Poem Storage

The best leaders are barely known to their people

They act with faith, trust, and use carefully chosen words

When their work is done, people say, “we did it ourselves!”

My response:

Loneliness is a hole inside. An inner well that if one falls into, the falling never ends,

there is no bottom. That is depression. Looking inside, but without a light. Staring at

shadows and believing they are real...

) ( *

I finished an unpublished rough draft, Tao and the Art of Drowning, focusing on the question, “What does it mean to live in a fragile

temporary human body?” And now am working on another book project, Oath based on the question, "How can genocide be prevented?", which I am now realizing is the wrong question.

"What is the connection between personal violence and global violence and how can violence be prevented or at least minimized?"

Two questions leasing to more questions.

So far I just have several sentences:

"Look back to move forward"

"When is 'freedom' a dirty word?"

"When is peace a curse?"

Not too much writing so far. Sometimes hard to tell the difference between a question and a sentence. My family's lives have been ruined. But I am not yet dead, so I write in secret. Don't tell anyone

note: Mom's keys

ostensible peace (poem title)

slow to travel
thinking does nor require immediacy
history has proven to repeat itself
days and night of million of people not bombing anyone
on a daily basis

note: not to be rude: having to not read Facebook messages for now until I can catch up wimy life: want to connect/reconnect: so a big 'hi hello and how are ya?'

Julie Jeanette Trahan (also known as Dolphin Julia Trahan or/and Julia Dolphin Trahan)

(please do not copy or borrow my poems without written and signed permission: the BBC/BBC OUCH! has copyright and distribution rights)

tougher out (poem title )

style is always in
never crying is not
fashionable anymore
rampageous rarely appropriate

when I don't want to make the word of the day poetic

it began in 2008/2009ish,
a brand of comeuppance
I had never experienced
before:
I had finally grown up
and I was going to invest
in a home to call my own
my essential injured
and now I find my self
when barefoot
chasing running from
my fears

until I put on my boots
and prepare to greet
the world

road trip, Salem on the way (poem title)

poison in Sophie's food
dry air in the car
thirsty with lotion save
rampageous could be worse
I am usually the most direct target
on a witch hunt
today is children' s
rampageous beginner's disabilities

morning rampageous

when I revisit where I lived as a child, I remember
a time when
morning rampageous
were harmless

my Mom converses with me

a little part of myself,
I left outside
in a busy street
around the corner from where I left the chocolate bar bar code purchased at the Providence hospital gift shop
near where the empty lot with crab apple trees might have been; a few blocks from Liberty school where rampageous behavior
was limited to playing on
the merry go round

word spell word

when I was on the floor
you helped me stand
until I could
see
your rampageous pain
and
find help
when you
are tossed on the floor

rampageous prayer (poem title)

sitting silently praying for torture's end,
Girlie ran
so happily
her feet on the ground
stepping into my childhood
as I left a tiny part of myself
where my words about a hit to my face
was simple walking away

the soul of a dog on Memorial day 2016 (poem title)

special food for a special dog
an example to be followed
the soul of a dog on Memorial day goes to where it hurts to
think about
and doesn't even sweat

lotion fingerprints (poem title)

does the word disability
make any sense
in a world where
every fingerprint
is important
and original?

my black and white perspective

"they" ignore pleas for mercy from their victims and
rarely do I have such a
piebald outlook

my clear handprint (poem title)

life is painfully different now
having foolishly moved to a euthanasia fetish State

however, as I paint my hand in white lotion and place it firmly
on a blank white surface; seeing how my mark isn't readily visible; memories of white roses on white plastic in our used to be pink bathroom;
I miss what seemed so alive years ago

and I scoff at my silliness; my sentimentality over my Mother's toilet paper holder; perhaps because I, like her, am easy to forget, easy to overlook, easy to not even notice and what is worse is, as I grow older, I appreciate my clear handprint for what it is

lotion fingerprints (poem title)

does the word disability
make any sense
in a world where
every fingerprint
is important
and original?

wanting innocence (poem title)

there is an emotion,
without conflict
and I don't need to explain
justify or apologize
for sentimentality about
remembering when all I knew
of romance was holding hands and feeling so dangerously brave risking tiny peeps into my achy painfully over ~ sensitive artistic soul; and looking for love and never knowing how to ask, 'do you love me as much as I love you?'

