Friday, May 29, 2009

Some good old fashioned nerdiness







Space robots

Robots, robots, marching from space
Fists clenched, teeth grinding, no sense of grace
Original Nintendo, 1985
Neon jackets, MCMLXXXV, greeting with high fives
Sitting in basements with Nintendo Power stacked high
Feeling no sense of this space robot jive

Robo commander, grisly fierce voice
Hidden by electric music and automated gunfire
Marching in line, original, heat map, inverted, back again
We have no sense of time.



Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Mixed Up

Octopus trees of the desert and blood stars of the sea travel to us from National Geographic's 1991 Engagement Calendar, titled 'The Wonders of Nature'. In the process, things got a little mixed up as the sky and ocean got confused by their own metaphor inducing names. They landed in the present in somewhat of a different form, but it would seem that it is better that way, for now.


Watching freedom

Long windblown hair, dancing in the breeze
Sunlight reflecting from bright cheerful eyes
Leaning back, relaxed
Perched upon this smooth round rock
Gazing into the sparkling sea.

Fresh whipping wind, salty air
Hair tangled and loose
Sunkissed skin, bare rough feet
A child of the earth, embracing all around her
Not resisting anything in this place.

A place so beautiful and natural can only be perfect,
Meaning and wisdom echo through the setting sun
Removed from all possessions, all factors of life
Each person is perfect in their own way, I think they are beautiful.

When I see you enjoying the sun, I love you
When I see you loving the water, I enjoy you.
When I see you embracing the wind, watching the birds
I am one with you, at peace with someone I’ve never met.

I don’t want to know them further,
Anything more than this would tarnish what is perfect.
Leave your office, car, money
No one cares about that here.
In fact, we’d rather not know.
You will probably leave us and soon forget,
Return to the other and never see the connection,
Never realize the impact it all has,
But for as long as you can love what isn’t yours,
What can never be owned,
We can appreciate you for what we see here, now.
Nothing else matters.

Flickering hope

To be lit and extinguished so many times
Is cruel, teasing.
This dog needs to be given the treat, or to have it disappear completely.
The candle is soft, its wick bending into the wax, will soon be dried and useless.
To be reached again it will have to be dug out,
When mere care would have kept it afloat.

But hope, however bleak and unlikely
Is the only chance we have.
This charred and cold existence
Cannot sustain itself for long, but will slip further
Into dark fragmented pieces
Of a jaded future.

Never say it is too late, maybe it will be too late soon,
But right now, we cannot have passed the marker.
If we have, we are already dead,
But life exists all around, so don’t extinguish what chance we have.

No theory will save anyone, action is all that has meaning.
I don’t care what education and background is behind this rationale,
If no spirit or passion resides here, it is dead and blank to me.
Cruel and unwavering, it will not help anyone.

Voices shouting in the night, echoing in the day
Know what it is to feel,
To feel is the only way to care
To care is the only way to change.

Sunday, May 24, 2009

Suspended Dust Particles

Particles float in the air,
Land momentarily, only to be swept up again.
They don’t like to settle too long,
For then they are only dust, something in need of cleaning.

When airborne, they catch the sunlight,
Its magnificent beams shining through them
Make any room dreamy and reminiscent.
They casually drift from here to there, making conversation with the room
Schmoozing with the furniture and curtains
Quietly worshipping the sun, a translucent rainbow
Illuminating this warm beaming light that makes this house feel like home
Something to warm up to, that will warm you up,
And keep you warm for always, in its tender embrace.

I will always be waiting here for you, these specks of dust will never settle.
They will float on and catch the sunlight, always dreamily, never quite awake.
They are the suspended particles of my childhood, in the barn of my dreams
They return to me here now, in another land, still the same.

There is never any need to rush, no need to quickly fall to the ground.
It’s far more satisfying to simply float, barely moving, but swaying back and forth
While travelling, eventually, through the air. No destination is needed. Steady as always,
Lingering and drifting from here to there, tenderly loving the air they travel through.
Not wanting to rush through it, but savouring each and every inch.

Shining through the curtains on this bright new day,
Lost sentiment quietly slips back into the room,
I am simply happy for who I am and where I am now.
Not proud nor ashamed, just content and at peace.

