Comments Posted By L.V.Newc

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why won’t you mention all that’s good about me why is it one criticism after another why do I focus so much on these mentions of criticism than on all of the wonderful things that you say and do? if I mention that I have been hurt before will that explain things or is that a derivative excuse?

» Posted By L.V.Newc On 11.18.2012 @ 6:45 pm


how can I abide the stillness when it is not in concert with the trees? how can I be still in this dim, stale apartment full of things in want of a home? how can I move from here when I cannot breathe? (I must remember: “do not take counsel of your fears.”)

» Posted By L.V.Newc On 09.06.2012 @ 3:44 pm


I make a statement you do not necessarily agree. If I agree with the statement and you do not agree with the statement this is a source of consternation for me. Likewise I would imagine that if you make a statement that you agree with, and I do not agree with it, that this may be a source of consternation for you. I worry about making two respective statements, each of which we respectively agree with, and, finding that neither of our respective selves agrees with the statement made by the other, feeling consternation toward each other and perhaps ourselves.

» Posted By L.V.Newc On 07.26.2012 @ 12:04 pm


The icing on the cake is really the only part that I can eat these days, what with recently discovering that I am yet another member of the fallen stricken by gluten. Yet too much sugar gives me a headache too quickly, and I value texture in my food, so what is the icing without the cake? These days I’m not eating much of either, but I have discovered that silken tofu mixed with cocoa makes for a surprisingly delectable substitute.

» Posted By L.V.Newc On 07.22.2012 @ 8:31 pm


I am afraid that because I did not properly follow instructions I will not be allowed in. At the same time I feel that I was given competing instructions. The instructions of my social enclave dictate that I should have done it their way. The instructions of my heart and of the books that I have read say that I should follow my heart. I have chosen to follow my heart. I am now being told that I am not allowed in, because I did not properly follow instructions. Perhaps I am knocking on the wrong doors.

» Posted By L.V.Newc On 07.21.2012 @ 1:49 pm


I cannot think about this word because all I can think about are these lyrics, these beautiful melodies and “I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you I’m afraid of dying.” Mostly, I’m afraid of dying before I have done… everything. But isn’t dying something?

» Posted By L.V.Newc On 07.15.2012 @ 8:58 pm


I am watching the tour de france from the couch while my boyfriend and I browse the internet on separate laptop. On the one hand our company is auxiliary, which is a synonym for “inconsequential” or “ultimately, unnecessary.” We are not speaking; we are not engaged in the same activities; for all intents and purposes we could be performing our respective activities in separate homes, in separate towns, in separate parts of the world. And yet I would not feel so content, sitting here watching the tour de france while browsing the internet on my laptop, if my boyfriend were not sitting on the couch beside me. In that sense we are not auxiliary to each other; we are essential and I cannot imagine this scenario without us.

» Posted By L.V.Newc On 07.14.2012 @ 5:46 pm


perhaps the trouble is that I spend too much time writing about men. I am a turbine whirling round and round, always standing in the same place. would that these windmills could cartwheel away through the fields, across the green rolling hills to new pastures. there I would write only about things that truly matter, like God and world hunger and the soft fuzz on the back of his ear.

» Posted By L.V.Newc On 07.09.2012 @ 6:29 pm


don’t think. just write. I am in a bucket with water over my head. it is a very big bucket. I believe in following my heart only my heart isn’t really showing me a way right now. not true: it shows A way; it shows MANY ways; it does not indicate WHICH way to choose. the human condition, right? love in so many forms. all equally valid? risk one for the sake of a chance?

» Posted By L.V.Newc On 07.08.2012 @ 6:02 pm


the modem starts the computer, no– it is the other way around. the computer starts the modem; without the computer the modem does not work; Lord God I hope that one human can work without another human because I am so very scared that if I turn him off then I’ll go dark, too. at the same time what if your computer is defective and it is infecting the modem with a virus. or do viruses only exist within modems in the first place.

» Posted By L.V.Newc On 07.04.2012 @ 7:56 pm


too much motion hurts me [yet] [still] I am addicted to motion. I used to run away now I mostly run in place. though my lung aches, though my legs ache, though I am tired of struggling to breathe. still I am compelled [this is the definition of compulsion, isn’t it?] still I push forward, still I am trying to reach something. still I strain, panting, fit to burst.

» Posted By L.V.Newc On 07.01.2012 @ 1:06 pm


yes, I have chills. there is thunder outside and I am thinking about leaving him. meanwhile He hasn’t called and I’m wondering if I’m a terrible person at the same time that I’m too tired to care any more. furthermore I get chills when I read the things that I’ve written, and realize that they are true, and realize simultaneously that I have to do something about it. the dog has just snuck downstairs and I am fairly certain she’s going to pee on the rug at the bottom

» Posted By L.V.Newc On 06.30.2012 @ 7:01 pm


today is not. saturday. tomorrow is saturday though by tomorrow tomorrow will be sunday. it could take a lifetime to wrap your head around. ironically, you don’t need to. saturday could just as well be sabado, or however they say “saturday” in french. it also needs to be capitalized in order to be acceptable; therefore, we are all writing about a different saturday than “Saturday,” the sixth day of the week, unless you are religious in which case it is actually the seventh.

» Posted By L.V.Newc On 06.29.2012 @ 11:30 am


I am not sure that my body is configured right. When I was twelve I couldn’t figure out how to use a tampon and though I have since discovered that I do, in fact, “have a hole in the right place,” I still have trouble walking sometimes, there are red spots on my belly where other people do not have red spots, I get weird headaches and have trouble breathing. I have been to the doctor and though they have not told me I’m defective I lay up nights sometimes thinking it to be true.

