my electronic pen  ... what i write when no one is looking. 
november then 
december now

---

and welcome 2000, to one, and to all.

DECEMBER 31 1999 -        the time has come!!

as we drink our green tea and we launder the clothes
all watch all the clocks because nobody knowss
what this dragon year brings as my own history goes
into digits of teens, more archaic than old

it's not so futuristic, in the present, this 2000
less scary than electronic bugs and of course
less feted than some...

as is obvious the empaths sense the worry of the some
they reminisce about what was to be and what is to come
the words on the box seem to rhyme out of fate
and they hope that what is and was isn't too late

it's not so futuristic, in the present, this 2000


---

the Earl Grey still warm and the 'puter still hot
this little poot sits very still in her spot
SHE stares at the green on the screen as it glows
and wishes she still knew what she knew that she knows

---

from the mEp, Poot's Place, MoonPals, and all other things

digital belonging to little Poots ...

happy ignorant bliss to all :-)

and peace on earth in my mind too
 

DECEMBER 29 1999 -

i used to come to this place of wonder, my eyes
aglow, my heart beaming wide. every e-click i made
sent journeys of newness on their courses, followed
by a tingly spine on the edge of it's seat. a child, more
than a child again, was born. and now, i visit here
either purely out of pragmatism or otherwise with a 
sense of nostalgia, forever greatful to have been a
speck of dust on these walls, to have known the newness
of it when it itself was new. never feeling like a bystander,
and knowing what it was to be a part of something from
the outset.

and so here i sit, a few short days from the year 2000,
closing in almost in slow motion, typing into agreen screen
lined with flowers in my proverbial hair, from SanFransicso
nonetheless, finished with a career in medical research,
unfulfilled by another one in computer networking, still
thankful for both, perched on the edge of the millenium
however real however percieved, really annoyed that
the date doesn't really matter anymore because i never
write it myself anyways. if i didn't keep an ink diary,
that never would really be never and what's the point of
the date if we don't write it down. acruel trick of nature
i say.

but don't get me wrong. in one punch, i'm more thankful for
everything i have and everything i have done than speakable.
and, in a perverted way ruled partly by my genes, partly by
my flair for disguised literature, my thanks and words of
blessings are strewn on this page, however contorted :-\
 
 
 

DECEMBER 26 1999 -       orange goo

pen or mouse, where shall i frantically choose
to scribble down my last thoughts before the end
of this year, a year like most of the most recent,
whose layers merely string together with little
cohesiveness, little yearly meaning...except perhaps
this next one...

unfortunately as this millenium draws to an end, this box
leaves me with things undone feelings - a website i said i
would make and haven't - how does one predict 'bad timing'
before it materializes...?

a phone call from friends in the distance reminds me of my
current struggle between being pumped up and getting every-
thing done; which is what i have been pursuing for 34 years,
and the unavoidable fact that i just don't have that much energy
any more. i sent not one christmas card this year. our tree got
decorated today. the lights went up yesterday. no food has been
cooked, save a few vegetable dishes to be brought to my sisters.
i'm compaing these activites with what did take up my energy
and the only one task i can lay to blame is WORK. won't that
be a great claim to fame for the future, 'missed life due to work'.
that's not fair, i suppose, but in this day and age it's a laudable
excuse. bah.

the house is semi-clean. things are semi-done. the outside
doesn't show the difference. chocolates with orange goo inside
still look delicious. the orange goo still feels gooey.

no one has plans for new years and it's 1999. argh.

it's time to get me a new job, can't yo utell? :-)

i don't doo status quo very well. i don't do 'doing' my job
adequately. i don't 'do' sitting in my office being happy that
i have a job. i just haven't yet found the business that burns
my fire.

what other scribblings will i make on this digital cave before
the digits all change?

light snow has spray-painted the vehicles, the amount of electronic
equipment in front of me, old and new, is enough to irradiate a small
village, and we're both really sick of being so clean.

so that is about it for this nearly the last day of 1999.
we can leave this last millenium as one that marked many
of our lives' activities, the only 1900's we'll ever know,
parting with them inevitable but sad because they leave
behind the time when the date actually mattered.

in peace,

poots

---


 
 

DECEMBER 23 1999

turn your head poots and dream of the undreamed
while you sing the unsung. the warm air is colder now
and the leftover hangovers leave you feeling leftover.
wake slowly and chew, chew, chew. if no one understands
then just keep on being yourself. time is the only commodity
so yes december is here in all it's unsnowiness. it seems that
Christmas begins with december. it seems that it takes until
the twenty-third of this month to have four minutes enough
to sit down and ponder which month it is. Fitting, then, that
this is the last december of the millenium. i had many minutes
this one to sit down and think of the minutes of the day, and
perhaps one day i will do so again. but i imagine that all the
fast minutes until then will go by quickly.
as we wind our minds around venezuelan floods
and women selling flowers with no shoes
there is nothing more understandable than
why do i have so much? must it then be
that they have riches truly unknown to me
it is getting late as i wait for the words
cramped up in the nettles of my brainspace
half my self wants the comfort of my pootchy
pants and a good stiff scotch while the other
stands tall on the treadmill carrying a laptop
and a pager and of course both can be seen
from the eyes of both extremes, that is to say
the woman with no shoes still sees my incredible
lap of luxury hunched over this plastic box and
the drop of drying scotch in my glass, while
i really have no interest in the bragging rights
of a 34-year old woman who doesn't use her
free palm pilot nor the plethora of fancy laptops
available to her. truth is, she's more interested in
finding shoes for that woman and spewing out a
few good words over here.

i will be back before the end of the millenium.

 
 

what they might consider 'accurate information'
december 16th - since i like to mention birthdays
looking, looking, for more time.

'there's no sense being early
when all you'll do is wait;
and what's the point to hurry
when all you'll be is late'
the website tells me i need to update my browser
for them it's just an update, for me a way of life goodbye
6% of the web is still using 3.1
and stretching, i wonder why

the mexican neighbours away for navidad;
the birth of the King of Kings:
a debate to come! - will hopefully bring home some
interesting thoughts about it or perhaps at least dull ones.

what are those honest, creative thoughts running thru my mind
are there any when there's none?
i've time to spend, now, although it doesn't all depend on
time to spend. i don't have time to spend giving too much
energy to an organism which chews and spits. perhaps true
defiance to values of my father's that I mightily respect and
strive for; spent 33 years devoting himself to one beast.
but i think my bitsy wisdom tells me differently. some things
do change. they can't have me - i'm the parasite, not them.
:-)

people are missing around me - the Irish one too busy,
the construction one with a new man,
the beautiful girl on the bus a distant 500 miles to the
west, and miss wee-wee whyte also quiet some.
thinking with missing thoughts yesterday about
the gay one, the one i don't think of much but with
bittersweet adieus. i suppose the lost ones are the
saddest although i am quite certain she is happier
this way.

these are the thoughts of a girl who dreams about
strange events in her mother's backyard;
who dreams of having the desire and the root energy
to come up with some brilliant words for the end of this
century and millenium- and who doesn't have the creative
energy to do what she feels is right, only being stripped
by a world she herself decided to enter.

people are not reacting to it because they just can't fathom it,
that's all. 2000 is a big number when you've been living in
19-somethings for a thousand of years...

and one more thing, i know what's happening with the children.
but i can't tell you now.

 


---


'things are spinning if wildly;
and wildly out of control;
a greater force has trapped us
and all but stolen our soul'

---

it's not necessarily a bad thing.
 
 


 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

DECEMBER 11 1999