Relatives of the past smile through the light,
I will always be here, you have always been here.
This place is our home, but it’s more of a feeling than a place.
It actually hasn’t been with me for long, but the same light beams through this window as the last,
And particles still dance in the sun, remembering everything, for all days to come.
There is no forgetting, no carelessness. To move this slowly means to remember everything,
To be considerate and thoughtful, to appreciate all that is here.

I will never forget the quiet warmth. To forget is to die, to lose all feeling.
To be able to feel so much from so little, is to be able to live.
To live with my thoughts is the best gift I have, though difficult as it is at times.
Just look to the beams of sunlight, they still look the same as they always have,
They haven’t lost their magic or their warmth.
My body loses its coldness, loosens its grip, remembers life.
Simplicity is the key to all experience, disembodiment reversed, body and mind reunited.

Soft sentimental smiles linger, no tears ever come,
but quiet thoughts replace themselves with content stillness.
I feel like I’m eight years old again, I feel like I could be eighty.
I guess I always have been, still am.
Haven’t grown up in any significant way, my mind hasn’t lost itself but has remained intact
in an expanding childhood of discovery.
I will always stay the same, as long as the sun stays with me.

Friday, May 22, 2009

50 Mile Road

After miles of travelling on the road, we settle down at an old diner.
Time to rest, finally. I suppose we could go further, but hunger is settling in.
Limbs aching from stillness, such stillness is only unnatural.
Seems we are in another world, but it’s not that different,
Not in any immense or measurable way, it’s just these small details.
All these beautiful little details, that frame this place in my mind.

I don’t have a clue where we are, ponder for a second
Trying to decide whether I want to know or not.
Seems I would have more appreciation for this place if I did,
But if it remains a mystery in my mind,
It is special for its essence, not what is actually is.
Real memory is formed by essence, feeling,
Not anything to be described in real words.

A waitress smiles, clean crisp blouse and apron neatly ironed
I wonder if she spent her whole life in this small town.
What a tiny place to grow up, if this is all you know
What would the world feel like to you?
She is as warm as the sweet summer air,
Manners impeccable, not because they should be
But because that’s just who she is.

Old and weathered, the wooden panelled walls have seen their time
Rusted signs and license plates, oxidized as a form of decay
Their life is over, but they’re still kept on display.
Yellowing newspaper, of times gone by
Mostly everyone would have forgotten,
But we’re still holding on, still see the importance in this.

Wheat fields blow under an endless blue sky,
Caressed lovingly by their playful neighbour, the wind.
Although they are rooted into the soil, always stuck in place,
They look content and free, no need to be anywhere else but here.


Monday, May 18, 2009

At the end of the day, things end, begin, start again

At the end of the day,
There is no room for sadness.
Keeping busy
Is just a distraction.

From self-worth to distraught
In a matter of hours
Reality is conceptualized
In a temporary manner.

No reason to trust,
No reason not to
My relationship with myself
Is in another realm completely.

Things quickly build up
Then quickly fall apart
Only to repeat again and again.
I think I am strong,
I’m better than that
But I’ll only have to pretend.

At the end of the day,
Is the only room there is for sadness.
And in the morning too.
But the morning always seems to feel
Like the end of the last day.
I’m waiting for it to feel new.

The day is kept busy,
It’s worthwhile, fresh.
It passes by quickly,
But its length is deceiving.
Flowing in and out of realms of thought
In many states of mind completely
Doesn’t seem like it all could be felt in a day,
Never sure which will last
Yet I most certainly do not want to know.

Saturday, May 16, 2009

Faerie Mischief

I found some fairies playing in my backyard this evening







Friday, May 15, 2009

Ephemeral consistency

Constant state of temporality
Transient human being
Rush of movement, flickering light
Hum of running machine.

Engine roaring, never stalling
Racing from A to B
A few weeks here, a few days there
Then never to be seen.

There is no sense in stocking up
The future does not exist
It’s not something to be seen or grasped
Yet it’s what we strive to reach.

Always waiting, pacing and humming
Thinking of what will come next
This virtual reality is second to none
Not sure if it even exists.

