Monday, October 21, 2013

Light Goodbyes

One month into fall
I let her go
My summer flower
Showers have turned into light snows
And I know it's futile to fight it
I winterize and make myself air-tight
Yesterday was a rough night
Fevered dreams, burning
Yearning for resolution
The comfort of clarity
I clutch my pen too tightly
I walked away and said goodbye too lightly

I wrote this on the train this morning on my phone.  I know.  I'm wonderful.  It's amazing how many things can get done when I have something I actually need to do.  I wrote the NPPE today.  I had such a productive weekend and still managed to go over 900 pages of information (hardly any of it was on the exam by the way).

I'm thinking about taking part in Nanawrimo this year.  I've heard about it for so many years now.  I always dream of writing the great american novel.  My fear is that I'll end up writing about things I know... my life.  I fear that I'll be like Dawson rehashing his high school years with Joey in everything he makes.  I fear I'll be Jesse writing about that one night in Vienna that he shared with Celine.  I fear and fear.  Peace out.

Sunday, September 22, 2013

Ransom

Love
I fall in too quickly
and crawl out slowly
Limping through life
Too short to reach my dreams
I scheme and bargain
Trading hopes for expectations
frustration holds me hostage
ransoming my youth

Just some ideas I had that I wanted to write down.  Peace out.

Sunday, September 15, 2013

This Again

Loving you was a test I studied for
dog-eared chapter four
listened to paramour
Put my hours in everyday
memorized the lyrics
knew all the words to say
Prepared my heart
and fixed my past
vacuumed the floors and cleaned the glass
I'm ready ready for my chance

This again.  I know.  Sigh.  Peace out.


Friday, September 13, 2013

9 THEs

I miss her and the missing
Oops.  I meant the kissing
The imagining 
The what-if hypothetical situations
The winning and the losing
The bruising
The night before the last time I saw her
The burning desire
The fire
The river of feelings
The remaining days of the season

I'm not sure to be honest.  Writing while consuming netflix does not make for coherent thoughts.  Peace out.




Monday, September 9, 2013

The Jar

The optimist says it's the light at the end of the tunnel
The pessimist - the goal that can never be reached
We seek for hope to find
We die in ditches waiting for relief
I jumped hoping to reach the stars
Only to fall short again
Hope - remains trapped in the jar

The reference I'm making in this piece is rather obscure so I'll spell it out more clearly as a favour to my future self.  I just started listening to an Audible book today that is a series of lectures on Classical Mythology.  One topic covered today was Pandora and her jar (not box).  The jar contained all the evils of humanity and when she opened it, they were released to the world... but only hope remains in the jar.  The professor asked what that symbolized.  Is hope good or evil?  I say it depends.  Peace out.

Sunday, September 8, 2013

Bones

Can't we just bury it?
This bone of contention 
keeps coming back
Always finding its place in the top three
on our whiteboard as we keep score
Who hurt the other more
That thing you said two years ago that haunts me
Still making me doubt my worth as a man
Questioning if I can see you with new eyes
Ignoring all the other guys that once found themselves
here
I fear this
I miss the easy days
Before all this decay set in
When our smiles were perfect
and had nothing to hide

I find it so hard to not be keeping score in my relationships.  I wonder if that's because I always think I'm on the winning side.  Maybe people who don't have a tendency to keep score are the ones who are on the losing side.  Does being the bigger person count if you keep it away as ammunition for a fight later?  I have an early meeting tomorrow.  Peace out.

Saturday, September 7, 2013

Streams

I keep falling
colours and promises
into the same thought patterns
mountains and valleys
about the things I've lost
rivers and streams
things I used to boast about
milk and cookies
I weigh more today
pancakes and syrup
but I'm so much less

My mind has been juggling a lot lately.  At work, I'm juggling so many projects.  My underlings think they are juggling a lot and I tell them I'm juggling 3x what they are.  I stopped weighing myself everyday at the gym.  It got to a point where I was obsessed with the numbers and it didn't really matter all that much because they would fluctuate.  I thought going to body measurements would cure me of my obsession.  Today I discovered that my left thigh is bigger than my right thigh... even though my measurements 2 and 3 weeks ago indicated that my right thigh was bigger.

