the salsa because I'm not a bitch.
I'm nice.
We still yell WHORES from a canyon even if somebody heckles when we perform.
No matter who's eyes bug out and tell us not to do our thing.
"There are children in the room"...we are not in a room lady-this is the street.
There are so many more terrible things on the street than my words.
It's what we do and where we go,
15 years later I still feel the same about writing down what counts.
To me,
everything counts.
We were young and thinking
about drinking
and doing our thing.
We were unstoppable...and still remain just so.
Not knowing what will come next or why we have to bother with rules when all they do is get broken.
We know what we want...sometimes.
When we do we just do it and it's all good.
When uncertain about stuff,
we may
get
angry.
Sure I have done the same.
Insecurity and hurtful things spewed from my lips before I can think for two seconds what I've said,
but not with you.
Not to people I love.
things keep flowing and it will be ok.
this is what I need to believe.
My shoes may fit good, but I change into my Chucks,
and I listen to you telling me I want something I can never have but you want it too.
I always want what I can't have and so do we all.
It's called life.
We need to converge to get what we need,
what we want
what we love.
All these people saying we just want something we can never have: it's just a song from the 90s that I don't believe in anymore.
I do what i need,
want,
feel,
love.
That's it,
not too many comprimises on this end beyond being a part of something whole that I have found finally again.
I don't think I want to hear about the past as much as i want to sit in the park and talk about now.
I can tell you all about pain and hurt and stuff that almost killed me...including me.
but the thing is,
I value my life so very much these days that I can't dwell on stuff that is in that past,
that fast past that I don't see anymore as much as I once did.
I passed the fast past away and its buried in my yard next to the tiger lilies.
alone.
it can stay alone,
and if the ground around it is unearthed,
I will just go get the fucking lawnmower.
Nobody can censor something they know nothing about,
and I can't flip a switch to turn off everything that makes me who I am,
I get physically ill at the thought of losing things I adore,
but in the mean time that we refer to as life,
I love you too.
The tiger lilies are coming up just fine.