No time is wasted,
No sentiment is spilt
There is no slowing down.
Or maybe it’s all wasted,
Devoid of worth
Thoughts like these
aren’t worth the time.

Beeping steadily,
Light flashing in time
Surge of electricity
The fuse blows out
The robot is dead
Let’s not repair this machine.

Renovating Longevity




Taking Time



Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Blossoms

Pathway curving around this loop,
Thousands of people walk by everyday.
Usually they are all gone by early spring,
To return again in the fall.

All these trees gracing the walkways,
Standing in pairs across this paved path.
All in full bloom
Transforming the landscape
Into a wonderland of white.

Flowers fill the sky,
Enticing and enchanting this area
Which is usually passed by to catch a bus,
Get to wherever needs going to.

For extenuating reasons,
These thousands of people are still here
This year, for once.
So they all see these blossoms,
On these beautiful trees
That we always thought to be ordinary.

Usually they get dressed up and ready
Just to go unnoticed,
To be seen by nobody,
And once they shed their evening gowns,
Everyone comes back,
To see them plain and bare.

For once they are seen in their glory,
They catch every passers-by eye
So lonely for three months this year,
They are so glad to have everyone back,
Everyone back to see them at their best.

Of all the things we could complain about,
Of what has happened this year,
We can all be grateful for one thing.
We now get to see the trees in bloom,
Our campus transformed from concrete to green
This space looks beautiful to me,
Everyone so happy to be outside,
Studying, eating, playing, catching the bus
Walking to get here and there
Amongst seas of white queens.

Reading poem-tree

Time to read some poem-tree
Wonder what there is to be discovered here
If it’ll warp to a different place in time.
I know this man’s a genius
Not because anyone told me so,
But I’ve read him all before.
Let’s see what he has to say this time,
If it feels different than the last.

That ones over already,
There goes another one
I forgot to pay attention again
The next one, I’ll take in more detail.

Leave this world and look into another one
From this large, cloudy window
Framed with imagery and desire
Sometimes, when it becomes more clear
This window turns into a mirror
And that space is transformed to feel like mine.

It’s strange how I skim these over
If something captures me, I’ll slow down
I try to slow down
This isn’t just a book to blaze through,
If you’re going to bother at all, take your time.

Those that were written in a time and place that I know,
I read them over and over,
Slowly and slower each time
And their meaning slowly unfolds itself
Meaning something different with each repetition
Each time seeming so real
But with each new interpretation
Coming clearer and clearer

What if we were to read everything this way?
As something that is true to your life, trying to tell you something?

I don’t even know if this man is still alive,
As much as I want him to be,
It doesn’t really make a difference either way.
But even if he’s dead,
Maybe he’s writing to me,
All these years ago.
For me, right now,
To stumble upon and discover.

Tomato Picker

Labouring all day in the sun
These ‘sweatshops in the fields’
Span wide over this horizon,
These crops that never end.
Nothing much else grows around here,
Tomatoes, tomatoes, its all I see
Everywhere I look.
It all seems to be about control,
Of people, weeds,
Sometimes I’m not sure if they know the difference.
This has become my life, for now,
Till winter comes again.

Goodbye, sweet children,
Farewell, lovely wife,
Later this year we’ll meet again
But for now, my duty to you is calling.
Over boarders I must cross
In search for bread.

I don’t have much choice,
I can’t go anywhere else
This farm is all I know
So isolated from anything else
In this country I heard was so free.

I’m tied to this employer,
I can’t go find work some other place.
I’m not a real citizen, you see.
This mere fact limits me
In everyway and everything
That I could ever do.

I am only seasonal, temporary
So I don’t get to explore
I’m stuck here all day,
Sweating buckets
Little pay
Your country’s famous protections
Seem to have left me out.

Promised Land

This promised land
Doesn’t hold much promise to me
When bloodshed and tears
Seem to see no end in sight.

Of course my people want to be free,
But things aren’t the same now,
Do we really need to be so defensive?
I just want to go somewhere else.

The bible teaches us
Over and over again
That no one person is better than another
Then why are all these people,
Who are living on our land
Hated because they aren’t one of us?
We are all one people, after all.