I'm rambling now.  What makes a person more or less?  I dunno.  Am I only worth as much as I value myself?  Or is my self worth the sum of the worth people have placed upon me?  Or is a person only as good as his word?  Do words have value?  And how expensive are apologies?  Peace out.

Wednesday, September 4, 2013

Different Ghosts

I'm still the same person
but with different ghosts
Rehashing steps and
Regretting more than before
I reread the history of my choices
and remembered how I ended up here
I fear tomorrow
as my legs grow stiff
refusing to move on

There aren't a lot of things I can do while on a plane while waiting for take off.  Most of my means of passing time involve electronics.  Even my reading is done on my kobo these days.  The only non-electronic book I had on me was a book about how to improve penmanship and I had already spent 30 odd minutes looking at it at the gate.  I had packed my journal.  I had planned to write in it while on vacation but I never got around to it... for some reason, I thought it was a good idea to read some of it on the plane yesterday.  Reading my journal is very different from reading this blog.  Things are more real because they are less disguised.  That's probably why I find it so much easier to write here.  I don't have to be honest with myself.

I checked ticket prices for flying back in November.  I can do it for $360.  But then I'll probably come back during Christmas too.  Not sure how wise it is if I spent ~$2000 flying home 4 times (July, September, November, and December).  I'm also studying for the engineering ethics exam.  It's one of the steps to getting my P.Eng which comes with a raise.  If I assume (idiotically) that means a $20,000 raise after taxes and I assume that it costs $500 for flight and associated costs, I can come home 40 times next year.  Of course, that's just an example of some of the crazy math I did in my journal when I was thinking that I might have had a shot at a job in Wpg 3 years ago.  Peace out.

Tuesday, September 3, 2013

Sidewalks

I put a little more distance between me and reality
with every footfall on the paved sidewalks
Things will be different on the other side of this road
this driveway
this boulevard
When nothing changes, I shrug my shoulders and carry on
believing the lie that things will be different on the other side
My knees grow weak
and my heart breaks
How do I say good bye?

I've been having quite an emotional time of things lately.  Had a strange/non-traditional break up last week that's left me a lot sadder than I original thought it would.  I also was able to go home for the long weekend.  Leaving today was quite hard.  Adults don't change much after 4 months but I know that I'm gonna miss so much of my niece's development if I only see her in 4 month intervals.  I'll try to write more tomorrow but I've gotta get to bed.  Have a pretty stressful work day tomorrow.  Peace out.


Thursday, August 29, 2013

The Wanderer

I traded secrets for wheat
baubles and shiny things
Meanings trapped in word machines
The sheen from off the surface
preventing deeper gazes
I become the wanderer 
looking for my place
The race is on
I traded thoughts for a song
and the love of a red-haired maiden

I'm heading home tonight.  Whenever I go on "vacation", I always think that I'll have time to get all this stuff done.  I'll catch up on some work, I'll read all these books, play a bunch of guitar, watch a bunch of netflix, get my exercise in, sleep in, go out... It's pretty unrealistic.  Especially if I'm only going to be on vacation for 4 and a half days.  One thing I want to do is read as much of the Prydain series as possible.  The books are short and meant for kids... and Eilonwy.  Peace out.

Wednesday, August 28, 2013

merry go round

I took a turn on the merry go round
up and down
on fair horses caked in decades of paint
I took off my shoes 
to jump in the lake
letting the cold wetness wash over my body
I faint and wake upon a beach
and wonder how this ball ended up in my lap

Today's piece was a real stretch.  I really just wanted to talk about how most great things in people's lives really just ended up in their lap. In a few years, I might be running running my team at work.  I didn't really work for it.  It just sorta ended up in my lap.  My workplace assigned mentor is doing well.  I found out a couple months ago that he went to highschool with the son of our CEO.  Most married people had their spouses delivered to them in nice baskets left on their door steps.

I find it a little annoying when people who had things just land in their lap give advice to people about how to have a life full of the same great things like theirs.  People who worked hard to get the things in their lives are too busy working hard to take the time to give unsolicited advice.  Peace out.

