Betrayed

Betrayed

All these years, I've never found out
who it was that betrayed me
It can't possibly be one of my girls
I invested in them when I was in my prime
I was convinced that 2 years would have been enough time
to imprint them with my mark
to ensure that they were both pretty and smart
and not taken in by all the lies of the world
I invested equally in each of my 6 girls
All those times shared underneath the elm
was wasted... and we can't start over again

Just another poem based on The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie. I just wanted to get something done before I go and watch the Amazing Race. It's been a good November I feel. I wrote a poem everyday except for last Wednesday and I've made 3 youtube videos. Not bad. Last week, I read 4 books or maybe it was 5... I don't remember. I got a chin up bar and I started doing chin ups at all times of the day. I suspect I hurt my abs doing chin ups this morning. Is that even possible? What else? Oh yeah, I also blew out all the candles. That's my teaser for an upcoming piece. Peace out.

Her Prime

Her Prime

There was a time
when she was in her prime
that we would sit under the elm
and hear stories about her lovers
but now she grows tired
and we can see it in her eyes
tired from reading that one letter
tired from crying night after night

I just finished reading The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie by Muriel Spark. It was quite an enjoyable read but I'm glad it was a short novella. I don't know how much I would have enjoyed it if it had gone on and on. Miss Jean Brodie talked about being in her prime a lot. It makes me wonder when my prime will come or if it's already passed. Growing up, I was told that it's a disaster to have your prime in high school because you will spend the rest of your life looking back to those days and wondering if they will ever return. I had an alright time in high school. I wouldn't say that I was in my prime then. I guess that is somewhat good news for me. Peace out.

The Early Winter

The Early Winter

Standing on the shore in West Egg
Thinking back to that summer day
when I was happy with my Daisy Kaye
I return 5 years later
reinvented

Our future together was bright
until that dreadful night
at the edge of summer entering fall
and the unnecessary accident
and the husband who was hell bent

On taking his revenge
as I take my first and last summer swim
he introduces me to lead
Everything grew cold
as autumn was skipped entirely
and I knew I would never be with her
as I am consumed by the early winter

Hmmm... that wasn't any good. I read The Great Gatsby today. It was alright. I liked it much more than I did The Heart is a Lonely Hunter. Maybe my preference of books is betraying my ability to appreciate "good" literature. I must say that I enjoyed Twilight much more than both these books. I like books about love and that have a plot, and maybe a hero and some crises for him/her to deal with... maybe a villian or 2 would help as well. Anyways, today I wanted to stay in my tradition of writing with the mindset of one of the fictional characters. Jim Gatz ftw. Peace out.

The Candles

The Candles

Another year,
another birthday
a cake with candles
and a choice to blow them out
or not
unlike most years
the song ends with darkness
as not a single flame survives

I'm not sure how common the game is but when we blow out the candles on our birthday cakes, the number of candles that remain lit are the number of girlfriends you'll have that year. Well, yesterday was the first time there were no candles remaining since I've heard about the game. I debated about whether or not I wanted to blow out all the candles. It was a tough decision because I do like to stick to traditions and keep streaks alive, but I guess 2 streaks ended last night... candles and poems. In retrospect, it wasn't such a tough decision though because I only have a little over 8 and a half months to redo the whole thing over again. Maybe in a future poem, I'll discuss why I chose to blow out the candles. Peace out.

Danger

Danger

Help me
I'm in danger
I've fallen in love with a stranger
I know nothing about her
but I think about her constantly
I wonder how she tastes
or what it would be like with my hands on her waist
Rescue me please
I'm in danger, I'm in love with a stranger

Read Twilight yesterday. I wish I was a vampire. Hahahaha... doing this daily is getting hard again. Not sure how much longer I can keep this up. Peace out.

> 5

> 5

How many takes does it take
to make
a video with a sore throat?
It's nearly impossible to balance
the volume of the voice
and guitar
Frustration is when you hit
the high note and get the lyric wrong
If you were healthy
this would have been an easy song
How many takes?
I don't know but it's greater than 5

Kinda frustrated at the moment. Just spent some time trying to record my video for video monday but nothing seemed to be going right. I couldn't balance the volumes at all and the ds wasn't cooperating and my voice wasn't behaving. Oh well. I'll give it another shot tomorrow. Peace out.