I love to be part of this community
That stretches across the globe
But really, we don’t need to shut others out
Apartheid was never the way to go
To say ‘I belong here, and you do not’
Removes any possibility of equality
And turns us into a racist state
That is conceited entirely.

How can you even begin to think you care about this world,
About others,
When your very ideology
Is so rooted in hatred and racism
And differentiating between who is worthy.
The Muslims, Jews, Christians
We aren’t that different
Maybe you’d like to believe we are
But none of our religions,
Or any at all,
Would ever ask for something like this
No God would ever want this.

I was taught to hate you,
It is in my blood
But I think I never did
To me, you are just another soul
You could even be my friend.

Sunday, May 3, 2009

Hair

Messy, wild, unpredictable hair
Gorgeous and inspiring,
Not something you can aspire to
Or try to achieve,
But something that happens on its own.

You can’t wake up and say
‘this is how it will look today’
It has to decide itself.
Let’s go play with the wind, it says
Let the rain refresh me
Let the sun dry me out
Let me frizz up and out
Let me be myself

Why do you try to tame me,
Keep me out of your way,
Your straighteners and curlers only burn me,
Try to make me conform to your ways.
Just let me be what I already am,
I am beautiful in every way
Maybe I’m not like everyone else,
But that’s what is special,
That’s who I am.

The wind picks me up and tries to whisk me away,
You sigh and look annoyed
Pushing me back behind your trusty ear
You want me to do what I am told

But this is my playground,
This is where I roam,
So let me explore and be free,
I am only hair, you do realize,
And not everyone needs to like me.

Searching Winds

I think you’re beautiful,
Floating free,
Caring about everyone and everything
But not caring about the mundane and everyday
Your long, free flowing hair
Tidy enough but never tame
Worn out necklace
That absorbs your oils and becomes part of you.

You’re realistic, responsible,
But never limit your imagination,
Never limit yourself to what is commonly believed
To be responsibility or direction
Taking whichever path the delightful wind blows towards you
Jumping on each chance, these little chances,
Everyday that come your way.

The wind loves you,
You’re one of the few,
That say ‘sure, I’ll take a ride’
Let’s go right now.
This breeze doesn’t want to be disappointed,
But it always understands
When ‘not today, maybe tomorrow’
Is the common place to stand.

When tomorrow rolls around,
Things are still the same.
If we don’t leave them now,
We never will,
No one ever will.
The wind might give up,
Might go someplace else.

So be unrealistic,
Unreliable,
Let pleasure take you hostage,
Let chance stare you down in the eye and scream
“I dare you, I dare you to just do it”
Don’t try to prove anything to anyone,
Just do it anyway.
Because it’s what you want,
What you know is right,
The direction you want to head in.
It doesn’t have to be practical,
Or even achievable
You can be irrational
and still keep your head firmly in place.
Dive into the deep end,
It’s the only place to start
Realize your fears,
And don’t try to combat them
Unless it’s what you actually want.
Just don’t give into them,
They’ll weave their way around you and slowly choke you
Until they have you firmly under their grasp,
In their control.

No one should be controlled,
By anything or anyone
This brain is limited inside this body,
Ever expanding, always travelling
Soaring over skies of blue
And caverns of darkness,
Always looking for the light,
Trying to catch the next wave,
Jump into the breeze,
Ignite the next flame.

I stand on the edge of this mountain top,
Waiting silently and patiently
Reaching out my hands into the clear bright air,
Feeling if it is quite right,
And when an appealing breeze rolls by,
I jump off the edge and let it take me away
My shoes are waiting at the edge,
But I don’t care if I ever return to them
Let’s see where this takes me first.

Right vs. Good, Wrong vs. Evil

Soar, soar, I want to soar,
I bite at my cage,
Tug at my leash,
Wildly pace back and forth.
Clearly agitated,
I need to get out
Need to roam wild and free.

No need to lock me up,
I’ll cause no harm
Just let me be what I am meant to be.
Not everything in this world
Needs to be controlled
All we need is a little trust
No sirens or fear,
I know what I’ve done,
No need to tell me it was wrong.
I know it wasn’t, and that is the truth
But since no one will believe me,
I guess I’ll have to pay up
There are other options,
But are they worth the struggle?