Sunday, August 25, 2013

The Thief

She said to strike a pose
and with a flash she stole my soul
captured on silver halide crystals
At least that's what I would have thought
if I lived in the noughts of the last century
But instead, she held captive a moment of time
the shirt I was wearing and the cut of my hair
bags under my eyes and a crack of a smile
From time to time she would look at it for a while
trying to figure out my thoughts and dreams
but it would seem that I still own my secrets
moving targets 
impossible to capture on film
the thief sits there in disbelief
as I move on to the next frame

This was a piece that I've been threatening to write for a while now.  It was an idea that I stole from someone else.  I don't actually remember the exact idea, but this was the idea that popped into my mind when she mentioned her idea.  Something about photography and crime.  Hahaha, when I write that out, I don't believe that was the idea at all.

It's funny how memories aren't something concrete, etched in stone.  Memories are a little more fluid.  And photographs are only a cheap imitation of reality.  They can only capture the light bouncing off objects, but they can't capture the intangibles, the emotions, the feelings.  Peace out.


Saturday, August 24, 2013

Free Time

I found myself with two hours of precious free time
and knew I didn't want to waste them
so I sat and thought of all the things I could do
As a favour to my eyes, I could take a nap
As a favour to my heart, I could go for a run
As a favour to my mind, I could do yoga
to my brain, I could sink deep into the couch and watch tv
to my fingers, I could dance them across the fret board
to my future self, I could work on my penmanship
Time slips and slips

I dunno.  I was having a philosophical conversation yesterday about how there is a hierarchy of acceptable things to do during your free time.  Watching tv shows (especially soaps) are deemed a waste of time.  A nap is acceptable based on the audience.  Why is reading a book better than watching tv?  Is playing a video game with a friend slightly better than playing a video game by yourself?  Is playing video games with your kids better than going for a walk?  How about a walk vs doing chores around the house?  How about sprawling out on the floor, staring at the ceiling and actively listening to your favourite album?  Why is there value writing in your journal about the past when you can be doing something in the present?  At the end of the day, I say I dunno.  Do whatever you want.  Peace out.

Friday, August 23, 2013

Ducks

I did my push ups and learned to throw a ball
swallowed my pride even when it was hard to
and said my prayers at night
I read all the great books so we'd have stuff to talk about
and even dabbled in music until I developed callouses
I tried my hand at art
may it be graphite or prose
Trying to get all my ducks in a row
I worked my whole life 
for love at first sight

I was listening to a Blue Jays baseball podcast this morning (in case she's a blue jays fan) and the host said something along the lines of "worked their whole life to be an over night success".  It reminded me of my poem about investing in things and how it takes so much time to be develop the skills to a point where you are great at anything.  Of course, knowing me, I twisted it into working hard to be loveable at first sight... even though, in all honesty, I think I'm more of an acquired taste.  Peace out.

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

The Tapper

A life trapped in words
discouraged
I hold onto the escalator rail
head reeling
denying the feeling in the pit of my stomach
as if it was an annoying neighbour
that would leave after a few knocks if you were quiet
I sigh and rattle the rail in dots and dashes
to the girl with the lashes and red framed glasses
"I'm new to the city and I think you're pretty"

I was in a meeting with this girl for the first time last week.  I felt like she was really playing it up to try to impress this other guy at the meeting that I knew she didn't know.  My coworker looked at me and she gave me this like sly smile cause I think she thought I was checking her out.  In reality, I was just zoned out cause I was thinking about all the work I had to do from a previous meeting.  I knew I didn't have any interest in her because when I was thinking about it later, I realized I didn't check to see if she had a ring... anyways, I just thought of her because I thought she had really weird clumpy lashes.

Anyways, again... I had this random thought today as I was going up the escalator at the Ctrain stop.  When I went to grab the escalator rail, it moved a little and I thought, "I wonder if I could communicate via morse code by shaking this rail in a controlled manner?"  Super random, I know.  I wonder what message I would communicate. I wish I had paid more attention when I was getting my ham radio license.  Look me up people.  My call sign is VE4DGT.  Peace out.

Sunday, August 11, 2013

Change

What am I doing here?
Repeating the same mistakes
Crispy chicken skins
Red, bloody steaks
I've danced this dance
This isn't strange
Here's my chance
To invoke real change

I've been listening to this health podcast lately and I'm in this fitness kick right now.  But I keep making the same mistakes.  I keep going for the wrong girl.  Wait?  I see what you did there.  Peace out.

