https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/section-531-sometimes-.it-just-is en 2005-2012 shakespearesmonekys@gmail.com 42.65593 -71.33391 Tue, 09 Jun 2026 04:11:53 GMT yacs http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss 70 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-12491-because-i-can-t-make-an-omelet https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-12491-because-i-can-t-make-an-omelet I collect only male lovers. They feel more certain, and punctuated: against my skin. I know his leaving, and I pour myself another cup of coffee, let the gnaw in my belly remain in the messied sheets where I fucked him when all I really wanted from him was breakfast and light conversation in the morning before he forgot my name. Amanda Baker Sometimes...it just is Tue, 20 Jul 2010 03:55:25 GMT /section-531-sometimes-.it-just-is#comments 1 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/12491 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/12491 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A12491 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-12490-speaking-for-things-unspoken https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-12490-speaking-for-things-unspoken the inadequacies of words Amanda Baker Sometimes...it just is Tue, 20 Jul 2010 03:52:51 GMT /section-531-sometimes-.it-just-is#comments 1 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/12490 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/12490 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A12490 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-12027-explaining-displacement https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-12027-explaining-displacement I came without you last night; two fingers curled like parentheses between my thighs where I left you. & autumn became just as fleeting. I remember red as if it were currency; borrowed from womanhood and the kiss that claimed us one. I remember how you fed me oranges & I tongued the seeds while my fingers played in your hair. I crawled inside your analogy and made love to you as if I were an eggshell; small and brittle, unable to stand the concrete weight of your hands. I raise the hem of my skirt; my womb has gone back to war beneath ripe cotton. I try to draw a line between us & peel back the blisters of what you left inside of me; the colour of a thousand tight throated blossoms when it bleeds. I bought oranges today & picked dandelions to place on my breasts where your skin still covers me. I smell of sandalwood and citrus- I snuff out my cigarette in the fruits flesh and gnaw on the rind.   ... more Amanda Baker Sometimes...it just is Mon, 28 Dec 2009 00:41:21 GMT /section-531-sometimes-.it-just-is#comments 5 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/12027 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/12027 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A12027 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-11976-because-there-are-no-answers https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-11976-because-there-are-no-answers I've worn these suicides as bangles on thin wrists and I cannot recall spring; fierce with birth-     -fierce with unending I am beaten to the soil where my tongue is too afraid to venture into the soft stray of a kiss; sweet and earthy               punctuated I ache for tulips or anything windswept; certain of it's growth- -and death. Amanda Baker Sometimes...it just is Fri, 02 Oct 2009 23:25:28 GMT /section-531-sometimes-.it-just-is#comments 1 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/11976 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/11976 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A11976 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-7947-missing-the-point https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-7947-missing-the-point with grocery bags weightedby canned lima beans and chocolate ice cream, i pause to admire how clearthe sky is tonight, the moon full with obligationto the nocturnalsand turning tides. i can't recall a night so clearor stars more obediant. i call you out to see,going on about perfectionand joy in a rare moment. you gently remind me ofthe melting ice cream,urging me into the housewhile rattling off the namesof half a dozen constellations Amanda Baker Sometimes...it just is Sat, 20 Jun 2009 04:09:37 GMT /section-531-sometimes-.it-just-is#comments 5 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/7947 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/7947 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A7947 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-11492-clarity https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-11492-clarity you know Amanda Baker Sometimes...it just is Tue, 02 Jun 2009 11:13:27 GMT /section-531-sometimes-.it-just-is#comments 3 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/11492 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/11492 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A11492 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-7894-her https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-7894-her I did love her. Though I never distanced myself far enough to utter it aloud. I watched her ready herself to delight the boys. She was a venture they all rallied themselves around awkward and hard for her rejection. In her stillness, we talked of miseries, dreams. I brushed her hair out of tangle and expectation so again she could laze in shades that perhaps I had placed her in. She was everything sun-soaked and delicate that I longed to comprehend. There was no perfection about her but her smile was a sermon   and I prayed for every breath. ... more Amanda Baker Sometimes...it just is Fri, 29 May 2009 04:45:58 GMT /section-531-sometimes-.it-just-is#comments 12 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/7894 