You try to convince me that you know what is right,
But the way I see it,
Is there is no right or wrong,
Sure, there are morals, they don’t mean a thing
And ethics, they’re important no doubt,
But we don’t seem to see eye to eye,
So I’ll give you the benefit,
But continue my suspicion.

Anything that is good vs. evil
Usually leaves something out
Bad vs good, is usually a lie
I never got to hear your story,
How you got this way,
Can’t we just listen to what he has to say?

You don’t need to be protecting
Anyone from me
I won’t hurt them,
You’ve already done enough harm.
You’re trying to protect
Your traditional ways
This idea is so stuck in your head
But these morals you speak of,
Aren’t about ethics.
They’re shallow and dull,
A mere manifestation of your own anger
Allowing itself to lash out at others
I don’t know who you’re protecting yourself from,
But you sure as hell don’t have to protect me.

Don’t use my religion,
Don’t slander this name
You are just putting
Your own people to shame.

If it makes someone suffer,
It’s not worth a thing
If you say he is more worthy than they
You’re just swallowing your own regurgitated words
Biting your tongue again and again,
Don’t you know where to end?
When will this ever end?
This isn’t His word
Don’t damage it and slander it so
You’ve taken something holy
And hacked away at it with a dull rusty knife
It’s lost its shape and form
And those that are true to the roots
Don’t recognize it anymore.

I’m a fundamentalist
You wouldn’t recognize me if you tried
I just think all the other fundamentalists have got it wrong,
They’ve lost the way
I suppose I’m hacking away at it as much as they,
They might not recognize what I’m holding here.

I suppose all of us, each and every one
Are just different knives,
Some of us rusty, some of us sharp,
Some blunt and unassuming,
Others serrated and unforgiving,
All carving our own way through this
Some of us recklessly hack away
Others carefully saw
None of us are right
But I think some of us are wrong.

Saturday, May 2, 2009

Critical, Critical, no emotion just Critical

Before you experience the real thing,
We want you to study the criticism first.
This is what so-and-so the great has to say,
He must be right,
So don’t even bother thinking for yourself.
Don’t read the novel,
Read the critical analysis.
Let’s criticise everything!

Nothing is real,
Nothing has feelings,
It needs us to analyze it all to death.
Stop, stay right there
Let me give you the one over with a magnifying glass.
No, I must remove you,
Come to my laboratory,
Just shrink down so I can look you over in closer detail
My microscope isn’t hurting you, is it?
Is it making you feel less then human,
Less than real?

Look at these people,
Telling children what to think!
Let’s strive to understand something
By isolating it.
Yes, that makes perfect sense.
Or it always has, so why rethink things now?

What on earth are we thinking!

Memories anew

Looking back through this old file,
I haven’t reflected for awhile.
I can’t believe how many beautiful places I’ve seen
They all are so perfect,
So exquisite, I could never have thought them up to be quite so.

But I was there, in the presence of something so great,
Only God could have dreamed it up.
The greatest artist that ever was,
The greatest artist that will ever be.
All of humankind can only strive to create something as beautiful,
Meaningful, free of judgement or harm,
And there is no need to compete.

We can only imitate it,
Or dream up things that are different and strange,
But will never be true.
Let’s not take a chainsaw to this landscape
Whose artist carefully selected a palette of colours
For the rest of time to see.

They are all so different,
Yet the same in their innocent perfection
Innocent really being a false front,
They are more powerful then we could imagine
But so vulnerable at the same time.
I feel blessed to have been in their presence,
Not that I’m not part of them,
Because I am.

Despite all else that seems like its all that matters right now,
I know these places still exist,
I’ll see them again,
And I’ll see others like them.
Things I haven’t experienced yet,
And I can’t even dream what they’ll be like
Until I am there.
If I do dream, and I will,
I won’t be right, I never am.
But what I discover will always be new.

Loneliness is Suffering

Loneliness is deep,
Far reaching, cutting.
It sits in the hollows of your stomach
Pressing out with this constant pressure
That can’t quite be described as physical pain
But is uncomfortable none the less.

Consistently anxious
This won’t go away.
This isn’t who I am,
This isn’t who I want to be.
Hardly anything in my life is the same anymore,
And the things that are just add pressure, too.
Pressure, pressure, always pressing forward
I think I might explode soon.