peeps missing (poem title)

out to dinner with Mom on Memorial day 2016
watching the planes
stay in the sky
and the streaks
of memory immortal:
peeps missing

look in the ninth window
reflective/responsibility (poem title)
[written at a spiritual women's retreat with my church]

when I saw the pain in your eyes;
my heart broke

I am unafraid to
write
because I know that
so many others
have seen the pain in mine
and reminded me
to dance
in the pain

ww now tic noetic (poem title)

[note: misspelling below is on purpose ]

what if the most desperate emergencies
we're people
needed to write a poem before it's too late?!

what if the word
now
meant
think about what is in your heart
and inscribe
yourself

intellectual barbarians

on wheels
I can travel
faster than I ever
in my noetic mind
dreamed possible

so I wonder
why whoever
invented the
wheel is called
a barbarian

what did I expect? an adventure? (poem title)

growing up,
I didn't know what to expect:

I didn't expect to be physically disabled
or rather, I didn't expect to have disabilities

I guess learning to walk again after my evolution from ICU to a wheelchair was a miracle
at least other people said it was

then why am I surprised when I am filled with lethargy and disappointment about judgements of me from bystanders?

how many times have I circled this problem
of distancing myself from feeling humiliated and angry when scorn is placed on me

until I physically remember
a lack of expectations
is a freedom of sorts
if going on an adventure

the smell of intentional ignorance (poem title)

stronger than fetid mold
of books in the rain

wrestling with inner demons

behind the building and up the
the brick building ;
there is no shame in using the side entrance and elevator;
wrestling prowess has only inner demons in comparison

offbeat prowess in the driveway (poem title)

round and round I swirl
not in very perfect circles
though
more like toiling
without looking very graceful
however,
stretching in my four wheeled walker, the anguish of muscles neglected, the resistance against allowing human beings to be put on shelves without function or use
is activated
as tangible
as pain relief
for injuries on top
of injuries

suit worthy

condign enforcement
would mistakenly
pray for punishment
while judges seek inherent quality
regardless of clothing

diagonal to the playground
* (please don't hate me for whatever reason Contact Improvisational dance mix)

diagonal to the playground
my bagel ~ and ~ cream cheese and ice ~ cream writing offices within blocks

my window over the bus stop
I simply never heard
the traffic noise
like a quarter at 25th Avenue
cornered with
difficult to understand leader at Castro street

then
I ignored defeatists
of its too late
surrounding my affordable
San Francisco apartment

now: I continue to wish I understood there is usually a simple answer to complex problems
and I wonder
if there was a way I could have made it to Al-anon meetings (frequently)
would I have spent my time
sorrowing my existence
as a failed filmmaker
or would I have found
spiritual and emotional
myself as I have found before
as I seek and find
in mirrors of God
daily
as I look for simple answer to complex problems
accepting my difficult personality is entangled

the heart in the American hospital bag .(1977r qaqweq. (poem title )

hurry beyond I tell myself as my life explodes into wasted time;
tall women!
I can not help myself!
I love tall women
the way they talk
it's in the way they walk

and I just love her so much I don't even think about it . . .
as I explore the red chocolate box heart shaped
if injury?
then what?

hurry
please hurry

imprisoned dignity (poem title)

is it true?
do all people
put a tiny piece of themselves in prison?

do we all have
imprisoned dignity
from self imposed jailers?

perhaps
and I wonder
is there anyone
believing like I do
in that we also have in our minds the keys to freedom

cold water on a hot day (poem title )

mystical poetry expatiate
like cold water on a hot day
outside near the trees
where the heavy air
reminds of a blanket of thoughts unspoken

when you sell your own soul (poem title)

words expatiate
can never replace the harm done
when you sell your own soul

memory quality

the quality of a memory
is much
like the quality of a poem
within expatiate
there is a center
I remember about love

mid ~ street note picture poem* (poem title)

in the middle of the street
not far from a restaurant
there is a tiny expatiate note

