Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Disposure in Closure

These films hold answers
For these cancerous sighs
Of things that could have been
With intangible surprise
And literature lies
Of themes once upon a time
Of love and triumph
And nursery rhymes

Well this silence will kill though
As we whisper to pillows
Entrust in them tears
Are we there yet?
Still no
Reaching hopelessly
To those who loved
Push and shove, ill toll
Had better shoes to fill, so
Peering out, chin on a window sill, low
They go

Never looking back
And we laugh deliberately
Hoping that they lapse
Giving the door a tap
A subconscious trap
For a facial slap
For as sweet as the sound is
We can now adapt

And just the notion
Of regret potion
Coating the throats of the host
Will satisfy the devotion
That lingered on coax
Like a restless ghost

Cause as new films are made
Their faces can fade
New ones pay more
Than just minimum wage
So know that those who left
Wonder of the thing they end
They live with the choices
While we live to rise again

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Remembering Kitchener

“You don’t have to come all the way to my office,” I compromise with one of my manager located two towers down from where my office is. “I’ll just meet you half way in the lobby area, okay?”

“Oh I see what you’re trying to do,” I can visualize his grin over the telephone.

“What?” I honestly didn’t know what he was thinking.

“You just want an excuse to go visit with what’s-her-name from front desk.”

“First of all, no I don’t. Secondly, that chapter is closed. We’ve moved on.”

“But do you ever think about her?”

His grin is still present on his face as he hands me the new agreements for an employee, trying to get a rise out of me. But is it that hard to believe? Two individuals who once shared strong feelings for each other moving on with their lives?

I glance at the agreement as my manager’s voice trails off into the distance and a word catches my eye. Kitchener. The employee’s address before moving to Edmonton was Kitchener, Ontario, a place that I have a spot for in my heart; a word that always makes me wonder what if.

A year ago, I was approached by my boss with the opportunity to move to our Kitchener office for a one year term doing the same job I do here. My rent would be covered; my plane ticket home would be expensed for holidays and breaks and it was an opportunity that I felt would change my life.

I was all for it; willing to leave what I had here to see what life had planned for me. For the next few weeks I would day dream about what my apartment would look like and what there would be to do in my new neighborhood. My heart raced with excitement and fear. My band would have to take a one year hiatus; maybe I’d grow a beard and work on my music in the evenings; have some conversation with strangers at the local coffee shop; maybe even get a tattoo out there. But it never happened. Instead they decided to hire a temporary employee to cover the year stretch.

I’m not sitting here in Edmonton saying that I yearn for that event to go a different way because I absolutely love where I’m living now. In fact, it’s because of that event that allowed me to discover and develop many of the things I hold dear to me now.

You can say to many extents that I’m over Kitchener but there’s always going to be a part of me that wonders, once in a blue moon, how my life would have been had things not ended between us. Sometimes the things that never are, are the things that change you the most.

I look at my manger and smile, “Sure I do, once in a blue moon.”

Monday, March 21, 2011

Dance Like Ghost Lady is Not Waiting Somewhere With a Crowbar!

A slight smile comes over me as I glue my attention to the computer monitor as it displays a heartfelt video of a man purposing to his girlfriend in a public park on a sunny day. It was grand! Somehow, he manages to get her to the park, where he was said to be shooting a documentary – I’m guessing he’s a film maker of some sort. This allowed for video cameras to cover the event without the girlfriend catching on. There were a lot of people at the park, many of which were in cahoots with groom-to-be –OOPS! I’ve said too much!

Oh well, he sits his clueless fiancé – I mean, girlfriend – in a chair and starts singing her a song! Eventually, “random people” within range, join in with an elaborate dance number ending with the main man getting down on one knee and purposing. Awe, how romantic, right? And yet, I can’t help but guard myself, not so much because I’m scared she was going to say no but more so because I’m scared it was the start of a different kind of video. No, not porn, you sickos. Although if it were porn, I wouldn’t have my guard up at all. You can say that if it were porn, you’d catch me with my pants down. See what I did there?

Anyways, the videos that I’m referring to are those that start off as a nice soothing shot of beautiful scenic routes on the country side, with calm music and then SUDDENLY A PICTURE OF A GHOST LADY APPEARS ACCOMPANIED WITH CRAZY SHREIKING! That’s enough to make a grown my pee his pants, not saying I did though…

Many a times have I been victim to such cruel surprises leaving my heart weak and weary to all videos thereafter. So as I watch this man attempt the can-can and robot routines, I can’t help but take a step back behind my couch, in a position that would allow me to jump for cover if ghost lady were to appear.