You drop by for awhile,
I can’t wait to see you,
Thinking that somehow it would make everything seem okay.
I can’t even look at you,
Let alone speak
I do love you,
And I wish I could talk to you
But you would just think I’m weak
I don’t want you to worry,
I don’t want anyone to worry.

I thought I was through with feeling like this
I thought I had changed
The past couple years have been a glorious escape
But now I remember what it felt like
How it always felt
And I can’t believe I put up with it for so long.
I never realized it wasn’t normal
That people didn’t have to feel this way all the time
And just when I thought it was over for good
It came back full force
I can hardly stand it for another day
Let alone forever.

Right now it makes sense,
It’s understandable, I guess
So I’ll just have to wait patiently for it to dwindle.
It’s part of life, its real, its not some dream,
So I’ll have to deal with it straight on.
There still is some hope,
In every aspect here.
I should feel blessed,
And I do,
But I’m just struggling.

I am desperate and clinging,
I hope I don’t turn anyone away.
But I need you now more than ever
I need you now to stay.
I will be gone soon,
I’m aware of that.
But for now,
I just need something to hold on to
And your friendship offers an escaping bliss.
Or returning, actually,
You were with me when things were at their best.
Maybe I shouldn’t tell you how I’m feeling right now
Though you’re the only ones who I feel I can,
Maybe if you think everything is okay,
Then everything is actually okay
And my mental reality is just a lie.

There’s just so much to deal with right now,
So much to get over,
So much to get started and finished
All these deadlines, coughing in my ear,
Knowing I haven’t been feeling well,
But not caring at all.

I look in the mirror,
And for the first time in awhile,
Feel love for the person looking back at me.
Their gentle, hurt expression is caring and genuine.
I do care about them, I want them to be okay.
I want myself to be okay, soon.

Some things always stay the same

This place feels the same
As so many times before.
Only time has gone by,
And I haven’t been around for awhile.
The thick, mossy feel of the carpet
Surely deemed out of style,
But I love that you haven’t changed it.

Another place, a different time
It still feels the same too
The same bar of soap
The same container of liquid soap
Obviously not the same in all these years,
But you keep buying the same kind.
What is it about this orange liquid that keeps you coming back?
Do you always make that choice each time for a reason
Or simply out of habit?
The pale bar of soap
Has the same texture in my hands
Slightly gritty, it barely lathers
It’s dry when I pick it up,
I wonder if I should actually be using it for this?
Maybe it’s saved for washing your face.
I remember thinking this way before,
So long ago,
Something so mundane and unimportant
But I somehow find it comforting.

You point out the cabinets to me,
In the wall above the shower
I’ve never noticed them before!
They look so old and characterized
A small detail that I would surely love.
Later sitting on the toilet,
I notice how far up you have to look to see them,
So it makes sense that I never did.
Maybe from now on,
When using the toilet at someone’s house
We should move our head at all angles,
Or a different angle every time,
If you’ll be going there often.
You never know what you’ll notice!

Many sides, same story.

Nothing quite seems real any more
I’m desperate but so distant.
No one has really noticed though,
Or they’re just too afraid to say anything.
I’m grateful, actually
It almost makes me feel normal.

I can’t look at anyone in the same way.
This woman, sitting across the table
Sure, she’s a staff member
I don’t even know how much she cares about this.
It is her job, I know, maybe nothing more than that.
She is practical and sensible,
Willing to do what is needed
Not lazy, not passionate either
Not sure who or what she is.
But how does she feel right now?
Is she hiding something too?
Maybe she feels some pain and is pushing it aside
She must have at some point in her life
And now she is fine,
Or at least fine enough to function like this,
So I can get over this too.
Everyone has, and everyone will.
Everyone can.
I’m crazy to think I’m alone in this,
From now on I’ll have more sympathy for everyone.
I know how it feels.

Maybe they all can see right through me.
I hesitate to speak out,
I don’t want to give myself away.
Next time, I’ll be more useful.
Not that next time will be for awhile,
And I haven’t proved to be of much use yet.

It kinda seems silly,
These formalities,
But I guess it’s nice that someone is taking us seriously.