*picture poems: it is a good name for a writing style I might continue; it feels a little bit like an incomplete sentence however it feels like a completely thought provoking poem as in, 'here is a word picture and . . . I can't think of the correct word here : like a game of football; a poet throws a football and then some body catches it and decides what the meaning of a football is

how it feels to be hated

as far as I am able to see
the healthiest way
to deal
with being hated
is to be generous
with
the
gift
of
your
mind

prayer request (poem title)

my Mom travels to Paris and returns to Portland Oregon safely; in church every
prayer is original creation and everything/everybody is blessed; deserving of respect (in my understanding)

cold air on an extra hot Sunday (poem title)

cherries grapes melons and plums;
protean race not quite won;
church hypocrisy
blowing like a pinwheel
upon a child 's knee
average quotient (poem title)

a challenge in judging good art or bad art is in-looking at the artist and understanding his or her true intentions;
there are artists excelling ina specific form
spending a lifetime on perfection;
then there are the protean creators, I like to asiestinclude myself among them,
artists with an emotion or idea to express and the medium is what ever is easiest and immediate

lamps, lamps and more lamps /picture poem (poem title)

the light of my life
protected with a ingenuous lampshade;
such a fragile lightbulb

recompense revolutionary reverie (poem title)

is there anything more compassionate than an ingenuous reverie? when there is suffering a surprising daydream is often the best medicine

honey. I told you if you want to have stress
Report some White-collar crime or other violations (poem title)

having a baby must be difficult; would anybody name their baby Stress? I don't know

we checked the DNA (poem title

we checked the DNA
a specious statement

how are you? (poem title)

pleasantries are barely manageable
at times;
I need their specious ability
as
how are you?
is a revolutionary question

my cross hip (poem title)

my furious hip's words
rage through me
like a crucifix
fashionable wrapped
in parchment
from matriarchal
times; today is encased
in what I never thought
I would live to see;
enough invisible ink
penned in expressing
music I almost never heard;
and I do not have the strength
to be as perfect as I want;
my specious hip spots my mind; a vertical vantage point
from which to outcry, 'I
am pivotal! I determine your
destiny!'
and as I wail my phrases of physicality I have faith found there are little girls
determined to survive

golden dots golden drops golden hair (poem tittle)

any alchemist can make specious suggestions
about the best way to find gold
buried within grey stone

it is a task only for the light hearted to do as bringing forth shine enthusiasm from dull mystery challenges the elements themselves

a golden dot a golden drop golden hair

golden opportunities within golden dreams

all visible when under stood
with a clear golden heart

freedom of religion aswellas freedom of assembly ¥

to neglect belief because of fear is specious;

when sin defined is lost connection from God:
resurrection is humanity

personality specious

bullying loses and strikes out
quicky find center
as hc is real

went over my head (poem title)

during my photo expose
specious decisions ;
it's exciting!
'take three!'
a photo hides
a photo conceals
a photo remembers
in the moment
'here this is what I look like'

specious smarts

not to be nasty
however, when there is
noise from the greenroom
are people smarter than they look?
or look smarter than they are?

not at the moment (poem title)

at times
I wake up
feeling feisty;
not this morning;
there are two under the table
and two more
curled up inside a milk container

word ~ of ~ the ~ day email dialogue (poem title)

what is the word ~ of ~ the ~ day?

pureblind

an entire day spent moving dog food (poem title)

to avoid
an obtuse angle
when trying to move quickly
try being
dumb
pureblind
and dim witted

ghosts of jalapeños

gone are the childhood days
when my older brother
and I
would stare
each other
down
while eating jalapeños

now he is all grown up and doesn't have time
for feisty poetry

running on wheels (poem title)

the reason to fall in love
with life is
because when it feels like anything
is do able
the odds greatly increase that the dreams scary to dream because failure has such a sharp ache
. . . in love
with life
I find
those joyfully delirious dreams of flight
without a fall
just might be
more than feisty dreams

less than half an hour (poem title)

for hours,
I danced
in the parking garage

and I couldn't email this note
without reminding you
I thought of you then
and it all seemed so easy

today isn't a feisty day
tomorrow will be a swirl;
a swirl of momentum
everyday less than half m hour
and I won't forget ever forget to think of you
and write you a note
even when my pen runs out of ink

childhood dreams (poem title)

as a child
the larger world of grown ups
impressed me so;
and adults around me had qualities I strove to develop
and perhaps most importantly
is with work dreams inveterate are woven

things I don't understand (poem title)

when my body hurts
too much to sleep
and my inveterate dog
cuddles; I wonder about
humanity

learning numbers

nothing ever happens suddenly; learning to count
to five seems obvious(
five fingers on a hand
however, an inveterate task and worth the work in five days a week