Well, once the video was done, I go back and watch it with my full attention the whole way through and realize that I missed many beautiful parts, like this one guy who pretended to sweep the walk way of this park and ends up doing some back flips! Or a great scene when the groom-to-be holds up giant cue cards that said something to the effect of “I’ve loved you from the moment I met you, let’s get some BBQ and get busy.” Ok, maybe it wasn’t AS romantic as what I just typed, but it was pretty good.

My point is, being guarded will definitely protect you from the things that will hurt you but it’s going to make you miss out some great things too. It’s natural to have thick skin after you’ve been hurt but you got to ask yourself, “Is cutting your chances of seeing ghost lady really worth missing out on hearing the girl say yes to the proposal?” I guess for me, the back of this couch is not any safer. I mean, if the ghost lady really wants to get me, she’ll find a way; she is a ghost after all.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Disconnects Between Trenches and Towers

Oh Captain, I shout from deep in the trench
Where commotion
Like oceans
Push me where hard work went

And you see me, you see me, as you strategize
On the riggings
And diggings
Of the place where I lie

Though your speeches on change were very well thought out
I couldnt help but
Felt such
Isolation and doubt

Cause this mud can’t climb to the attention of your ear
Of the struggle;
That run ramped down here

And those changes that fall from your tower up high
It strips
And it whips
Now we don’t recognize

Until all we are, are means to something greater
When benches
In trenches
Could have been our savior

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

The Sales Pitch! Now With 10% More Chivalry!!

Her sigh translates to her saying, “Listen up fucker, I need your full attention.” So I guess I’ll humor her.

“I’m so sick of guys being so rude and selfish.” She starts. “I mean, what’s wrong with me? Am I not worth flowers or the biggest stuffed animal at the fair? Instead, I find myself an accessory on his arm during guy’s night, which is every fucking night! Where’s the romance, you know?

“The other day I caught myself having a daymare. That’s right. I pictured him sitting in front of the TV with a pizza pop in his hand. And just before he goes in to take a bite he looks over at me and casually asks, ‘wanna get married?’ The worst part is it’s not that far fetched.” She slams her face into my couch pillow, as if life itself was over.

It was 11 PM here in my little pad and I didn’t really have anything to do but I knew I didn’t want to sit here and lie through my teeth about how things will get better and how big old football quarter back, Ty Williams, will realize how awesome she is and change his ways and be the perfect boy toy! Thumbs up, big smile!

So I didn’t.

“He’s a genius.” Yeah, I said it!


“What happens next?”

“Well, I say yes and spend the rest of my miserable life with him I guess, but that’s not the point. Now tell me why you think he’s a --”

“Latisha, listen,” I pause my porn and look her in her eyes like a real friend should. “Fuck John Cusack.”

“I guess he’s pretty cute but --”

“I mean, dude wears a coat and holds up a boom box and talks about the stars and now every girl believes that we men are either that or nothing at all.” Chuck Klosterman is right. I almost puked this morning as I watched on youtube, a girl, teary-eyed, shaking her head yes to a rich guy in a suit during a NBA game as the words “WILL YOU MARRY ME, DEBBIE?” scrolled across the Jumbotron during the halftime show. The crowd applauded while girlfriends hit their boyfriends as a warning that they better step up their game or else. And in that moment the collective thought of all boyfriends was, “fuck John Cusack and fuck that rich guy too!”

And I know you all are thinking that I’m bitter as hell but let me ask you this; how is that rich guy in a suit any different from a typical salesman? Think about it.

Hey there, have I got a bargain for you. See this? Pretty handsome right? No? Well what if I add these red roses? Better? I thought so. What does it do? Well, I’ll tell you. Not only does it look good on display, it will never forget your anniversary, text you good morning every single day, kiss you good night and when times get tough, it always has something uplifting to say! Watch. “Oh honey, of course you don’t look fat. Go ahead and drink that energy drink with the skeleton on the can, it’s good for your metabolism.” Still not impressed? Well, look behind you. That’s right, fireworks. Had to give a guy a blowjob for that but it was worth seeing your face all shocked and happy. Wait, there’s more. Bam! Hear that? A live marching band playing your favorite Black Eyed Peas song. So will you take it? It has a life time guarantee and if you are not satisfied, you can bring it back and we’ll give you back half of it’s money! Buy this miniature version of it just in case and also get alimony payments!

