His place

I just wanted him to leave.

Why couldn’t I have her to myself?

My greedy mind played over my request

I never knew what I couldn’t invest…

Murder was the name of the game

And, oh, how I would perform it so sweet

It was in those meals, he loved to eat

Where I would stash a special treat

And unto his lips there came a crime

And when he smiled, I knew, it was almost time

For him to die, and her to mourn

And maybe, into my arms return.

We said goodbye, at the funeral, to him

Yet, I couldn’t be happy…another would take his place.

And our love would never be finite…I’d never own her embrace.

Why Not Wednesday?

It’s Wednesday.

I’ve had writer’s block for the past few days, and, frankly, I’m at a loss for words for what is going on in the world right now.

I have been following Anonymous on Twitter and tumblr, and I love them.

I completely believe in what they’re doing.  Where some people may see it as an act of terrorism against the government, I see it as an act of courage, of freedom.  They are standing up for what millions of people deserve and want – and, ironically, they don’t even know how much of their freedom is being stripped away from them day to day.

I just wish people would open up their eyes, and maybe be a bit more aware of what’s going on in the world.

 

Wednesday’s word is: awareness.

Quotes on Awareness:

“To Think and be fully alive are the same.” – Hannah Arendt

“But of course there are all different kinds of freedom, and the kind that is most precious you will not hear much talked about in the great outside world of winning and achieving and displaying. The really important kind of freedom involves attention, and awareness, and discipline, and effort, and being able truly to care about other people and to sacrifice for them, over and over, in myriad petty little unsexy ways, every day. “ – David Foster Wallace

Quotes by Anonymous (writers):

“Concern should drive us into action and not into depression.”

“Be alert to give service. What counts a great deal in life is what we do for others.”

Awareness quote to think about:

“We are to awaken from the illusion of our separateness.” – Thich Nhat Hanh

 

Thank you to Anonymous for being the interesting highlight of my week.  Keep on hacking.  I expect it.

 

Words Overheard

The woman behind me blows her nose tearfully, quietly.
She’s married, with a few children.  One in university, one in grade 11.
They’re good students. They have a future.  They’re girls.
They’ll know hardships, but she’s hopeful for them.
She’s just listened to the same conversation I have.

Snippets of overheard conspiracy drift our way as
A man convinces a woman – his lover? –
To leave her husband.
She has kids.  She has worries.
He dismisses them with a wave of his hand.
In a conversation with this man, her replies – quiet and unheard –
Mean nothing anyway.  Because he sees only one side.
And his words, harsh and critical fall over our ears.
And the married woman behind me snuffles, imagining such a thing in her own life,
And I listen, curious as to how this plays out,
Outraged at his dismissive attitude to her fears,
Worried for her future, and wondering
How many times this same conversation has taken place.

His quick paced, accented tongue, flying over his words,
Licking his lips, sipping his coffee.
Starbucks, as the appropriate location for a private affair
And conspiracies in public.  Gentle laughter, free of tears,
Does not match the weighty content of his accusations and
Their conspiratorial conversing.
His words, floating and broken, over the ears of
The crowd, and through the pane of the glass looking onto
A car-filled parking lot:

He despised you as much as you despised him

Where does it come from? The movie stuff? It comes from real life.

People are together, they break up, and they get back together. It happens

Whatever. [mimicking voice]

Stops you from leaving your husband. You’re weak.

You don’t have everything you want.

You’re going to walk away from a house and home? No. you’re going to walk away from children? No.

You’re going to be broke? No. You’re still going to have your job.

You’re going to lose the one thing in your life that you don’t want. Your husband.

You spend 6, 12 months building a home for you, your children.

I had no interest in her. She was a foolish teacher.

Who was your first love?

What about me?

You’re not going to change and neither is he.

He might be this…but guess what? He is who he is.

You’re making a mistake now. You’re hurting.

Why am I here now? You tell me. You have all the answers. You just tell me.

I have lost you, so you obviously know better than me.

Okay, but let’s not talk childish now. I just contradicted you. But I will go out with us again.

You’re lying to me.

You don’t love him. Do you want to be with him?  Watch the Notebook.

Do you reckon he’s happy?  Do you think when you hug and kiss him, he honestly thinks: life is good.  You don’t have to break his ego.

Well you’re a fake.

Is this a game?

So just stay.

Does he act like a child? Does he act like a child? Of course he does, so very childish.

He’s demanding.

Careful what you wish for. What you mean.

Kitchen. A couple of weeks before Christmas.

‘Well you do that for everyone’. Go to Toyota now.

Lalalalalalalala

I’m sad for you and I wish….

You’re going to be on your own.

There was a kidnapping three years ago…

She was a liar, she lies now about it.

He hasn’t cheated on his wife…

If I was happily married, would it be okay if you were my wife, that I went over to this single mum all the time.

He’s going, no, no that’s not right.

No Christmas presents; wouldn’t put a penny on the table.

[I guess I should go.]

Me too.

It’s an exotic image. We flirt with what we can’t have.
We flirt with our dark desires, because how could we ever own them?
How could we commit? So we laugh at this play, this show of words.
In a serious conversation, are we laughing off the possibility,
or are we laughing off our fear of the unknown?

Shall you commit to ‘wrong’? Shall you leave everything you know?
Is it worth it? The judgment, the fact that turning back is impossible
once you’ve started.  So many things hold us back.  And should they?
That’s the question.
Is what we imagine to be dark, really so bad?
Maybe what we think is light, and good, is terrible and trapping.
But it’s right, they’ll say.
Are they wrong? Are we?

