Monday, October 18, 2004
returned.
she has.
my head is full of ringing blood.
sting. thump. a poem for you. to beg your forgiveness.

2 "The"s. 2 "How"s.
the clean cut skyline of old Stockholm.
the engaged man who took an ice cream scoop to my insides.
how much wine has passed through this liver?
how much art has entered these travelling eyes?
the lights of Harwich twinkle a goodbye
the sea churns grey underneath our Dutch ferry
how can i sleep on this rocking beast
how can i forget to hear her dreaming?
the deep wicked kiss
the lonely hands sinning.
how the time flies by, undetected, unrecorded.
how the meals come in, go out, and feel strange.
the song leaks out to the French and the Germans
the foreign hands clap and they cheer like lost cousins
how i love them, insanely
how i fall at their altars, homeless.
the shores are moaning-
the girl is made of glass.

my lovers. i bought fake pearls. and i had to find a winter coat..it's chilly in northern england. what to tell...there is too much...too much....

thank you for your letters....i feel redeemed. you blow winds for my weary kite, great strong winds. Your gusts made me paint when all i wanted to do was go numb.
those I'll show you when the second volume is complete. The first (Ravens) is ready and I'm taking it on tour...before it's available anywhere else....eventually the website will sell it.....oooo....a baby born....

Some are perplexed by "Day One"s sounds and attitude. I can only reply that I must "speak from my centre" to quote Mr. Cohen, and that is precisely what I did. Truth is my one interest. And last year, the truths I found almost destroyed me. We must be fierce in the struggle. Fierce and unrelenting...honest to the bloody bone...so bare it terrifies. Let the naysayers come. I'll go deeper.

xoxoxoxox
ss

Great entry.

Nice to hear that her paintings might be seen on tour.

i absolutely LOVE her art. i can't wait until i can purchase an original "slean" lol

Thursday, October 28, 2004
my saviours, something for you....
i've seen great fire
coming forth in towering waves

me and agony cowered under the bedsheets,
bled like a suicide,
ate down our nails in fear.

but nothing -
no weather yet
has taken us down.
this frame
and the unfortunate tenants of my mind
remain alive.

my own eyes chill in the hotel window.
who is she?
where is she going?
does someone love her? and why?

silence

then the reflection smiles
and i have my answer.



.....i'll be headlining across canada in march...hope to see you then, salute your bravery.....
xo
ss

hooray! In march! I can't wait.

New Journal Entry Today

all i can think about is another book,
another record.

i can't think about my phone bill,
an apartment,
a comfortable bed,
the serious business of being alive.
nutrition is a nuisance,
it pours kerosene on the
brittle hypochondriac
whose body is a weather vane
and can only translate
a universe's suffering
(whereever it may be)

television is pure horror.
leisure is stained with sin.
clickety click...the industrious companies twitter
(who is a company?
they are named, they conjure images, but
you can't shake it's hand,
or ask it to hold you.)

all this clicking that the world now knows.

computer for president.
come back awe...let's light it on fire.

my bank account is a sieve.
my heart is a brothel
my arms are Mrs. Dempsters
they want to be saints,
but lie down with the devil
simply to exercise love,
see how far it will go.

how far. how deep can you love...
love the despicable?
love the open question that - like the mouth of a starving child -
will never
ever
close?
-s

hey glorious young. hope you've been busy making mad beauty. i'm counting on you.
nothing is litter, it's all gold. I love you,....

There's a new journal entry (posted yesterday)

http://www.sarahslean.com/blogger.html

Joel, thanks for posting the notice...

Is it just me, or does Sarah have this amazing ability to speak to directly, so honestly to all of us?

I adore her posts, infrequent as they may be.

...jim

whoa... i'm seeing black and white stripes on my monitor after reading that. :shock: