After the Winter

After the Winter

After the winter
I hope you send me a song
with notes of cherry blossoms
and accents of lavender
Tell me where I need to be
and I will go and meet you there

After the winter
with legs weakened by too much
sitting in snowed-in cabins
and too much waiting for the spring
I'll sing to you the lyrics of our song
and present to you my mother's ring

It's nowhere near spring at the moment. I don't really know what today's piece is about but I just wanted to write something and get it out of the way. Peace out.

Swing

Swing

Swing red and blue
as people gather with ballots
to vote for their person
of choice. To have a voice
of say. It will be decided today
if we shall eat or have homes
to live in or jobs to toil at.

I'm listening to a podcast about "swing states" at the moment. Being Canadian, I find the american political system very fascinating. (hmm... seems like I've been political lately) I think I really like the american 2 party system. In Canada, we have 3 or 4 parties and it seems so much more difficult to achieve a majority government that can actually get stuff done. I find it a little curious that the republicans are being blamed for sabotaging the stimulus bill. They have no power in the congress or the senate so how can they sabotage things? I dunno. Maybe we need to return to monarchs. Peace out.

The Lamp Post

The Lamp Post

Meet me at the lamp post
in the Narnian woods
Where Tumnus walks
on snowy evenings
And the White Stag roams
pursued by kings and queens
Meet me in my dreams
beyond the hill of today
as sleep melts the weariness
and father Christmas comes to play

I've been listening to a lot of Lost podcasts as of late and thought I'd write a narnia/lamp post themed piece. You know... just to change it up a bit. I need more Lost, and I need it now. Seriously.

My current obsession is Kakuro. It's kinda like sudoku but it's not. Actually, it's like a crossword but with numbers instead of letters. Sometimes it's referred to as cross sums. I tried to pick up a book of kakuro puzzles at the local bookstore from the bargain bin but it wasn't there so I just ordered it online... but then I had to find more stuff to buy so I could get free shipping. I think I got 6 books for 40 bucks. Not bad. Now I just have to wait for the stuff to get here. I hate the waiting part of buying things online. Sleep time. Peace out.

Spring Floods

Spring Floods

Moment of weakness
with eyes welling
tears about to roll
down my cheek.
I wish that I could
walk through walls
to escape this epic dream.

I've been up all night
tossing and counting
the sheep that leap
over my head.
The season swells
with new fallen snow
building up reserves for
spring floods.

Today's piece is another piece about nothing. I caught the first bit of the address to congress tonight. What a joke. I don't want to get political but applause and standing ovations seem to be on sale tonight. They come so easy. Peace out.

It's the...

It's the...

It's the awkwardness
a break in your routine
as you stand in a crowd
looking for a seat
at a table that isn't there

It's the dartiness
in your eyes
as they dance around the room
looking for a familiar face
who won't see you

It's the restlessness
in your legs
as they resist the urge
to turn and run
to run away from it all

It's the hopelessness
in your dreams
you grasps for straws
as everyone else drinks
your milkshake

I watched the Oscars tonight. I rather liked how they got previous winners to present to the supporting/lead awards. It was nice to see the previous "generation" of winners passing on the oscar to the "next generation". It makes it seem like one big happy family. As I watched the Oscars tonight, I realized that I haven't seen any movies this year. It's not like I normally have seen the movies nominated because they usually are more obscure and artsy. Anyways, in a way, this piece today is a tribute to the Oscars. Peace out.

Porcelain Face

Porcelain Face

Contaminated by fragments from a real dream
where I stood as window dressing, a statue
I can't take this anymore, I need to scream
but my porcelain face is locked in a smile
that entices passer-bys to come in and shop a while
where the store keepers hawk their wares
perfumes and concoctions that promise to overcome despair
and maps that guide you out of your internal darkness
that will help you be cool and overcome your awkwardness
trinkets and nick knacks that are sold as treasure
I can no longer smile... my mask feels the pressure
as I try to frown and get the people to turn back
my porcelain face begins to crack
It cracks and crumbles and falls to the floor
with my image destroyed, I'm useful no more
and I'm discarded.

Today's post was inspired by a note from someone on Facebook. The note was about the Wizard of Oz and the region with the dolls made of porcelain but I took a different spin on it. Oh well.

I think the reason that I haven't been writing much lately hasn't been because I don't have anything to write but more because as more people (that know me) read this blog, the more I get concerned that I'm portraying myself as being too emo. I don't know. I just think that when I write, I tend to be darker and write about such topics with such tones that make me seem darker than I am. That's just what comes naturally/easily to me when I write. I don't know what else I can write about, or what else can envoke an emotional response from the reader. What else can I write about that matters? I dunno. I can't write about red wheel barrows or the song of the lark. Not that those things aren't important, but because I don't know how to write about them in a way that they would matter.

I've been trying to develop my drawing skills for a while now. I've always been fascinated by how an artist can take a simple pencil/paper and then use their skills to capture light and shadow in a way to create beauty. I even wrote about it really early on when I talked about a girl drawing with charcoal. What I want to draw is portraits. I really have no interest in doing still art or landscapes. I don't care if I ever am able to draw a believeable horse. I just want to be able to draw portraits... and I guess that's how I feel about my writing. I just enjoy writing darker, emotional pieces. Peace out.

It's the Culture

It's the Culture

It's the culture of losing
unaware of the continuous bruising
settling for less
thinking that you're giving your best
content to be on the bottom with the rest
of the losers

The "culture of losing" has always been an interesting sports term to me. I'm not sure if it's only a sports term but that's where I always hear it. It concerns bad teams and how they get comfortable with losing. I find it weird that professional athletes can get sucked into that mentality. How do they not hate losing? I can't stand losing. I will go over ever aspect of the game in my mind and think if I should have done something differently. Maybe it has to do with how I think everybody settles. But that's for another day. Peace out.