integrated injury

the commonplaceness of
sidewalk ramps; so many languages to learn and sign language becomes part of a group: busses bowing to greet wheelchair and scooter user's part way; the integration of disability or is it acceptance of the human body: the human body that wears out? the human body that survives torture? the human body that gets injured? the human body that is born the way a human body is born?
a normal life: my inveterate goal: an Actress amid Actors and Actresses, as the play inside the play is like a tree trunks rings or water rings after a stone dives bravely into the rapids determined to find the bottom: the rushing current hiding all evidence of rings before nature has a chance to count reoccurring patterns a tiny disturbance creates
this is the human body I understand: my human body: it is as if every person is an instruction and I am a piece of paper with my mission statement written in my personal DNA ink
and from the almost eight billion pieces of paper alive today, there are links to books and scrolls and manuscripts:
every set of instructions, a human story where the protagonist writes and is written;
so perhaps I merely follow an improvisational instruction from childhood
a time when simply watching me stand and walk caused people to smile joyfully

required dialogue

a play requires dialogue
or it isn't really a play; an ingenious monologue is what it is: an ingenious monologue: a play is a play

eating rhubarb pie in back shed (poem title)

when I eat rhubarb pie,
I do it in a restaurant
without the slightest bit of shame
my ingenious plan to converse
with ice cream at least once a week

peer pressure

it has always been done this way?
a tradition of ignorance is nothing to be proud of;
what does an ingenuous resistance look like?

I think it involves much handshaking with both friends and enemies and peer pressure to breathe deep on a Saturday night

night thieves

dreams are life at night
when night thieves
steal ingenious children's
pens and pepper.
food is lost

ingenious nature

if I look foolish
because I am caught
off guard
so easily,
it is only
because I
want human nature
to be gentle

old wisdom/ a wrap around poem (poem title)

is it true to grow old is to grow wise or is it to grow old is the result of being wise because it seems to me newborn babies have infantile wisdom on their side then again how is it possible to have insight into knowledge without experiencing the circumstance aswellas its opposite, or at least a few alternatives then again wisdom is not measured in comparison to an individual; wisdom is timeless; at times I feel there is wisdom in punctuation or rather allowing a personal communication style to be found, complete with pauses, stops and juxtapositions in ideas or statements and emphasis given, within a series of complex structure: as I grow older the difference between a sentence and a question seem less important; both having ingenuous wisdom and both tending to run on at times

hug a mug

a sturdy mug goes a long way;
the necessities often written
off as details or little or trivial
make warming up in the cold possible; cups and saucers are all very polite however for rude types like myself a thick won't ~ break ~ when ~ dropped mug is a like a hug reminding me I don't have to look pretty to look good

the story of the hugger mugger (poem title)

maybe no one has ever heard the epic tale of the hugger mugger; it was rumored he was over six feet tall and weighed a couple hundred pounds:

he would look people in the eye and in a deep voice say, 'I'm gonna hug you'; and before anyone could reply the hugger mugger would hug them in his big hugger mugger arms

I don't know what happened to the hugger mugger. maybe he moved or maybe he got tired of hugging. I do know whoever he is he surprised lots of people into laughing at serious stuff and enjoy being hugged

your ugly mug (poem title)

when I see you
and I smile
it is because you are so damn ugly
and I like you all the more
and I wish I could be like you

a way to survive (poem title)

if you. my dear Face book friends,
have ever wondered what the sound of the voice of the person you are chatting with sounds like,
you are not alone

did our shared planet Earth become more destructive with the industrial revolution?
is the human race a breed of hugger muggers with cars?

radio, get on the radio snd let your sound fly

when I serenade you/ please don't disappear
(poem title)

do you hear me serenading you through the argle ~ bargle of so many voices?

everybody talking at the same time doesn't have to be confusing; how else can we learn to harmonize if we silence ourselves?.

my gravelly singing voice breaks with sobs that my eyes never cry; as a vocalist, I'm not so good and I stumble over my articulation: and I ask for help to express what weighs on my heart and is in my mind

so maybe you won't ever hear me sing, 'please don't disappear' in person?

can you hear the ambitions and the aspirations and the enthusiasm and the endurances I am trying to send you?

