Friday, January 14, 2011

Explanation of a Name

I just thought about the fact I have never really explained the significance of BMelonsLemonade.

My favorite band of all time is Blind Melon. The lead singer, Shannon Hoon, was an amazing talent that died of an overdose way too fucking young. He died in my beloved city of New Orleans, on the tour bus. His voice, oh my god...it is really amazing. He was really amazing, and the band is really underrated.

There most popular song was "No Rain," but that is not the best example of their talent. All their albums are amazing, but Soup was my favorite. And my favorite song by the band is called "Lemonade." Hence, BMelonsLemonade.

For those of you who love music...check the band out. For those of you who know addiction, listen to the lyrics on Soup...they really slammed it home for me. Lemonade refers to my beloved city of New Orleans, which is where the band recorded the album. Shannon's lyrics, and his amazing voice always bring it home to me. He was truly amazing.

A sample of his words that many of you can relate to...
"Needle,
Fetal
Like someone's pouring warm gravy all over me
This synthetic therapy
Seems to be so unappealing
But, oh, what a feeling..."

I still love this band...more than any other. And so I honor them daily as BMelonsLemonade...

A Note On Poetry...

Poetry
Long forgotten
These days
As I am immersed
In my prose

Fragmented words
Linger
On my tongue
Like the bittersweet
Taste
I once loved

Pictures
And images
Flashing in my head
Back and forth
On the caverns
Of my mind

Poetry
Slam
Poetry
Reading
Poetry
Lyrical
Beauty

Poetry
Long forgotten
The words of a song
The rhythm
Of life
And lies
The music
Pulsing
And beating
Like...
The blood of my veins
I wish
To intervene
Once more
On this interlude
Of sanity
Words
And sentences
And paragraphs
All tied together
With correct
Punctuation

Free form
Words
Ideas
I need
I need
I need
To get back to my core
To the magic
Of the moment
And the basic unit
Of the word

Fuck
The sentence
And fuck
The rules
I miss
The way
The words feel
Flowing downward
On the page
Like a drop
Of blood
Like a waterfall
Like the great
Deluge
Busting from what was caged
Begging to be...
Free.

Poetry
Deep
And flowing
Like my veins
Like my mind
And not at all
Like my prose...

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Abscess Chatter...

I noticed in looking at my stats lately that a lot of people have been hitting my blog by searching an abscess. People from all over this country are wondering what to do about an abscess from shooting up. And in my clean state of mind, frankly...it concerns me. This is one of the more popular posts that are randomly hit through Google, but the frequency has been much greater lately. Why is the reason for this? Are more people shooting up? Is the dope shittier, and causing more or worse infections? Or are more people searching it on the Internet? Is it the holidays that has people in a funk? Or just drunk and careless?

My advice on it is dead on, though. I will tell you that. I had more of those damn things than I care to remember. I have really tiny rolling veins, and it is really easy for me to miss. It got to be such an occurrence that the moment I missed, I took a wash cloth soaked it with hot water, and folded it over some Epsom Salt. Then I put that over the injection site, and wrapped a heating pad around it, tying it on with a scarf...then I went to sleep like that. Generally I woke up, and it was gone. Took me quite a few nasty puss filled explosions to get it down, though.

Be careful out there, people. It concerns me. Maybe I am just too old and too clean and too motherly, now.

Feeling Better...

Feeling much better this morning, driving to class with the new Cake album blaring slugging back a sugary grape energy drink and feeling like the old me once more. Is it because the weather finally broke? Or is it because the Christmas funk has finally ended? Or is it because I got a new Macbook? Could I really be that materialistic? Or is it because I finished the first read-through and edit of the book? And by the way...a few copies will be sent out very soon!

The new computer is the bomb. It is not the one I really wanted because I could not allow myself to spend over 2,000 dollars on it. I do not have that kind of money. Trust me, I tried and tried to figure out how to swing it. I was still trying to talk myself into spending that much as I walked into the computer store. But, the responsible parent in me actually won out this time. I think that this is the first time I have made such a responsible financial desision. And I am quite proud of that decision. Although, I keep thinking about the 15 inch Macbook Pro...I know that I made a responsible decision for one of the first times in my life, concerning money at least. I am proud of my decision...

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

I'm Just Saying...

I have been feeling depressed lately. I cannot really pinpoint what it is, just a swirl of things that seems to spinning around me. I am not usually the depressed type, so this is always uncomfortable territory for me. And whenever i mention these feelings to most people I know, they just shrug it off and assure me, it will get better. So, I do not usually mention it, anyway. Why am I mentioning it now? I don't really know.



Today has been a shitty day. I woke up at 3am with a awful shooting pain in my shoulder. I could not even lie down...I was crying and screaming. My Medicaid was cancelled because the state of NC sucks. They sent the recertification papers to my old address. Well, not my last old address...but the one before that! And believe me, I have informed those mother fuckers of both moves. By the time the letter reaches me to tell me they will be terminating my Medicaid...it is even too late to ask for a fucking hearing. So, they drop the ball, and I have to face the consequences. Mother fucking DSS. I am always getting the run around with these mother fuckers. I cannot wait to graduate and get a fucking job with insurance benefits. I do, however, have insurance at school...but I would rather not go to the campus clinic. My son wakes up at 8, and then he gets diarrhea so bad that the shit is in his hair. I cannot pick him up because of my shoulder, and the shit (literally) is everywhere. His comment is, "Poop, everywhere." Well said, baby boy. Did I mentioned I started my fucking period, too? So, I had to drag my son all over town running errands...fucking lines at DSS, paying rent(which I don't have all the money to cover the check.), and the campus health clinic. Thank god he was a good boy today. Exceptionally good. Now, I am home...and my mind and body are swimming with muscle relaxers, but my shoulder still fucking hurts. This is a recurring problem, fucking muscle spasms....