Sunday, July 7, 2013

Smooth

In the end she didn't wait for me
I'm not sure why I thought she would
maybe if I was good enough
was taller and said the right stuff
It might have made a difference
I question my moves and go over the replays
noticing the silence and the mental delays
as my mouth searches for words that my mind is already thinking
drinking in the pauses 
I'm nauseated 
I should have listened to myself when I debated
I chose the wrong move
I hear a voice in my mind say "smooth..."

Haven't written in a while.  She didn't wait.  They never do... Here's another piece to you.  Peace out.



Sunday, June 16, 2013

Secret Thought

I cracked open a book to write down a secret thought
but I was not alone enough
Found a quiet corner in the basement
but still I needed more privacy
I turned off the lights and sat in the dark
Mentally whispering it to myself
but I stopped mid-sentence
unsure if I wanted to know what I was going to say
I didn't have enough courage yesterday

I think it's interesting that our body/brain knows things that we don't.  Like when we have an infection, our body is busy fighting it off and we don't really know what's going on.  I wanted to investigate the idea of secrets that we keep from ourselves.  I have secrets that I'm too scared to write down in my journal because I think that makes things final or something.  Sometimes things are final way before we are ready to admit it to ourselves.  I share a lot of personal thoughts on this blog.  Hopefully I've encrypted them enough so that I won't regret my "openness" in the future.  Peace out.

Saturday, June 15, 2013

The Band

I cut the chord



and let the silence fill the room
I raise my arm and count down from four
three
two
the drummer hits the crash
and we're into the thick of it again
rhythm riding through the crowd
with the tapping of toes and clapping of hands
I turn around and acknowledge the band

Haven't played in front of people for ages.  I kinda miss it... even though this piece is not how my sets are like.  Haha.  Peace out.

Thursday, June 13, 2013

Wrong Again

I won't quote the famous phrase that contains "absence" and "fonder"
I wander and wonder
Did your mother forbid you to talk to me
Or is that just a lie I choose to believe?
Maybe your friends warned that I was trouble
Your feelings expanding like the skin of a bubble
Growing too fast and inevitably bursting
I, on the other hand, hide in the corner of my mind
Next to the few remaining lines of memorized Teddy Ruxpin songs
And my silly crush on Sailor Mars
I carried an umbrella today expecting rain
That never came
Wrong again

I like a lot of ideas that I threw in this piece but I'm not entirely in love with it as a whole.  Hide yo wives. Hide yo daughters.  Seriously.  Peace out.



Friday, June 7, 2013

Head Banger

I banged my head and thought of you
trying to remember something new

Short and sweet today.  I was thinking of memory again today.  Numerous scientific studies have shown that our memories are not that great at remembering details.  Just consider how many times people are misidentified in police lineups.  Memories are just chemicals stored in our brains and the way our neurons are connected.  What if you could cause brain damage and remember more fondly?  I dunno.  Peace out.

Sunday, May 26, 2013

cloud escort

cloud escort
raining on me with every step
large sparse droplets
wetting my hair and darkening my jeans
what does this all mean?
there's no double rainbows
or yellow umbrellas
just grey skies
a boy
and a song is his heart

This cloud totally followed me as I walked to church last night.  I like walking in the rain BUT only walking home in the rain.  Walking to somewhere in the rain just means you get to be wet when everyone else is probably dry because they took their dinosaur-powered boxes... haha.

I wanted to write about rain because I wanted to share two thoughts I had about rain as it has been raining here quite a bit lately.  I would bet that more umbrellas are thrown away when it's raining then when it's sunny.  That's quite contrary to what I know about supply and demand but I guess umbrellas only break when it's raining.  My second thought is that whenever it rains, I always wish I'd spent more money on my umbrella.  With even a slight breeze, I feel my umbrella doubt its desire to remain umbrella shaped.  Where does one buy a confident umbrella?  Peace out.

