i can't. because it doesn't.

i can't move.

i am glued.

i am paralyzed from movement.

even my sub-concious is preoccupied.

the necessity of blinking

forgotten.

is it fear?

is it status?

is it genuine concern?

is it a way of life?

Egypt.

Libya.

Japan.

power to the people!

people being slaughtered by their leader.

water rears its inescapable power.

it's an addiction.

i must watch.

must read the minute blog updates.

because i must know.
check a myriad of news sources

in order to find the best

information.

most current updates.

opinions.

and images.

the earth is crying.

it's people are screaming to be heard.

am i listening?

i turn on my computer.

i see blogs.

status updates.

youtube trailers, commercials.

box office top sellers.

and i can't wrap my mind around it.

so i post pictures from

last weeks bike ride.

my mind.
it can't hold it all.

Libya.

UN gives thumbs up for war.

bombs. dropping.

Japan.

nuclear reactors failing.

13,000 missing.

mothers. fathers. sisters. grandpas.

missing.

i see blogs posting

 pretty pictures.

arts & crafts.

cooking recipes.

travel plans.

funny stories.

kid stories.

new musicians.

new art openings.

personal narratives.

and.

and.

on.

and on.

i can't wrap my mind around it.

the thin hours of the morning

are getting used to my company.

because i don't sleep when

i should.

i check just one more site.

to try to understand

the devastation.

i can't understand.


mindlessly click through pictures
on Mark Zuckerberg's genius invention.
i see
trips of spring break.
bikinis.
new additions to families in barking dog form.
engagement poses.
tales of last nights drinking binge.


my mind is spinning trying to hold it all.

i don't know who to believe.

"We must go to war. Libyans are being masacurred."

"We don't want another Iraq."
"Some Peace-Prize President you have."
"Would we just wait for another Rwanda?"


i can't wrap my mind around it.


bombs dropping
screams 
protests
sign holding
accompany my dreams.


then i'm talking,
"hi how are you?"
"repeat after me, 'nice to meet you'. good kids!"
"oh your a vegetarian? that's awesome."
"i want a new shirt."
"damn korea. why can't i get a good beer around here!"


. . . . . .


what is this?
what is this world that i live in?
it cannot all be connected.
it can't be.
it just
can't.

fourth avenue

my friend sent me this.
just this morning.
and i know exactly
where
this moment was captured.


on 4th avenue.
in a old, slightly leaning duplex.
2nd floor.
in the sun porch.
on the radiator.


words placed together
on a plank of distressed, 
weather-born wood
from my
dad's wood pile.


with one word.
that speaks
so profoundly...


.
. . 
. . .
. . . . 
. . . . .
. . . . . .
. . . . . . .

. . . . . . .
. . . . . .
. . . . .
. . . .
. . .
. .
. 

today. celebrate. woman.

i met her by chance.

a couple of weeks ago.

she intrigued me.

she was locked. 

and i was curious to know what

was inside.

over dinner

she slowly opened a bit

of herself.

she shared her hopes.

her failed attempts.

and her dreams.

she spoke of diligence.

and it radiated from her core.

diligence in her relationships.

her family.

her friends.

and her education. 

her english

speaking was poised,

thoughtful and dynamic.

i'm not sure how it happened.

but she asked me

if i

would help her study more english.

i told her

she didn't need it.

her english was possibly better 

than mine.

but she insisted.

she took my number.

told me she'd call.

and she did.

i think of the word

intense.

and completely delightful.

this is her.

her thoughts are soaking

with wisdom.

learned from a life lived...

intentionally.

her awareness of self

is poignant.

almost shocking

in utter clearness.

she has dreamed the dream of

travel.

as so many have.

to her, the work of being a 

flight attendant offers this.

her 20s are scattered with several 

ventures to achieve

this dream.

but the time has not been right.

she is no stranger to failed attempts.

life is mysterious, she says.

the time has not been right.

something about our chance encounter.

she said, inspired me.

your compliment

and confidence about my english skills...

job opportunities,

and something about the time...

it feels right this time.

so together. 

in coffee shops or small cafes

she is preparing.

i, assisting.

preparations for interviews.

because this intriguing woman

is living something.

something she has dreamed.

and all the while

she is teaching me.

always try.

we must.

because our dreams are apart of us.

life is mysterious.

but we must be diligent.

and you must not be afraid of failure, she says.

because failure just means

there is something else.

but we must dream.

and we must try.

so we do not have to wonder...

the way she pulls her hair

away from her face.

her enrapturing head-back laugh that shows

off her mischievous smile.

the way she grasps my arm when we walk.

our age difference.

while six years thick.

seems unimportant as i sit across

from her.

she jokes, calling me, sam.

the korean title for a teacher.

it humbles me.

because proper sentence arrangement

seems so insignificant.

to what i am absorbing.

soaking.

up.

never be afraid to dream.

and to try.

because we must.

we must try. she says.

when we part for the evening

it is i.

whose heart is filled. and pumping hard.

from my friend,

from my teacher.

because i am aware

of the risk of trying.

of what failure can look like.

how it can

eat at the very core.

she.

she is not scared.

or so she tells me every time we meet.

this time is for fun.

she wants to do it to

not wonder...what if...

but there is a wince behind her

confident eyes

every time she says it.

i know she wants to believe it.

but trying,
trying can be scary.

giving it your very all.

is risky.

so today.

on International Women's Day.

i wanted to tell you

a story.

about a woman.

who is dreaming.

who is hoping.

who is trying.

who has almost given up.

but she hasn't.

she has taught me.

that without

dreams.

what is there?

if we are not listneing to

the small voice inside,

what are we doing?

when will we start listening?
to ourselves.

today. celebrate. women.