Midnight Snack

Midnight Snack

In bed
with teeth brushed four hours ago
I stir under the covers
starving
I wake
and grab two yogurt covered granola bars
Just the perfect midnight snack
now back to dreaming up a way
to get you back

Hahahaha, typical of me to end a perfectly innocent poem like that. I like. Recently, I've been working out more. I've found my way back onto the treadmill and have started doing some weight training for my handstand push up training and on Thursday, I got a chin up bar. I went crazy doing chin ups on that first day and now I can barely squeeze out two. I guess I need more time to recover. Anyways, with my new calorie burning activities, I've been starving at night. Last night, I finally gave in and ate something. It's been a while since I've eaten in bed. I wonder why I had those granola bars so handy. I guess past-me was looking out for present-me. Good job. Peace out.

The Woods

The Woods

It lies waiting in the woods
in the dark, it is gathering its strength
It caught us by surprise
the savageness within us
so uncontrollable
so primal in its desire
the urge to eat meat
and to hunt and kill
We are the monster
the beast is not from the water or air
It comes from within

I just finished reading Lord of the Flies. I haven't read it in quite some time. I remember vaguely what happened but now I remember a lot better. :) I wonder if people would turn savage without adult supervision... or if adult's would have fared much better without authority figures and checks and balances that keep society running. I love the tv show Lost and this book has a lot of similarities to the show. The creators of Lost have said that they are really influenced by other materials out there like Lord of the Flies and The Stand and the Wizard of Oz and such. Makes you wonder if anything out there is original anymore. And it makes you wonder why so many stories are the same. Is it because they speak truth? Peace out.

Pouring

Pouring

It is never gentle
when the rains come
The streets are awash
with the torrents of water
The autumn leaves that found
temporary homes by the curbs
washed away, into the gutters
Old things appear new
lost things are found
The old man must be snoring
it's not just raining, it's pouring

Yes, that was my piece for today. It's not really obvious but again, I wrote this piece based on this week's episode of Smallville. It's about how when one girl comes into your life, you can expect another one as well and then a big mess is made and it seems to have come out of nowhere. I feel like my life has always been dry or it's been pouring... nothing really in between. I've put my umbrella away for the year. Peace out.

Familiar Tune

Familiar Tune

The haunting notes drift in from the other room
like the scent of chocolate chip cookies but with more gloom
The familiar tune resonates inside the four chambers of your heart
shaking your very core, every wall seems to be falling apart
And you wonder where you've heard this song before
or why the melody reminds you of her
and how she fails to see
that things will never be the way they used to be

I started this piece a few times today. I wanted to write about familiar melodies or similar melodies. There was a story on the news today about a song sounding like another song and the controversy. I wonder if the same thing happens with poems. Maybe someone out there thinks I'm "stealing" from them or maybe someone out there is handing in my poems for a highschool assignment. Who knows... maybe that would explain some of the weird hits I've been getting. Peace out.

Straight

Straight

Newly fallen snow
in an open field
The destination can clearly be seen
a small gate across the open space
Head down, you face the biting winds
each step brings you into knee high snow
You're cold and want to get there quickly
Mind your feet and stay true
Another 20 yards
You've made it through
and turn around and you learn something small
you can't walk in a straight line at all

I'm rushing this piece cause I have to go soon. I only gave myself 5 minutes to write the poem and the rambling. Well, today, I went to a walk to the ATM and that involves crossing this open field. I'm very familiar with this field as I had to cross it every day in junior/senior high as I walked to school. I remember that after it just snows, the path gets covered and a new path needs to be made. Many times, I would be the first guy there to blaze the trail. Try as I did, I was never able to make a straight path. It would meander this way and that way. Oh well, times up. Peace out.

Redo

Redo

If I could
I would
do everything differently
Not because I'm drowning in regrets
but because I know there was a better option
a secret option
a smarter option
If I could
I would
I'd redo it
I'd redo it all

I enjoy playing video games and like to play them through twice. The first time through, I like to pay attention to the story and just have fun. On my second play through, I don't notice the story very much and try to work towards what gamers call a "perfect save". This means that every thing is done to the utmost. All the secrets are unlocked and attained, all the characters are maximized to their perfect form. It's the perfectionist in me that demands this second play through.

I wonder what life would be like if we were all given a chance to do a second play through. I touched on this in an earlier post when I wondered how people could live without regrets. I think if everyone was given a chance to redo their life, the world would be so different. Even when I think back to my first year in university, I can think of so many different things I would have done differently to make my life better. I dunno. Just a thought. Peace out.