Seems I never know quite how to act,
Not that I care too much,
But I’ve lost the ability to judge a situation.
What type of thing would one be expected to do?
Is this even appropriate?
I’m not dressed for the occasion,
For any occasion.
But it’s not like it matters,
I like people who choose their own way.

This is my way, I guess
No, I know! I just don’t even think about it to notice what it is.
It’s often different,
But it’s always the same
It’s just one of the many sides that add up.

There’s one place where I can be anything,
And am everything true to myself.
Another where I don’t really care,
I just don’t like it there that much.
And another where I’m striving for more
But I’ve finally settled down and stopped trying.
I’m setting my own way, again.

Which of these spaces is really me,
This one, surely, yes.
This is what I love and chose,
It’s what I’ve always wanted to be, and have been,
And where I feel I belong.

What about this one,
I signed up for it too;
It’s not what I wanted,
But it isn’t so bad.
It’s slowly getting better.
But I feel like it’s something I left behind,
I don’t need it anymore
But I’ll just have to do it again.
Not that it’s that easy.
I don’t feel happy with myself here,
No one knows me, what I represent
But I guess I represent myself through what I say
So if I don’t feel like myself,
It’s entirely my own fault.

This other place,
I thought it was gone -
But I still needed it,
So I brought it back.
I’m so glad I did!
It was making things harder,
But it’s a big part of me
And now it’s making this better.
It was a quiet reminder
Of what I didn’t like before,
What I was trying to get away from.
But I couldn’t get away from this part of myself.
Why am I acting like this here?
I don’t quite understand it,
It’s as if it were the same place
Just a different location and time.
It’s getting better now,
Well it’s still the same
But I’m beginning to embrace it,
Not as part of the past,
But part of the present.
It’s clearly still who I am now.

Saving what I can

Microsoft Office asks:
Do you want to save the changes to heartache?
Do you want to save the changes to ------- ?
How about time, and time2?
Of course I do,
I wish it were that simple -
Just a click of the mouse,
And I could change the way things are.

But all I have is writing,
This keyboard listens to whatever I say,
It enables my fingers without emotion.
What if my fingers were to break?
I wouldn’t be able to pour all this out
As rapidly as it passes through my brain,
And settles down inside.

It’s hard enough to keep up now,
And I hate to say it,
But my thought processes
Are replacing themselves with poetry.
My feelings running through my head
Come out it short, sequenced lines.
Oh, that ones decent, I think
But I can’t write it all down
It’s chaining me,
I need to move on and focus on other things,
I can’t reflect everything I feel.
But although it seems I keep saying the same things over and again
There is never room for it all.
I need to do something else,
But this is all I know right now,
The only thing keeping me here
The only way I know how to deal.

I finally start to feel a bit better
But then I find myself writing again
Why am I doing this to myself?
I’m in a room full of hundreds of people
All studying, reading, typing
But I feel so alone
I want to be even more alone though
I want to disappear
Why am I still here?
This is just a guise to pass the time
But I have more I need to do
I should be doing it now
I guess I just hoped I would have more to entertain myself with first.

But I’m grateful for the good news I’ve been given
I really hope it ends out well
It’s given me hope at least,
And taken my mind off these things.
Someone I care about so much needs me right now
But I can’t be there, I wish I could
I just need to finish off things here first.

It’s so beautiful out,
It reminds me of you.
The sun, its warmth
The way it emanates happiness in a way nothing else could.
It’s also the only thing that helps me forget about you,
There’s no way to feel sad when the sky is beaming.
My bus was stopped by a parade, I’m not even joking
And the pride of people waving their flags
Filled me with a new joy.
I can’t even believe how many people are out today,
Covering every ounce of space.
It gives me hope, I guess
Reminds me of the way people enjoy simple things
There’s still lots of room left
In my life for that.

The people I saw today
Made me feel so much better
I didn’t hardly feel upset at all
Of course I was asked about ‘him’ twice
And as I elaborated on with how I felt
I thought I was going to lose it
But it was nice that someone cared
I can’t begin on how nice it is.
Your friendship embraces like a warm, comforting hug
It comes at a time when only coldness has been on my mind.
I guess I need you just as much as any other,
I’m so glad to be here while I can.