listen for the vigilance, vehemence, verve, vim, vivacity, vigor, verve, vibrancy, vigor, vim, vitality, vivacity, vogue, vigilance, vehemence, vigilance, vehemence, verve, vim, vivacity, vigor, verve, vibrancy, vigor, vim, vitality, vivacity, vogue, vigilance, vehemence because it is all my gift to you

and if you think this poem is for you. then your suspicions are probably true

an end to violence in advertising (poem title)

there are many overlapping voice underneath the yelling argle ~ bargle calling for an end to violence in advertising

if you hear me shout, at least you will understand my response

my argle~ bargle recording

sometimes real tangible life is was more interesting then imagination; sometimes the daily mundane chore is
the center worth
to hold on to

voice to text poem with corrections: when I don't have time to write (poem title)

when argle ~ bargle is too
intense and I don't have time to write, I rely on technology

voice to text poem without corrections: when I don't have time to write (text poem)

when I don't have time to really Punta little green goop local is too intense and I don't have time to me is always good to see balloon

poem today (poem title)

as you read this poem
can you concentrate on today?
can you think/remember
what is your Mother doing
as you read this puckish
poem today?

another reason women are important, (poem title)

has there ever been any Puckish man
not smiling, at least inwardly, about women and how we, as over generalizations abound anyway, are catalyst
in reminding the serious things in life are easier to handle with a feminine touch

because you can't hold a fictitious character

the sexiest woman in advertising (poem title)

the sexiest woman in advertising is the woman in my imagination; maybe I have seen a photo of a similar woman in a magazine; maybe in a movie; or on television;

the sexiest woman in advertising is the woman in my imagination; and she loves me more and wants to be alone with me and only me when I spend a little money on education or sports or purple stage lights or purple hair dye so I'll be smarter and stronger, more creative and I won't look like everybody else

and when I spend a little money on music or food or boots or books; maybe I'm not thinking about sexy women: it reminds me that the human race would've been over long ago if it weren't for sexy women in charge of balancing the budget

if Shakespeare's writing's were banned

if Shakespeare's writing's were banned
there would be no mischievous Puckish forest imps;
only an absence of Hamlet's hat;
and King Lear wouldn't trust any of
his children

hockey skates (poem title)

for whatever reason
hockey never interested me;
goalish. puckish, skatish, netish: none of these things make me think of a game

when she barks (poem title)

digging digging digging
digging in the dirty dirt
and I go everywhere
with a dirty digging dog
and neither of us
are hoity ~ toity
when we bark

body is temple (poem title)

my soul is red; perhaps this is
all I truly understand as I clean poison from my dog's food bowl and my drinking cup

I have so much to learn from those with bodies of integrity and I try to listen and personalities seems hoity ~ toity and desperate

am I made from the red sea? water from red dirt?
the black sea?
am I made from desert sand? mountain ridges? melted snow?

if a body is a temple then my soul's color is all I really need to understand

waking up nauseous

waking without noticing the sunlight
my guts vomit the hurly ~ burly
of top hats stolen from
off the top of my book case
and my poetry web page
no longer opening
in the City of Roses

a poem with a long title: If You Had Only 24 Hours Left Would You Write or Type A Poem? (poem title)

if I thought I only had 24 hours left to survive on this beautiful planet I would write or type a poem but I wouldn't worry about whether or not it would actually be my last poem ever (partially because I don't know what happens after death but I suspect lots of poetry gets written in some form)

if I thought I only had 24 hours left to survive on this beautiful planet I would write a letter asking world leaders to improve the lives of people (and animals) in their own countries before blaming other countries for not being good enough

if I thought I only had 24 hours left to survive on this beautiful planet I would ask every single person to write a poem (then maybe type it) and then combine it with dance moves and then decide what kinds of sounds they want to hear

if I thought I only had 24 hours left to survive on this beautiful planet I would try not to be afraid

if I thought I only had 24 hours left to survive on this beautiful planet I would make certain that my mobility dog, Girly (a ChiwawaTerrier Mix) had a loving home with people to exercise her and feed her every day (as she cannot open dog food packages or fill her water bowl and she is scared to even walk on the floor or go outside because dogs three times her size have biten her so badly she needed stitches and sometimes the only reason she has escaped with her life is she runs really fast)

hurly burly world history (poem title)

hurly ~ burly can't erase slavery; consent is necessary in innate freedom

my red sweatshirt (poem title)

when I vote
I vote for survival ;
if somewhere in this
hurly ~ burly world
I could write a poem
or choreography a dance
that would bring comfort
to the mourning,
I would write it in my red
sweatshirt because my
red sweatshirt reminds me
how I was sent warmth

it's all about the garden (poem title)