The Shelf

The Shelf

I don't think about you anymore
Except when I'm lying on the floor
I lied
I don't say this in jest
I think about you in the interval between each breath
I probably shouldn't have told you this
because now we'll only be awkward
and I've reversed all the months of progress
that I've made
Lying to you
and lying to myself
It's time to start the streak over again
It's day one. I put my feelings again on the shelf

Hahahaha, I wrote the first part of this poem for a YouTube video that I just made. I thought it was too good to not finish so here's the rest of it. I'm starting to run out of good songs to cover. Especially because I want them to be fairly obscure but who knows. Do I even know any obscure songs? Is it arrogant of me to think that I listen to good music that no one else does? I guess it is. That sucks. Boo. Peace out.

Hands

Hands

I long to be comfortable on my hands
with my feet in the air
fighting gravity
desperately trying to balance
in a graceful handstand
Next time you turn my life upside down
I'll be ready

Lately, I've been trying to learn to do handstands with the ultimate goal of being able to do handstand push ups. Training is going fairly slowly. I don't really have much room in the house to train and I don't know how to fall gracefully. I need a lot of room. I'm currently doing handstands against a door... it's the only open wall space I got. I guess it's hard to have stuff cluttered around a doorway. I need a stronger core. That's for sure. Peace out.

To Be Savage

To Be Savage

I am Bernard Marx
an alpha trapped in the body of a gamma
Can't we just be alone?
I wish you were mine
I wish that you didn't belong to everyone else
Pneumatic as you are

Oh to be savage
the late John Savage
appreciator of tears
lover of Shakespeare
the necessity of tears
a yearning for God
that doesn't manifest Himself as an absence

I read Brave New World today. It's the first time I've read it since I had to read it for highschool. I wonder how people come up with new ideas. After reading the book, I think I could come up with my own version of a failed utopia but I wonder how the first person did it. How did they do it without reference material? How do people invent new phrases? How do people create things? Maybe no one has ever created anything. Maybe everything that has been created has been based on something else... a deep yearning in the heart.

When I first was reading Brave New World, I really felt like Bernard Marx. But as you meet John Savage, I feel like you are forced to feel like you're John. I wonder if everyone feels that when they read it. Does everyone see themselves as the hero in a book? Are there people out there who read books and think that they are the villian? I wonder. Peace out.

Always Never

Always Never

The new fallen snow is being moved around
by the whirling winds of change
Creating valleys and hills among the pre-existing snow drifts

At the gym, I'm doing all that I can
I push myself to my limits with every lift
It's been 6 days since the land mass shift

I thought that maybe perhaps I would try one last time
I thought my approach was oh so clever
she shot me down at once and said the answer was always never

I really like this one... not because it is true or anything of the sort but because it is the first piece that I wrote based on an idea I wrote in my poetry idea log book. Hahahaha. I hopefully will not lose any more good ideas based on my laziness or lack of perfect memory. I wrote the last two lines of this piece in my log book... had to make up the rest of it to fit. Oh well. I wanted to have a line about crunchy snow but then I started thinking and I don't really remember crunchy snow. I think that phrase was fresh in my mind because C.S. Lewis used that term in Lion, Witch, Wardrobe. I dunno. I have some experience with snow though. Yesterday was a wet, melting, dirty day. I wish it would get colder. Cold = Clean. Peace out.

Mouse

Mouse

The classic peripheral device
track ball or laser
two buttons and a scroll wheel
tethered to the computer
irreplaceable
try as they may

That was really lame but I'm trying something different. I was told that my style is similar to the Poet William Carlos Williams. I read one of his "most famous" poems a while back. It was titled Red Wheelbarrow or something like that. I don't know how to write about wheelbarrows so I decided to write about something I know. I took out a book at the library this morning of some of his selected works. I'll get back to my typical emotional stuff tomorrow. No worries. Peace out.

Shifted

Shifted

Everything has shifted
as the tectonic plates of my life find a new home
the landscape is all different
I wander around lost
as I can't find any familiar landmarks
You used to be here
beside me
Now I don't know where you are
I just pray that you are safe
and that we will be reunited in time

Hmm... I really struggled with today's piece. I wanted to write this since Sunday but I wasn't sure what I wanted to write and I wanted to let my emotions settle a bit. In the end, I'm still not sure if I like what I did. I wanted to write about a heart break and a death that happened on the weekend. I feel like I've cheapened the death by talking about something as dumb as hurt feelings but I feel like the scenarios are actually very similar. Some one important in your life is no longer around. Maybe I'm grasping at straws. Peace out.