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/7894 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A7894 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9819-because-he-asked-what-i-was-thinking https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9819-because-he-asked-what-i-was-thinking allow me to come undone, softly in the subtle light where my eyes begin to dance sing to me of beauty and desire until i remember how freedom tastes then read my heart aloud knowing every word is painted in your colors hold me close in hard silence so your breath may rest against my skin until love is the voice we hold to our lips let my mouth ache for you as summer begins to fold in upon itself allow me to come undone, quietly where there is no threat of war on my hands or garland of thorn about my feet wait for me here in my unraveling so that i may kiss you and again until i find the forgiveness to love you loudly   ... more Amanda Baker Sometimes...it just is Sat, 18 Oct 2008 18:43:29 GMT /section-531-sometimes-.it-just-is#comments 3 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/9819 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/9819 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A9819 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9075-silence-comes-unsuited https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9075-silence-comes-unsuited overhauled Amanda Baker Sometimes...it just is Mon, 13 Oct 2008 18:36:04 GMT /section-531-sometimes-.it-just-is#comments 5 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/9075 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/9075 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A9075 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8893-of-obsidian-twilight-and-june https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8893-of-obsidian-twilight-and-june tomorrow, i will gain the hourgathered from shrinking moments,tucked mindfully with notionsi've preened into souvenirs. when midday unarms itself ofmornings hoarse edge,there will be no pleading burdento wage war against. every delicate sigh of sufferingwill be passed over with thecandor of a kept tongue somy words may fall fertile. held against this hour,the fervor eros confesseswill deliver glass from stone,humbling the length of a day Amanda Baker Sometimes...it just is Mon, 13 Oct 2008 18:35:36 GMT /section-531-sometimes-.it-just-is#comments 3 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8893 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8893 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8893 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-7661-the-slowness-of-death https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-7661-the-slowness-of-death men assign their visionsto women when their heads are turned. she feels him, she can alwaysfeel his eyes, fumblingawkwardly against her like a boy, struggling to negotiate his zipperand a hard on. his left hand kneedingher right breast as ifit were one of those sand filled stress reducerballoons with a ridiculousface painted on it's front. it's over before it began.her eyes dart his direction,he turns his focus back to the book in handstill on page eighty three,and wonders if she knows how he had just fucked herand that he will fuck heragain this evening ... more Someday In May Sometimes...it just is Mon, 13 Oct 2008 18:35:19 GMT /section-531-sometimes-.it-just-is#comments 3 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/7661 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/7661 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A7661 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-7600-inversion https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-7600-inversion I We shall call him Possibility. He never spoke his name, though he made a point to say hers matter-of-factly many times, as if he were folding it into memory to be looked upon again, when the kids had gone to bed and attachment seemed less confining. II She talked easily about herself, her children, her life, her resemblance to a married woman. She blushed quietly when he asked her out for coffee, noting the likeness of their faces in shadows of dim light and mild truths. III Where are they now, those moments we stole and fit into the seams of our pockets with spare change we won't admit to having if someone were to ask. When the day has become still, they rally together, rising up much as a soul would if asked to become something more than it's able of being. Metaphor draws in close, as if hypothetical change and moments captured in a hypothetical pocket could so closely adhere themselves to hope. IV I drink my coffee, alone, gray ghosts trail silently from my lips where intimacy used to gather in the subtle shift of noontime to evening when conversation came undigested. I bow down to hear the dry cough of what life remains here. V But what light will rise up this day? Will the draft of non being catch unannounced in a stray bit of glossy recollection and beckon me? Only an empty soul can remain within it's grave of walls where dust is content to bide itself unstirred, never to be transformed into a small glimpse of possibility in the hours of morning's prime. VI Mild truths prefer dim shadows where daydreams are the blisters our tongues become fraught with. The hoarse whisper of hope begins to separate body and dream. And we find ourselves ending here, somewhere in the distance between coffee with a stranger and the subtle realization, this too will scar, and the soul stirs, lending itself momentarily to revelation. ... more Someday In May Sometimes...it just is Mon, 13 Oct 2008 18:35:05 GMT /section-531-sometimes-.it-just-is#comments 9 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/7600 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/7600 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A7600