sitting here in the garden ( a garden with walls and carpet and temperature control), wondering why people are cruel to each other, especially since most people don't appreciate being the recipient of cruelty:
when I realized mulct is spelled a lot like mulch:
big picture/little picture:
my inner wisdom speaks in a tiny hesitant voice
with a pleadingly scared look in her eyes like my chihuahua/terrier service dog when even I forget she doesn't like her head patted if you move your hand above her head too fast copyrighted “They” Might Be Coming To Get You (poem title) “They “ might be coming to get you as “they” might not realize or accept that a quail sounds an SOS alert and doesn’t chase anyone at all copyrighted You As A Country (poem title) In ruling yourself or in ruling a country a measurement and a purpose are : there is you in comparison smarter <><> are you less than or more than? there are wealth and weapons and windows <><> do you use them? A quail has the ability to fly copyrighted A Notebook In The Postal Mail (poem title) despite possible future generations possible definition of improvement paper is stylish and exactly what you need when you need paper for a note now times have changed in the over fifty years I have been alive and stamp prices and stamp faces have changed AsWellAs the importance of a notebook in the postal mail as what any woman writes down to tantalize to remember to improve to excel to scandalize to be extraordinary to influence to nurture to activate to inspire to recover to reclaim to restore confidence to value to enjoy to mystery to expand to endure to correspond to love to astound to emote to familiarize to rebuild to presence to repeat to experience to be sturdy is of vital significance and worth the cost of sending through the statisphere (ignore the hype) copyrighted Big Floppy Ears (poem title) Girlie Dog never seems to be ashamed of her appearance in fact her behavior is she assumes everyone is delighted to see her regardless of her lack of big floppy ears: I have never witnessed her tantalize or argue her cause: She certainly doesn’t aspire to be President or to steal other’s identities, She is Girlie Dog! Able to jump up responding instantly because despite being hurt disappointed and sometimes neglected she cares about herself and the world she lives in copyrighted As Many Newspapers As My Dog Can Carry (poem title) In my humble opinion tantalize is a subject for adults Children have sexualities of course however there is a difference between age appropriate and censorship Inappropriate censors are backseat writers : and I don’t mean backseat writers in a good or literal way like drunks writing love notes in the backseat while the designated driver demurely keeps eyes front and center or Brownies and Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts writing diaries and journals and notes while their Camp Counselor or Big Sister or Big Brother chauffeurs fledging reporters : I also don’t mean back seat writers as unorganized children doing their last minute homework as harried parents or school bus drivers steer their vehicles schoolward and onward I mean it is extremely easy to talk for hours about what you don’t mean As it is easy to verbiage for hours about what you would do if you were at an event that already occurred It is however very difficult to write down and publish knowing others will read and have opinions and possibly censor basic questions: how? why? what? who? when? where? rather than write answers requiring developments and processes and causes and incitements and facts and faces and names and a time and a place Number Six Number Six Number Six Number Six Number Six Number Six Journalism is a lot of work and back seat drivers rarely write their censoring spew with identifiable names and identifiable faces enabling an informed response What my daily morning habit was: purchasing a latte and a newspaper and finding a place at an empty table my service dog, Girlie would sit on my seated walker platform seat with her face pointed at Seattle’s daily news as if she were reading the headlines of silly human antics while I negotiated my wheeled way through occupied tables and isles of purses and backpacks Girlie Dog always looks like she is about to speak fluently in human language with completely independent opinions on world events. However she doesn’t do much humanish stuff. She isn’t one of those dogs that will fetch a rolled up newspaper and carry it in her mouth News is often about events already occurred and Girlie Dog doesn’t seem to dwell on the past much. Her bark calls immediacy to attention and the newspapers she carries are the paper and ink measurement of how the human race is evolving copyrighted a word I can/t spell (poem title) there is a word I can't spell and I don't know what it means so do words define me ? or do I define words? note: not to be rude: having to not read Facebook messages for now until I can catch up wimy life: want to connect/reconnect: so a big 'hi hello and how are ya?' Julie (Dolphin) (Julie Jeanette Dolphin Trahan pseudonyms: Dolphin_J or/ and Dolphin Julia Trahan or/and Julia Dolphin Trahan) (please do not copy or borrow my poems without written and signed permission: the BBC/BBC OUCH! has copyright and distribution rights) Double Dog Jabberwocky (poem title) Girlie Dog jumped into her bed on my walker while Sophie Dog was