To Remember

To Remember

The efforts to remember
are causing your back muscles to twitch
There's an uneasiness building up
in the hollow of your chest
There's a red poppy
attached to your vest
with a pin and a desire to never forget

That was my ode to Remembrance Day. This morning, I read The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. I think that book is tops on my list for times read. I think the Magician's Nephew is probably a close second. When I was reading it this morning, I started thinking about a past Christmas. It was weird. I couldn't place what Christmas/event I was trying to remember. But it felt like the memory was on the tip of my tongue but instead of being on my tongue, I could feel it in my chest and it was just trying to jump out. I dunno. It was a weird sensation. I'm still not sure what I was trying to remember. Peace out.

To Forget

To Forget

Wash away my memories
of the failed bid
Help me find new hope
with a clean slate
I dream that with each new song
that I'm getting closer
to the heart of the matter
to cut through the chatter
and only hear the lyrics
of a failed bid for a kiss
that I try to forget

I made another youtube video today. It's a joke. I can't wait til she gets engaged though because I have the perfect song for such an occasion. It's totally awesome and I would have to play the actual guitar for that one cause it's just too good to do a joke cover of. Oh no, my youtube upload just crashed. :( Hmm... it looks like YouTube went down. Now I'm getting cold feet.

Well, today as I was taking a walk, my old school perfect memory kicked in and I was reminded of some events that went down 10 years ago this day. It also involved a walk and a rose, and it was the inspiration for my screen name.

Benched

Benched

It's time
to take off my skates
yet again
I've been benched
She didn't say a thing
just a click here and
a click there
and the universe is informed
My imagination played a trick on me
I don't seek sympathy
just a chance to play
the game that I love

Yup. Different tone today that's for sure. I just got some news the other day that is not of the happy variety. Actually, this piece is based on so much stuff that went on during the past 30 hours that I don't even know what to attribute it to. On a different note, I'm totally obsessed with this song "Geek Love" by Nerina Pallot. I've listened to it over 50 times in the past few days according to my iTunes counter. I tend to do that... pick a song and play it nonstop until I don't even notice that it's playing anymore. You would think that I would know the lyrics by now, but I don't. I guess in some ways, that's how it's like with my life too. There's nothing new under the sun. I suppose I should have known how things would turn out this time, but I didn't. Maybe I refuse to learn. Peace out.

Precipitation

Precipitation

I don't know what's the right thing to do
or if a right exists to be found
I turn over the rocks and stones on the ground
searching for gold in the form of wisdom

I took a break from my search
and put shovel to driveway
to clear all the snow and cobwebs away

I lost one night's worth of sleep
and I'm sure in the end it will be more
as I wait to see the results of my choice
as my action leads to reactions
and what might precipitate to affect the world
and it makes me wonder
why are things so complicated
when it comes to a boy and a girl

Drama king for the win. I shoveled snow yesterday and today. I haven't done much upper body work this past summer as I worked on becoming a better long distance runner. It was very evident. My shoulders were burning and now my lower back is slightly sore. The snow was exceptionally heavy... most of it was ice. I salted the walkway and I was wondering how the salt will affect the lawn come spring. It's crazy how long a decision you make today can continue to affect your life in the future. I find it hard to believe people can live without regrets. I know that wasn't a skill I picked up growing up. Peace out.

The House

The House

I'm building the house for two
Every choice I've made, I've considered you
Would you like the layout?
Did I leave you enough space?
I wish I could have seen your face
when I told you about my plans
I wish you were my girl and I your man
The foundation of the house is a similar taste in candy
and the identical need for resources
The walls are years of friendship that will protect us
from all the naysayers and people who want to take what we have
like robbers in the night
together we can fight
and do our victory dance
to a song found by a friend

Hahaha, this was the poem I wanted to write yesterday but I never got the chance because I was thinking about other stuff. This poem was inspired by something I said on Wednesday night during a game of settlers about building a house for two. Everything else is fictional so don't be worried. Lolz. Peace out.

Pop Him

Pop Him

I sit here and try to take it in stride
as he sits across from me on the other side
of the table, openly flirting with you
going over the top. I wish he knew when
to stop or that I might just be able to pop
him one in the face to see if he enjoys feeling
what I feel. With every one liner, I just feel
worse. I feel like a balloon that like a needle
his words burst me and I go shooting into the
corner of the room and there I retreat and
regather myself as the pain inside me consumes
every last ounce of strength in my being
My chest is getting heavy and I'm having trouble
breathing. He doesn't even want you... not like I do.
He's just honing his skills so that when he's had his fill
and perfected his game, he'll apply it to Jill, or Jane,
or Jessica whoever he's in love with. Why do you
allow him to continue to pretend to woo you. Can't you
see that I mean what he says and that I would promise
you the remaining of my days just so you'll give me
a chance to be more than friends. We could give it a shot
for a week, year or decade. Ok, I've decided. I will go
ahead and pop him. I clench my hand to a fist and hit
him square in the face.

