I am all sixes and sevens.
I am all mixed up.
I don't want to be who I am
I don't know who or what
I fumble, I stumble, I grumble.
I whine.
I am unlovable.
I am unkind.
I am unfixable.
I am a mess.
I am beloved.
I am fine.
© Tree Fitzpatrick and The Culture of Love blog, from year 2006 to current date. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Tree Fitzpatrick and "The Culture of Love" with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
Blog Archive
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2006
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November
(25)
- Ode to Things
- A Thanksgiving lesson or two
- all wifi all the time
- I feel hungover
- back in the pool
- to market to market
- Claude Debussy
- we need darkness to emerge into order (out of chao...
- I missed my star
- It was an awesome movie
- Live from SFMOMA
- freckles!
- I want a chamois towel
- In a Dark Time
- Is Caltrain part of the police state?!
- Open House by Ted Roethke, poet
- we know the world's gone mad
- marmalade is tasty & maple runs in the spring, right?
- another Kiefer influence. . .
- I fumble, I stumble, one of my first poems
- OK: I'm going pink
- in the mind of westerners
- as rumi says . . .
- a mini-triathlon?
- today has become tomorrow
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November
(25)
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