Jumping and and She flew backwards into and I pulled it into my lap canine the air and kiss I started laughing almost slid off the Girlie Dog’s bed walker into Sophie Dog’s big mouth with sharp teeth as I we both barking at her ruff wagging landed with a thump was in motion of sitting in my chair barking I grabbed woofing copyrighted Double Jabberwocky (poem title) kame anticholinergic youk yean jump evapotranspiration bioamplification apartment orbitosphenoid bascule cytoarchitectonics biobibliography Zoroastrianism emergency reinterpretation rood kith jurisdictional Walpurgis chronostratigraphy oversimplification biopharmaceutical waterbody copyrighted On The Subject Of Water Boarding (poem title) of the four elements: ground fire water air, water is not really all that unique in water’s ability to seep into forgotten and neglected sites or in water’s combination of destructive and sustaining qualities however if you have ever cried a tear about whelm then perchance you know that weeping is not made of fire or air and perchance you will agree that the best way to convince someone to tell you something they have probably been wanting to tell someone they trust their entire life is to sit and talk with them until there are reasons and a context and answers to all of the whys someone would hold smoldering secrets especially when to someone people whelm only increases the necessity of secrecy copyrighted Dogs Flying Helicopters (poem title) A dog flying a helicopter is a sight I would like to see the only major barrier is humans arguing what breed the smart dog should be In matters of guiding the helm a Husky would quickly be whelm as ‘copters have curt and precise moves so a Dalmatian might be the dog behooves as far as I can look I have seen a dog standing in a brook as far as I can see I have never seen a dog climb a tree as far as dogs being ‘copter pilots I say why not? copyrighted Note sent to FBI via the FBI website web form on the day after Fathers’s Day Monday June Eightteenth 2018 : Dear FBI, priorities; my Mom’s safety, my safety and the safety of those concerned with our safety including our dogs and people interacting with me in a respectful way mom is driving to have car washed and repaired from when some guy in the park ran into the door behind the driver while my niece K was visiting I am not here to update her schedule for Facebook stalkers or WASHINGTON State psychotics getting their vengeance against me for existing through raping old women we have scheduled time to go to the women’s meeting at Unity church portland oregon this evening and I already don’t want to go life would be much more enjoyable if asswipes hadn’t/ didn’t make everything unpleasant : and maybe some of those heroin addicted child trafficking shitheads would find some delusional fund paying assholes for being obnoxious Note sent to FBI via the FBI website web form on Monday June Eleventh 2018 : Dear FBI, priorities; my Mom’s safety, my safety and the safety of those concerned with our safety including our dogs and people interacting with me in a respectful way Oregon Health Plan �� Nazi Warning WTF? Please be concerned about Sophie Dog’s and Girlie Dog’s safety: food water and whereabouts mom and K driving? silence in house I had forgotten about Athens’s Favorite Sewing Project ~~~~~~~~~~~~ K and mom going to EPCC without ~~~~~~~~~~,, mom went to car to make a phone call ~~~~~~~ Girlie Dog’s toothpaste is painful to even touch today. And her prescription medication which I just refilled is missing. Girlie Dog is my service dog Also. her liquid non prescription medication spilled out completely from a bottle which was sealed when I went to sleep last night. Her medication was in the same bag as my sterile bandages I just received for my foot wound: (the bandages seem alright however I haven’t had time to change my bandage yet today) the hair gel aswellas my Usual Bold Coffee is toxified and I am having to make due without glasses last night K mom and I managed to have what would likely be a typical evening if asswipes hadn’t invaded at least my life K practiced singing and an instrument whole mom played the piano; I could never guess stalker psychopath psychobabble however I remember confusedly trying to figure out what the hell was going on when I asked my Mom to record Moonlight Sonata for a stage performance sounteack Also, I just realized I left the empty bottle from my penacillian prescription on my desk and asswipes tend to target what is most obvious to “them” Also, please remind asswipes the BBC didn’t ask me to be in a documentary *over a decade ago* became I am an American with disabilities and I drink coffee I have no idea what happened in 2001/2002 however if it has taken nearly two decades for asswipes to figure out I didn’t leave San Francisco to steal from my parents AND a celebite lesbian with disabilities cannot make a large edit end of Note sent to FBI via the FBI website web form on the day after Fathers’s Day Monday June Eightteenth 2018 : Hey Dolores Street (poem title) Perchance times and San Francisco have changed since 1984, however I remember walking on Valencia street like it meant something: controversial bookstores along sturdy worn from walking sidewalks leading to get away cafes next to real graffitied alleyways where if ya have somethin’ to say and can’t afford a canvas, there are murals waiting for every blank