my face goes out like a street light,
bulb fizzles into a hundred pieces,
each shard a facsimile of her torn spirit,
she could not fathom it,
she only felt the sight of your retreating foot steps,
she could not conceive of it,
that you would return in a fortnight;
no food in her belly,
no joy in her eyes
any comfort from the ostriches
was taken with a heart blind
when that fortnight ended
and you scampered into her bed,
there lay the shell of your friend
lungs expanding by a sunset whisper
it grows cold like a lifting fever
dreaming of saving the elephants
dancers in the dark,
we weep like orphans too
only our abandonment won’t be for ivory
our death won’t be to fill the pockets
of the lost transfixed on luxury
my countenance crashes into a jellico cat
on every midnight dreary.
– yiqi 16 july 2014 10:06 pm
Inspired by My Wild Affair.
Are you familiar with the phrase “smooth like a baby’s bottom” when referring to the texture of a non-baby’s bottom? I’ve got a better one for you.
Smooth like a ball python.
I went to Fernbank Museum of Natural History today for Reptile Day.
I saw a presentation on the box turtle, uromastyx, ball python, and American alligator. I learned that if you see a turtle on the road and you want to help it, you need to look at where the turtle is headed (no pun intended). If the turtle is facing a certain direction, move the turtle in that direction. If you put it “back” to the originating side of the road, it will just get back on the road and you’ll have to move it again.
At the end of the show-and-tell, the audience was allowed to pet the python and the alligator. The python’s skin is sooooo smooth.
A few of the other reptiles in the atrium, courtesy of the Atlanta Botanical Garden, Atlanta Herpetology Club of Georgia State University, the Georgia Reptile Society, the Orianne Society, and the Georgia DNR-Wildlife Resources Division and Wildlife Wonders-North Georgia Zoo.
I’ve always been a mammal kind of gal. Though I like turtles, frogs, and salamanders, I’ve never truly appreciated snakes, alligators, and lizards until now. Seeing them outside of a glass box and a really good David Attenborough Nature program will produce such an effect on a person.
I am not a chess piece,
to be bandied about like paper towels,
napkins for messy hands
I am a person
I am a dream
There is no belonging, required or conceived
There are only reeds in rivers
I am the river and the reed.
I am no better than a tree,
and one day I will return there
to the place where the sweat of the gods take me.
– yiqi 18 june 2014 late morning
Last November I saw Chris Tomlin perform at The Gwinnett Arena. Last night, I saw Third Day and Friends there. The primary reason that I went to the show was in the hopes that Third Day would perform “Your Love is Like a River.” They didn’t end up playing it, but was a great night nonetheless.
The “Friends” consisted of The Need to Breathe, Royal Tailor, Jamie Grace, and Peter Furler.
I was especially intrigued by the music of Royal Tailor, not only because of their music but also on account of their story. Each member had grown up in broken homes. The lead singer’s fifth grade teacher had told him that he would grow up to go to prison. Take that, Labeling Theory.
Royal Tailor has strong cross-over potential, not that they’d need it, but because their melodies are pop-rock with a hint or urban and their lyrics don’t scream out evangelical mantras, they would reach a larger audience. I would definitely see them again.
In the filtered rows upon rows of hamlets and picnic tables,
a lady dances with no shoes on,
oh, she cracks along the boundary
between desert and deciduous lanterns
with antlers for ears;
I often said she wanted a red garland
to wrap around her ankle,
right, so the left might remember how to stand
still, mirroring power lines or neckties in the finite wrinkle, underneath checkered napkins
of white and blue
Splinters entranced into skin,
a lady forgets with fire.
– yiqi 30 may 2014 12:06 am