The fire in New Orleans weighs heavy on my mind. I keep thinking about those poor kids. I keep thinking about how easily it could have been one of my friends. I knew a lot of squatters, and many of my friends still travel the rails. I am sure I would have known these kids if I still lived there. My heart breaks for their families and their friends who are still trying to make sense out of the tragedy. The friendship among these "trainkids" is fierce and loyal...I know, lots of my friends are these kids. And I am really missing my friends.



I am missing New Orleans with all my heart and soul. I looked at pictures of a Christmas get together at a friends house, and I just wish I had been there. I wish I were closer to my friends, and I know a piece of my heart will always reside in New Orleans...but right now, it feels like I am So Far Away. I miss the food, and the music, and the weather, and the culture, and my friends. I feel like I just want to go home. Yet, it is not possible right now.



Why isn't this my home? My family is here...and I really am so lucky to be near them. So, why can't that be enough? I just want to go home. I just want to go back to the Crescent City because that is where I feel most at home...but New Orleans is a dangerous tempting place for me, not to mention a terrible place to raise a child. Then why do I miss it so?

Money is invading my mind, and I know the rent check will bounce. I am waiting on my refund from school, which seems like it will never arrive. I never used to care about money, bounced checks, and bills owed...I hate how this shit weighs so heavily. And my feelings are hurt that I am struggling right now. I loaned my child's father 700 bucks in September, and I have yet to see a penny of it back. But, he has paid his rent...you can be sure, and here I am...basically fucked. I lent another friend 100 bucks, and she is still living in her car, so I know she ain't gonna give me anything. As a matter of fact, she asked me for more money. It really hurts my feelings that I go out on a limb for people, and it feels like they are just using me. It is starting to piss me off.

My computer is acting like a madwoman, as my cursor floats randomly all over the screen. The mother fucking "d" does not always work, so typing can be a bitch...think about how many words have a "d." I cannot control the cursor, and I am always hitting enter...which has lead to erasing some of my words. I am ready to get my money, and get a new computer...maybe that will cheer me up.

I miss my grandfather, too. This was the first Christmas without him.

Anyway...sorry about the rant...just one of those days. One of those weeks...I hope it gets better.

Update...My bank account is now negative, about 500 bucks. But, the good news is the refund has been processed..and it is matter of days now.

Sunday, January 2, 2011

Truth be told...
I guess I have been feeling a little depressed.

I miss my friends.
I feel a little lonely
As the holiday
Comes and goes.
I feel exhausted
And unmotivated
And I am a little
Cranky.

Is it the emotional
Roller coaster
From writing the book
Has left me spent?
Both emotionally
And physically.

Is it the busy, busy grind
Has come to
A temporary halt?
And I rest my mind
While I can.

Or is it that I am
Just lazy?
As I sit around,
Eating rich food
And getting fat while
I pound away
Sedentarty
At the computer.

I am joining the Y
I think exercize
Should help.
I have never
Worked out
A day in my life.
I need to try
To cook more healthy foods,
I am from New Orleans
Where EVERYTHING
Is made with butter.
The obstacles
Are mounting
The reasons
For me to say
No Way
This is too hard
Always trying
To back out
Of the diffucult,
Such has been my way...for years.

But, I gotta get off
The couch.
And I think maybe I should blog about it.

Pondering Poetry

Thinking about...POETRY
Haven't really thought about her,
In a while.
Been consumed with the words
Of my prose
The telling of my story,
Wrapped up in emotion
And language and words,
And getting the correct verbiage...
Hell, this thing is for publication!

But, thinking about POETRY
Inspired
By the poems of my brother
Thinking about
Language
Upside down
And a whole new light
Pouring out of me
Without having to think
Lines and images
Magically
Appear on the page
Thinking about metaphorical
Madness
Moonlit nights with magical
Moments mingling in our mind
Thinking about sound
In forms of onomatopoeia
Like mechanical ticks
Rat a tat tat
Chhh-chhug-chugga lug chug
Thinking about repetition
Round and round
The sounds go
Round and round
In your head,
A racetrack of sorts.
Thinking about memory
And vision
And capturing it all with words
Pictures created
From mere black and white
Lines and squiggles.

Thinking about poetry
And emotional heartfelt
Madness.
Thinking about inflection
And the reading aloud...
It all sounds different
In my head.

Thinking about poetry
In her perfect
Playful and lyrical painting
Pen and pencil,
Scribbled in perseverance,
Producing paramount pictures
Pounding through my head.
Picking up momentum
And placing her pallid hand
Softly on my pouty lips,
Persuading me to preserve this thought
In all its perverse madness
Pondering poetry...