wall Then a few years later I found out Delores Street is the official lesbian street and I should correct my thinking what makes a woman strong is she becomes the soul of wherever street or road or area she dwells in her spirt stretches far into the Earth with her invisible roots so if perchance whelm occurs a woman does not float away easily as grief and sorrows stain like a Valencia orange copyrighted A Fish With A Bicycle On Father’s Day 2018 (poem title) my Father used to send me books: he sent me swim fins so I could whelm fearlessly my Dad also sent me bicycle shirts and bicycle shorts and I am sending him the thought that a woman not married to a man can marry herself and the world copyrighted Hawaiian Summits (poem title) looking from the summit of a Hawaiian mountain there is the blue of the constantly moving ocean and there is tropical vegetation and the air is always warm welcoming the tantalize to be alive and healthy: Hawai’i is America’s garden copyrighted Note sent to FBI via the FBI website web form on Father’s Day Sunday June Seventeenth 2018 Dear FBI, priorities; my Mom’s safety, my safety and the safety of those concerned with our safety including our dogs and people interacting with me in a respectful way please remind sleazoids especially as it is Pride weekend in Portland Oregon and I have been actively prevented from participating in WA and HI and CA and OR since producing Body Talk = Survival: intersections of race sex[uality] and disability in San Francisco in 1995 where two Uniformed police invaded without explanation or reason I hid the package of underwear that was placed on my bath bench AsWellAs the soap I used to enable removing the tape from my open wound without pain and my foot bandages are also hidden and “they” could learn to keep their disgusting sexualization of accessibility’s aids and medical equipment allowing people possibly wounded after witnessing a violent crime to continue their lives independently Also: my worry mom inside house after a restaurant breakfast before service at Unity church portland oregon on Father’s day mom inside house after a restaurant breakfast before service at Unity church portland oregon on Father’s day Sunday Father ‘s Day ~~~~~~~~ mom outside laundry side ~~~~||||||| mom downstairs Facebook stuck ~~~~~~~, mom unloading groceries needs ASAP assistance ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ mom driving to kids end of school presentation I am airing my foot while opportunity allows Saturday ~~~~,,,,,~~~~ the white shampoo and soap in a zip lock plastic bag in the hallway near my doorway as I was going to bed I moved it out of the walkway Sophie Dog played with it and given a choice would not personally use it ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ mom outside laundry side ~~~~~~~~~|| mom driving to Burgerville and expected to return home quickly as my niece’s visit is over ~~~~~~~~~~~~ paratransit driver leaving my eyesight ani kboo verses recovery from sex work ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Note: I am not getting off paratransit to go to the foot Doctor right now ~~~~~~~~,, Girlie Dog ate her Meals On Wheels treat Don gave her before I knew it (I moved Girlie Dog into the living room since I am in this part of the house) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ K waited in car for mom mom and K driving to cafe various Note sent to FBI via the FBI website web form on Saturday June Sixteenth 2018 Dear FBI, priorities; my Mom’s safety, my safety and the safety of those concerned with our safety including our dogs and people interacting with me in a respectful way mom driving to kids end of school presentation Also, I am concerned about my niece being used as focal point to systematically interfere with Southern Californian medical systems ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Oregon Health Plan �� Nazi Warning WTF? Please be concerned about Sophie Dog’s and Girlie Dog’s safety: food water and whereabouts mom driving to kids end of school presentation I am airing my foot while opportunity allows Saturday ~~~~,,,,,~~~~ the white shampoo and soap in a zip lock plastic bag edit end of Note sent to FBI via the FBI website web form on Father’s Day Sunday June Seventeenth 2018 poor people's coffee (poem title) in a copacetic worldliness the beginning of a beginning day is an opportunity to embrace my much mocked humanity so I begin today with coffee I can afford copyrighted body is temple (poem title) my soul is red; perhaps this is all I truly understand as I clean poison from my dog's food bowl and my drinking cup I have so much to learn from those with bodies of integrity and I try to listen and personalities seems hoity ~ toity and desperate am I made from the red sea? water from red dirt? the black sea? am I made from desert sand? mountain ridges? melted snow? if a body is a temple then my soul's color is all I really need to understand copyrighted note: not to be rude: having to not read Facebook messages for now until I can catch up wimy life: want to connect/reconnect: so a big 'hi hello and how are ya?' Julie Jeanette Trahan (also known as Dolphin Julia Trahan or/and Julia Dolphin Trahan) (please do not copy or borrow my poems without written and signed permission: the BBC/BBC OUCH! has copyright and distribution rights)
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