Tuesday, May 21, 2013

Twin Primes

We belong together
There are no factors
Alone in a sea of products
We are twin primes
Unique but not all that special
I'm not trying to be adversarial
You couldn't picture us visually
Our population is infinity

I wanted to write something super lame today.  Yesterday I came across a story about how this dude, Yitang Zhang, mathematically proved that for N < 70 million, there are an infinite number of paired primes that differ by N.  Twin primes are primes that differ by 2. e.g., 3 and 5, 11 and 13.  Although there are supposedly an infinite number of twin primes, the distance between these twin primes gets larger and larger until they can barely see each other.  It's an interesting concept.  It sorta reminds me of the imagery used in C. S. Lewis' "The Great Divorce" and how people in hell just keep moving further and further apart from each other because they can't stand being close to other people... like I said, it "sorta" reminds me of that.  Peace out.

Monday, May 20, 2013

Investments

I drew a line
and took it back unsure of the angle
I threw a ball
and it came up short 
because my muscles lacked the memory
I tried to add
but was forced to subtract to make the bottom line look right
I practiced all these skills for a night
and it has yet to pay off

I'm currently listening to an audiobook about basic economics.  (Last week, I had someone search in google for "poems about conditional statement" and it lead the user to my poem "conditional statements"... haha.  Now I will have something for "poem about economics".)  Anyways, I think the author is in love with "market forces" but I am learning some cool things here and there as I listen to it while running or working out.

Something that stuck out to me so far was the idea of recouping initial investments.  When I was in Paris all those years ago and Montreal some years ago, I saw artists on the street that were drawing portraits for quite a lot of money.  I'm not sure why both cities I'm referencing are french, but whatever. I remember thinking, "wow, it would be nice to get paid $X dollars for such a short amount of work".  It only takes the artists a few minutes to do the drawing, but it took them years to develop the eyes and hands to be able to draw.  In the same way other professionals and athletes must invest in their skills before they can make the big dollar for what looks like easy/short work.

It begs the question: "what should I invest in?"  I dunno.  I think the world would be such a different place if everyone knew their answer to this personal question.  Peace out.

Monday, May 6, 2013

prince's island

hot sun
rolled up sleeves
ice cream melting on the sidewalk
went for a walk today
prince's island
runners of all varying degrees
pounding pavement
wearing out knees
buskers singing for change
but things always stay the same

Went with a co-worker for a walk today along the river.  It was the first real hot day in Calgary and people were out in force trying to enjoy it.  I should have changed into my runners.  My toes hurt from my dress shoes. :(  I don't ever really walk in them. Peace out.

Sunday, May 5, 2013

dangerous

don't trust the smart, beautiful blonde they said
she's dangerous
her hair a mess and finger nails painted black
i lacked the will to divert my eyes
i tried and i tried but failed
i couldn't capitalize on that split second of time
when my mind's alarmed sounded
i should have picked up my things
but instead
i looked for a ring on her finger

This was not what I intended to write about at all today.  When I was walking to church yesterday, I had this idea to write about forgetting things so that you learn them again from the start... without any bad habits that you may have picked up along the way.  Something about not trusting yourself and starting fresh again.  I think this piece was a result of watching too many Ed Sheeran videos today... like 3.

Lately, I've been thinking about going back to the basics.  Maybe even do some guitar drills daily or something.  That's the problem with being self taught: you pick up bad habits and no one's there to correct you.  I wish I could lose some of my bad guitar habits.  I've recently wanted to get back into drawing and start painting so I was watching some videos online for some drills that would help beginners.  Apparently, I have to hold my pencil differently.  Haha.  I wish myself luck holding a pencil differently.  I even bought a book a few months ago about how to improve your penmanship.  I've started noticing people writing "incorrectly" and judge them for it.  I want to explain to them that their penmanship is poor because the way they write their Bs is wrong.

People learn wrong things as they grow up.  They start believing things that people tell them about themselves that may or may not be true.  Wouldn't it be great if we could start all over?  With the wisdom we have with age?

BTW.  They usually have a ring.  Peace out.

Thursday, May 2, 2013

Linger

A girl smiled at me today I think
I might have accidentally given her a wink
To deflect her perplexed look
I held up a book
as if I was proud that I could read
or that reading books made me special

Why am I still thinking about her?
I guess some thoughts just like to linger

I love Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.  I started watching it on Netflix the night before I left for Troy.  I only got about 25 minutes in, but it was enough to see one of my favourite lines from the movie... which is easy because I think it comes super early in the movie.  "Why do I fall in love with every woman I see who shows me the least bit of attention?"  Was in my 2nd meeting with this girl at work today.  Found out that she went to the UofM.  Probably co-existed there for a few years.  I wonder if that's why she looked familiar to me.  Or maybe I'm just deflecting.  Peace out.