» Posted By L.V.Newc On 06.27.2012 @ 1:05 pm


the truck drove by, slow, slimy, eyes eating their way up to in between my legs. I felt naked, and wretched, though I wore long pants and socks as I walked, though it was the middle of July.

» Posted By L.V.Newc On 06.26.2012 @ 5:44 pm


have the seeds where to plant them. true the right conditions are hard to find but they do exist and as far as I can see there are a lot of viable options. unfortunately I have fewer seeds than there are locations for planting them; or perhaps the more accurate way of saying it is that I have just as many– if not more!– seeds than there are places to plant them, but I am lacking in the resources of time and energy and physical possibility that would allow me to be in every place that I could be, planting, all at once. my kingdom for knowing how to decide.

» Posted By L.V.Newc On 06.25.2012 @ 8:14 am


just a minute please then I’ll be ready to go. right now, in this minute– the minute before the minute in which I will be ready to go– I am feeling so tired. Too tired, in fact, to go. But this minute will be over soon and then, perhaps, in the next minute I will be ready to go. I am looking forward to the next minute because in this minute I feel so very tired, too tired, in fact, to go.

» Posted By L.V.Newc On 06.22.2012 @ 11:18 am


oh, how perfect, oh, how timely. cracks in my heart-sidewalk. line breaks in his. I am sorry darling I didn’t mean to hurt you. Darling can’t you see that you have placed before me an impossible choice? That I love you less because you’ve done so. That I can see that you love me less, for placing me in the position where you felt so scared that you turned from the corner you had faced into and you bit me, and blood ran, and you demanded that I make a choice. And now I am asked to lose a dream or to lose more blood. This is or is not the way of it. Either way we are fractured.

» Posted By L.V.Newc On 06.21.2012 @ 10:53 pm


caps capstone capitalize capitalization why is it so hard to spell? what if I cannot capitalize on this opportunity because you do not want to go even though I want to go because it is a wonderful opportunity on which to capitalize. planning things together is hard.

» Posted By L.V.Newc On 06.03.2012 @ 3:44 pm


stress is not a necessity in my life, though it feels that way sometimes, though I feel lit to be so. perhaps it is not feeling but the covering up of feelings that produces such dedication to this idea of stress as a necessity. perhaps in truth I believe that I do not need to feel so anxious as I sit here, reading about yoga, listening to music by a fire, surrounded by people I love

» Posted By L.V.Newc On 06.02.2012 @ 2:09 pm


tired from hard work but thrilled by lack of monitoring. oh, to play my music and push, scrub, heave until the floor is swept and all cleaned dishes put away. the relief of not having to explain myself– or the world around me– but only to BE myself, playing music, sweeping.

» Posted By L.V.Newc On 05.22.2012 @ 12:00 pm


shorthand stands for longhand it’s ironic. one is short one is long what’s the difference? tell me it’s obvious I will tell you that I cannot see. spend the rest of your life trying to convince me. at the end of it all I will tell you that all you needed to do for me to see clearly was step out of the way.

» Posted By L.V.Newc On 05.08.2012 @ 7:26 pm


he is no longer nominated for president because he was never nominated in the first place. I was, though I was 12, though I may have rigged the ballot. and memory is such that I can no longer remember whether I was a cheater, or whether I only believed myself to be. in either case I feel myself to be wretched; I forgive myself through years of hard work and some therapy

» Posted By L.V.Newc On 05.06.2012 @ 9:36 am


I can hear the water running in the kitchen as he scrubs his hands, a red pepper, an apple taken from the bag in the crisper.

» Posted By L.V.Newc On 05.03.2012 @ 6:42 pm


Today is the end of National Poetry Month. I did not observe the celebrations but for me poetry is hallowed. The ground beneath our feet is sacred; there are, yes, “little altars everywhere.” I hallow the light in his eyes, the shape of his hands, the tiny white hairs kissing his perfectly shaped ears. He is not perfect, he is not even perfect to me, and still he is the hallowed ground in which I have chosen to plant my seeds.

» Posted By L.V.Newc On 04.30.2012 @ 2:12 pm


He lied. He had no alibi. Therefore she knew that he had lied.
She did not lie. Her sister vouched for her. He knew that her sister was a liar. Therefore he knew that she had lied.
When they fought it was like caverns battling, churning mountains into dust.

» Posted By L.V.Newc On 04.29.2012 @ 1:17 pm


she postered the walls. there were posters everywhere. haggling; wheelin-dealin. the man with the black beard looked at me. looked hard at me and I did not know what poster to buy and I could not stand him looking so hard and so I left. walked all wobbly-kneed back to my apartment where I threw up and laid on the bed, covered in mirrors.

» Posted By L.V.Newc On 04.26.2012 @ 6:29 pm


I scorn you, you moon of treacherous pearls. To say it is lizard tongues severed-flicking between my teeth. He said, “do it again.” the picture is not coming out in words.

» Posted By L.V.Newc On 04.24.2012 @ 9:47 am


Swan-like she dove for me. Pulled me under, feet kicking. I was drowning before I could grow wings. Her face was my own and I gagged on her. Under the water, piano music sounds. My eyes grow wide and I burst for the glass, a shower of feathers, surface showered in white.

» Posted By L.V.Newc On 04.21.2012 @ 10:42 am


pressing into the windowpane I wrote about them: skeletal.searching. nothing to be afraid of, after all. that it was dark was inconsequential. that I was young was inconsequential. what mattered was the moment of knowing: nothing made to hurt me but, without attention, my own self.

» Posted By L.V.Newc On 04.08.2012 @ 6:37 am

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