I don’t know if she’ll leave her husband.
Will she think about how this man is treating her?
The abusive, the controlling, the accusing, the dismissive attitude.
The fact he’s left or cheated on his previous – current? – wife.

The thrill is there.  I can feel it from seats over.  It’s dark, it’s dirty, and it’s tangible.

It’s a plunge only one wants to make, because his life is over without a partner.

Will she end her life, for him?

[Will she begin her life for him?]

The mother behind me has left, just before the couple.
She doesn’t hear how the end plays out.  She doesn’t want to.
She doesn’t know if the other woman has decided to leave her husband.
She doesn’t know if they have come to a conclusion at all.

I stayed and listened. I’m here even after they have left.

I know as much as the woman who left before me.

I’m not meant to know anything at all.

Cycle

I can say

The air is heavy
is it snow, or is it rain?

I can say

My lids are closing
though awake I must remain

I can say

A thousand things
that have all been said before

And still you will not know
how long I’ve paced the –

—-

I can tell

You that I love the sun
but sleep throughout the day

I can tell

My mother that I’m home
but then again I’ll stray

I can tell

A teacher I’ve worked hard
but, of course, I never touched my pen

And still you will not know
how many prayers I’ve prayed: Ah –

—-

I may lie

Down on my bedroom floor
having torn off all the sheets

I may lie

Or run or skip or jump
Through cold and empty streets

I may lie

Alone at night, sleeping
with a forked and bitter tongue

And still I’d feel the distant pain:
words unheard still –

—-

I well know

The suffering in the hearts of men
for long I’ve felt the blows.

I well know

The taste of bloody words
that come from mouths of foes.

I well know

How you long to devote
your soul to keeping quiet

But I don’t know, nor ever will
how to quell the –

—-

Here he comes

Mean hearts have stung
this lonely man who walks at night

Here he comes

Under starry skies
under cloud and through moonlight

Here he comes

Through tree and bush
over ocean, river, levee

And still he doesn’t know
How his heart could feel so –

—-

I have seen

How broken hearts can riot
and how they can also just give up

I have seen

This broken man who slanders
so he may drink from loving cup

I have seen

All my own failures, have tasted my
regret, and from these I cannot run.

Because of this I cannot know
the simple pleasure of day’s –

Just Another Music Monday

Underrated or Little Known Bands

I know you wanna stay in bed, but it’s light outside,
It’s light outside

 Who wants to get up early in the morning?  Never mind to go to class…never mind at the beginning (Monday) of a very long week…

But we have to.  So, in honour of waking up, taking charge play some Wakey!Wakey! (particularly ‘Light Outside’ – maybe followed by ‘Almost Everything’) for some excellent morning music – and excellent in general.

Everybody leaves, so why…why wouldn’t you?

To continue along our Monday (in a ‘positive’ way) … I’m sure your ‘Great Expectations’ of the day will all be fulfilled so why not play the song by Gaslight Anthem.  (Follow with: ‘ ’59 Sound’ and ‘Old White Lincoln’)

Then (although this band is not little known), just spend the rest of your Monday rocking out to Goo Goo Dolls – because, let’s be realistic: for the gloomy (or the unreasonably happy), they have a très appealing sound.

I don’t want the world to see me, because I don’t think that they’d understand
When everything’s made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am. 

And on this Monday, like every Monday, I realize that you have no idea who I am, what I want, what I’m going to do – does anyone?  You don’t know your friends, you don’t know your family, and you’re never going to change anything.

Cheers to a melancholy day.

3 parts 

I

As the sun sets, my sorrow grows,
The lights are dim, and the television screens pointless shows

Aladdin’s lamp is the only one I’d currently light,
I could use a wish, and there’s no prediction for shooting stars tonight

II

I hate it here: the place is filled with princesses.

And a sorrow blooms in my chest.
My heart is heavy, and my head is light.

But whether I’m in love, or I’m surfing a nicotine buzz is unknown

As I breathe, smoke fills my lungs, and I feel a heaviness – a restriction in my chest –
so that I don’t feel light, but weighted.

And so my mind is.

Desire between snapping and murderous rage
at being dominated, controlled….
Or not caring….

… to not care would be a wonderful blessing.
And maybe I don’t?

My hand smells like cigarettes, and as I ball my fist,
I imagine smashing it into a face…or three.

But I hesitate – do I not want a world without violence?

So I hold my hand, and bite my tongue – so hard –
blood drips over my lips and down my chin.

There is no one to kiss away this pain. No deathly
grip or vice in which to hold and hang this thing

Held over me.

III

You are three parts, and still not whole.
I’ve fallen down some rabbit hole, now living like some sightless mole,
and walking over hellish burning coal so that I may play the role
of perfect person – never a troll – while I feel my withered soul
is draining away as if someone stole – without paying the toll –

My freedom; and my love: my heart.

But if flew away from her reach

That feeling of nausea you get from trapping
That pounding head, drum beat on temple, inside out
And the gasp for breath and wheezy sob
Mascara smear, patch it up real quick
Calm the shaking shoulder, stroke hand through my own hair
Calm yourself, because this is wrong, lest somebody should see

I am so filled with sorrow.
I wish it was possible for you to understand.
This bubbling mirth is just surface deep and
Every wound is too deep to see…or has on the surface healed.

I wish at every moment I could tell you the truth,
Because everyone deserves the truth,
But all I can offer is my bitter-sweet regret,
For the actions I have not done yet, and also the ones I have –
Even if they only affect my own person.

I haven’t cried like this since innocence.
I am a deeply unhappy person –
Is there no hope for people like us?
Those passionate few…
Shall we die? Together?