Blush

Blush

rush of blood
to my cheeks
blush with shyness
palms sweaty

Being lazy today. I heard a podcast today about blushing and how humans would be in a lot of trouble if we didn't flirt with each other because without flirting, we'd either have sex with no one or we'd have sex with everyone. I'm not sure I completely followed the logic because I was shoveling snow as I listened. I think it had to do with how flirting helps us know if we would be good together. My sister says I need to practice my flirty "hi", but I don't think so. I'm good, thanks. Peace out.

Winter Session

Winter Session

The middle of the winter session
my fingers robotic
as they play a song
that lost all its meaning
having become all too familiar

It's a season for a new song
born out of the freshly fallen snow
like the first leaves of tulips
emerging from the ground
to search for the sun

The winter lingers but its defeat
has already been determined
even before the first sight of snow
the new song will last for a while
but it too will be replaced tomorrow

Yeah, yeah. I know I know. I haven't written in what seems to be ages. I've missed it but haven't had the motivation to sit down and write when the inspiration hits me and then the ideas, fleeting as there, are no where to be found when I'm sitting in front of a computer. I tried to restart my journal a la pen but my hands are so not used to writing that it just seems that my hand writing speed is holding me back and my penmanship grosses me out. Oh well. Peace out.

Wake Up

Wake Up

Aren't you tired
of walking in circles
with our wheels spinning
getting nowhere?

You pretend you aren't looking at me
and I pretend that I haven't noticed
Our hands touch
our lips meet
and we're running out of time
for I'm about to wake up.

I'm currently reading The Name of the Wind by Rothfuss and I'm loving it so much. It's weird. For some reason I'm treating this book differently. I'm scared to read it because I want to save it. I don't want to lose the anticipation, the excitement of having something that I love waiting for me to read. I want to read it but I don't. I want to take my time with it but I know that eventually, I'll just power through it to appease my hunger for furthering the storyline.

Oh, the poem today was about a dream I had last night. I've been out of sorts all day. Peace out.

wave

wave

wave after wave
you've taken me by storm
as I collide with my future
by visiting the past
naked in the meadow
with no where to hide
cold and alone
I sit by your side
I prod you for secrets
and to give me my first kiss
you tell me to be patient
all the surprises you don't want me to miss

I read The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger today. It was nice to read something with a really tangible storyline. The structure of the story really reminded me of the current season of Lost which made me love it even more. Of course today's piece is based on the book. At times, I felt very awkward with a 40 something Henry visiting a teenage Clare. I'm still now sure how I fell about certain events in the book but it makes me wonder how my life would be different if a future self came to visit me. Maybe I would be able to observe him and guess how my life ends up. Peace out.

Beast

Beast

It's growing
inside
drawing from my blood
reshaping my bones
new armour appears
to protect my back
the beast longs to be released
and he's taking no prisoners

I wanted to write something today before heading out. I had planned to do some reading this morning and draw some inspiration from that but I slept it. So today's piece is based on last night's episode of Fringe. I'm heading to the library in a bit to replenish my book supply. I've decided to stay away from the classics today but I might be tempted to sign 1 or 2 out. Bought The Fray's sophomore offering today on iTunes. I like it. Peace out.

On the Road

On the Road

On the road
on a greyhound bus
heading west towards the mountains
There you were
a mysterious brunette stranger
I imagined your story
about perhaps how
you were visiting your grandparents
and then you were gone

I read On the Road by Jack Kerouac today. I like his name a lot more than I liked the book. I don't understand why books in which nothing happens are so popular. 300 pages and nothing happened. Oh well. I'm gonna take a break from these classics and read some historical fantasy. Anyways, the book reminded me of my first trip out west taking a greyhound bus. There was this cute brunette girl sitting behind me and my sister. I couldn't guess how old she was because it's fairly hard to do that these days with any accuracy. We actually spoke to her briefly. I don't remember a word of it now but I know at the time, it was a big deal to me and not as big a deal for my sister. Maybe if I ever get stranded on the "Lost" island, I might run into her again and find out that she and I are intricately connected. She got off at Medicine Hat (now that I think about it more, I think she got off in Abbotsford or something in BC) and I don't even think I could pick her out of a line up. Peace out.

What's the Rush

What's the Rush

Time keeps ticking
and dripping like the leaky faucet
that like a metronome
makes me aware
of the intervals of time
that keep coming and going

Maybe you should know
I washed the cup
that you left by the sink
and I finally picked up the towel
that you left on the floor
It doesn't matter cause you're gone
What's the rush

That was weak but w/e, it's something. I was inspired by the idea today by the final scene of House. Oh well. Peace out.

Restore

Restore

Restore my memories to me
as I remember them on snowy January mornings
Cold to the touch and warm inside with hot chocolate
From the fog of time I still recall that moment
our hands were in the marshmallow bag
when they accidentally touched
except for that it wasn't an accident

On Friday, I was watching 20/20 about the art of seduction and junk and they mentioned this quiz you can take on Chemistry.com to see what type of person you are out of 4 types. When I was watching the episode, I was guessing that I would be a "negotiator" but after taking the test last night, I found out that I am a "builder" primarily and a "negotiator" as a secondary trait. Hmmm... I think my belief in following rules and being punctual tipped the scales.

That marshmallow thing never happened but I vaguely remember feigning accidental hand grazes... or maybe those too are just dreams that confuse my waking hours. Peace out.