Fun. I wonder what it would feel like to get punched in the face. I dunno... maybe if I keep up my antics, I'll find out. Hope not though. Peace out.

The King of Awkwardness

The King of Awkwardness

If you need a guide of what not to do
look no further. I wrote the thesis
as the current reigning king of awkwardness
forget her name
and stumble on words
if she looks around for an escape
don't be discouraged
ask what's her age
and tell her she looks tired
offer her some candy
she'll be sure to be delighted
just make sure it's still in the wrapper
if she turns away
make sure to tap her
so she can continue in this mess
she probably loves to indulge in your awkwardness

Lolz... That's a good one. I'm trying to be light today. I like the word "awkward". I like how the spelling itself is awkward. I dunno. It's supposed to rain today but it's holding off. I might be walking home in the rain tomorrow though so maybe that will be inspirational. My knees hurt from running yesterday. Woe is me. Peace out.

Missing

Missing

Maybe it's the silence over
breakfast. Or maybe it's
the lack of the high harmony
as I sing along with the morning
radio. Or maybe it's because I
have no one to say goodbye to
as I leave for the day. We are
both missing. You're not here
and I'm missing you...
tonnes

Hmm... I went for a run today. I haven't ran in 9 days because I was sick and I have to say that I missed running until I started running... and then I didn't miss it so much. During the run, I was thinking "what makes people miss things?". I was watching Survivor last week and they got letters from home and they were all bawling. I dunno. I'm not sure if I would be crying like that. I understand that 21 days is a long time without contact with family/friends but I dunno if I would be crying or how many people I would actually miss. But then again, I miss having pop after a few days of not. It's just so good. Some people you miss if you haven't heard from them in a day or two... and others you don't even realize that you haven't really spoken to them in years. Hopefully, the people you miss miss you too. Here's hoping that she misses me. Lolz... I don't know what that was. Peace out.

Summer Dream

Summer Dream

Last night I had a summer dream
our bellies pressed to the kitchen floor
crayons in hand as we draw
portraits of our family, stick figures and all
in a two dimensional house and the sun peaking in the corner
of the page. Yellow beams radiating
Ice cold pink lemonade used to coax
us from our art
urged to go play outside perhaps
hit the parks

Well, that one sucked, but it was different. Still trying new things from time to time. I need a poetry mentor. Desperately. Peace out.

The Seasons

The Seasons

It's the Japanese autumn:
the season of change. The leaves
turn magnificent hues of yellow, orange,
red. The seed pods off the maple trees
float gently to the ground. They are
getting ready for the warmth of spring.
The daffodils are in full bloom. The tulips
make way for the irises and lilies. Summer
rolls in: a time for weddings, a time for dancing
under the full moon on sweaty August
evenings. We save winter for last. Both
of us out of our primes, graying, decaying
and not regretting a thing. We both smile
and remember the yellow spring.

Yeah, today, as I was sitting in church and drawing my one millionth eye, it hit me. Lately, I've been obsessed with drawing eyes. Maybe it's because I don't think I should be drawing ears or noses all the time, although believe me, they could use the attention as well. But it's because I want to be able to draw the eye and every attempt so far has felt like... I dunno, like they have fallen short or something is missing. The proportions are not right or it lacks depth and emotion. I feel like maybe it appears that I'm obsessed about writing about this one thing, but it's because I don't think I've gotten it right yet. There's something missing in my retelling of the events or my description of the emotions. It's just not complete. I feel like a potter who keeps trying to build this pot, this magical pot. And I build one and it's no good so I smash it down and start over and try again, and again... until perhaps one day, it's right and it's real. It's just in my case, I end up publishing my failed attempts. Anyways, that's what I was thinking about today. Peace out.

Walk Home

Walk Home

Turn around
she said
and walk home
alone
maybe your ego can keep
you company along
the way
There will be no next time, an
opportunity to learn from
this disaster. For it's
over. The newness
is dampened by the
rain. You walk through the
puddles, focus turned
inwards. It's over and
your socks are wet

Hmm... I'm experimenting with a different style today. Maybe the tone is the same but I wanted to try something new. I have no idea what I'm doing so I don't know if this is actually a different style but I must say that it sure felt different for me. Did I screw up something good? Was there even something to screw up in the first place? Who knows. Peace out.