Tuesday, April 30, 2013

Tea Please

Table for two, I tell the hostess
She walks us to our table in the corner
So much glass
for better people watching
Your tea's too hot like usual

I sip mine with pinky in the air
and ask myself what am I doing here
Your mind is somewhere far away
longing for yesterday

When we still laughed and words came easy
and your hand would gravitate to mine as if they were soul magnets
Fingers intertwined
We'd sit there and pass the time
and people watched us instead
as I'd spread some butter over bread
They'd wonder about love's mystery
A boy
A girl 
and two cups of tea

Haha.  That was a fun piece to write.  On the train this morning, I was listening to a podcast where writers would write in (shocking I know), and ask relationship questions to the hosts.  One question this morning was concerning the first year of marriage and how they heard that it was the hardest year.  I wonder if it truly is the hardest year.  Of course, the hosts answered with the "it's different for every couple", but I wonder if it's not the best year.  And I wonder what happens when the best year ends and another begins.  And why do all the special teas smell so delicious and taste like regular tea?  Peace out.

Friday, April 26, 2013

Elizabethtown

The rain falls down
on Elizabethtown
The St. Lawrence River has her fill
Tulips and daffodils
Come one come all 
to Victoria Hall, Brockville

I dunno.  This is just really funny to me.  Peace out.

Monday, April 22, 2013

Suspend

Temporarily delete your past
soot, memory, ash
The freedom to start anew
tree, leaves, grass

No longer the person we once knew
free to do things that aren't you

Today's piece was inspired by someone deleting their facebook account.  My sister used to do that a lot too.

I like the idea of starting fresh.  I like starting new journals because I feel as though the act of writing in a new book means that the mistakes I've made in the past no longer have a hold on me.  I like the idea of not being held to things I've said or stances I've taken.

I remember when I was in France, I had a cousin who greeted all his female friends with a kiss on the cheek and all his male friends with handshakes.  I was 15 at the time, but I thought that was so cool... and I was sad that I couldn't do that with my friends.  You see, I had already set the precedent.  I historically didn't do that, and it would have been weird to start.  Peace out.

Monday, April 15, 2013

Again

I check drawers I never opened
And thoroughly search under the bed
I close my suitcase with a sense of dread
I fight to ignore the voice in my head
It tells me to check that drawer again
My will bends
And breaks
I give my head a shake
And go over the room once more

It's not about rereturning but it follows the theme of doing things again.  I'm traveling for work tomorrow.   Traveling brings out the OCD in me.  I always feel like I've forgotten to pack something.  And when I leave the hotel, I go over every inch at least twice.  But I promise I'm normal in real life... mostly.  Peace out.

Sunday, April 14, 2013

The Rereturning

I've been here before
I've scratched my name into the door
as if I was a person of importance
I rinse
and I repeat
I seek the beat with tested algorithms
We clap our hands
finding the rhythm 
My soul yearning
My fingers spurning
The rereturning

No, that is not a typo.  I'm such a creature of cycles.  I don't ever do anything new.  I just take turns doing different things that I've done in the past.  And when I get bored with the revisiting, I revisit something else.  I re-return.

I was looking for Scars on 45 in iTunes today and scrolled past S Club 7.  I miss them.  I re-returned.  I'm sure I've missed them before and had the same feeling of nostalgia when listening to their stuff... again.  It's funny cause the other night, I was thinking that I should listen to more music rather than listening to so many podcasts.  I cycle between the two and I guess right now I'm podcast heavy.  I immediately started getting overwhelmed by all the music I wanted to listen to.  I immediately thought of Kate Walsh, William Fitzsimmons, Scars on 45, The Fray, Lady Antebellum.. and I just thought about Peter Bradley Adams.

With that list, I was surprised to find myself playing a bunch of P!nk songs on guitar today that I don't think I've ever heard P!nk sing.  I've only heard the covers.  And now I'm rambling, so I'm done.  Peace out.