Then you end up with 10 Shamwows that you never use.

“So would you rather have a salesman that suckers you into this world of happiness, only to disappoint you further down the road or have a guy purposing to you with a pizza pocket in his hand sitting there as much himself today as he will be for the rest of your lives?”

“But John Cusack also made 2010.”

My sigh translates to me saying, “Latisha, I’m going to finish my porn now. You best leave now or things might get sticky."

Monday, March 14, 2011

Document! Document! Document!

About a year ago, I spotted a chicken dish on the front cover of an Olive Garden menu and decided to give it a try with a simple point from my finger. Little did I know that the dish I chose would become one of the best served chicken I ever experienced. I remember it being softer than a soft porn with a melt-in-your-mouth quality; so much so that I, at one point, honestly thought I was eating fish and questioned the waitress’ order accuracy. I went back to Olive Garden three more occasion after that, the third of which started off disastrous. To my surprise, the menu had changed and the chicken dish that I had grown to depend on for my happiness was gone.

By now you must be wondering of the details of this dish; hoping that my vast vocabulary would do as much justice as it possibly can for this entrée that I hold on a golden pedestal. Was it served with rice or in a marinara sauce? Was it accompanied by the very bones that it grew accustom to or separated prior to meeting the pan? Was it even a pan that it was prepared on?

Sadly, I must confess that despite the praise I cannot, for the life of me, remember a single detail besides the tenderness. Do not misunderstand, I never forgot the impact that the meal had on me for this is not the first time that I have mentioned it. However, it seems that through the course of a year, my words and perception of said meal may or may not have changed, in turn making it impossible to render it to any degree. To paraphrase, through describing the dish in glorifying nature, I have lost track of what is truth, thus confusing myself on the very identity of it.

“Preposterous!” you may shout. “How can the best thing you’ve ever eaten be forgotten so easily?” And my rebuttal is, “Shut up, this is my article and you will read on!”

In the introduction of David Carr’s The Night of the Gun he writes;,” there are three sides to every story, my side, your side and the truth.” And I don’t think that it’s about forgetting at all. Nor is it lying. Indeed, that chicken entrée that once shone on the Olive Garden menu was the best I ever had but its absence since then prompt my mental perception to enhance its features, enhanced it beyond recognition.

It’s funny how our memories work like that. In a desperate attempt to preserve something special we destroy the very details that made them that way. So don’t make the same mistake that I did. Document! Document! Document!

Bets Off Luck

I finger the list of sins
Whilst whistling
Thinking it’s time for discipline
Of what must have been

And I ain’t talking no more fun
Or world war one
Or planning to have four sons
Looking back like “what have I done??”

I’m talking minimum wage
On a synonym stage
Something like a coming of age
I’m over initial rage

And I’m perspective bound
Unlike objective hounds
Firmly on respective grounds
In other words, humbled down

In an attempt to search source
To eliminate cursed remorse
Stir a cleansing course
Rather than a grim abort

Call it letting go or giving up
Dealing with this living stuff
Getting old, if that’s enough
I’m just taking my bets off luck

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Words so Light

These words are so light
Effortless, they take flight
To ears of those undeserving
Who accepted it with lips curving
But it stops then and there
Not even past the tiny hairs

That sprout atop the surface
Sliding off without a purpose
Forgotten even by the spitter
They lay around like common litter
Among other words as light
Not even worth a second sight

Then Anger starts to boil
They are sick of being spoiled
So they disguise themselves as truth
Sweet enough to kill a tooth
Sneaking into any heart
But didn't know how to play the part

Yet the soul does not speculate
It brightens and pro creates
Plans and dreams and self confidence
For once the mind not so dominant
So these words stands back
And aligns all the facts

Slips itself through the cracks
Couldn't handle the big task
Calls for harsh words to rescue
And for a lack of better words, kill
That spirit that it created
With their meaning, over inflated

And weep goes the heart
Thicker now than at the start
Vowing to never let words through
Even if they do hold true
So cautious be the lips
That let invalid words slip

Send truthful ones to smooth over
When all minds are on sober
For it's the heavy words that need projecting
Full of value, a heart reflecting
So vow to weigh if meaning's lack
That we shall hold strong, those words way back