A year and eight days ago I sat with my graduating class. All dressed up in caps and gowns, ready to enter the world. I was tickled by the coincidental timing. The day I was born was to be the day I was set free to live my own life. It was ever so slightly intimidating, scary and ... unknown.

And there we sat, listening to a friend solo on his sax to the national anthem. We all heard the bad note he was making up for, but it didn't matter. The one sour note only reminded me of our rehearsal. It was nothing like what I expected a rehearsal to be. Instead of parading us around the gymnasium, we sat and listened to one of the wisest statements I've ever heard.

"This is your day. Who cares if you trip, or stumble on stage. Have fun and be proud of yourselves."

Now here I am. A year older and hopefully a year wiser. Sadly, it wasn't until eight days ago that I realized the value of those words spoken. Amidst trying to build my career, get a house and hopefully one day meeting someone truly special, each day from that day has been mine. I will trip and I will stumble on stage. I will hear many sour notes, but with them will come great improvisations that will sing "I made a mistake but I'm living life to the fullest!"

I will try not to forget that, and I hope no one else does either.

Happy one year anniversary MTU class of 2008!

Searching

The one who walked passed
at the store
looking for the cosmetics.

Perhaps it's the girl
at the gas station counter.
The one who walked to work
in the freezing weather.

Or even the bartender,
while already busy with her chores.
Maybe she will ask.

Are you okay?

And maybe with her
I will feel
confident enough
to say

No.

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Another oldy. That one's back from January.
A little gloomy but it's better than not posting right?

Bad Dream

I had a bad dream
The other night
my baby was crying
I didn't know how to make things right.
When I tried to hold her
she pushed me away
and anything I mentioned
was the wrong thing to say

Don't leave me honey
it was only a bad dream
don't leave me baby
it's not as bad as you make it seem

I woke up in the morning
and her bedside was cold
she had left in July
that was all I was told
had no reason without her
to go on with my day
so I reached for the whiskey
and drank the bad dream away

Don't leave me honey
it was only a bad dream
Don't leave me baby
it's not as bad as you make it seem.

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An old bit I wrote in December. It was an attempt to
get some words to try to practice some blues scales to.
Never really got anything down musically, and I
can't sing when I play :)

Now let's see if I can dig anything else up

The Things I Fear

Looking too rich or looking too poor
Not finding someone who I can adore
Stereotypes and associations
Losing myself through generalizations
Having to choose who's really a friend
Or if for me, will they take a stand
Talking too much or being too shy
Percieved agreement that's really a lie
Being forgotten or being dismissed
Leaving for months and not being missed
Taken for granted or being smothered
You're laughing now but really are bothered
Being too pushy or pushing away
Not knowing what is the right thing to say
Having no secrets or closing my book
Letting myself take too close a look
If I dare search, the things I will see
I'm terrified that you might be like me

Posted with LifeCast

Square Shots

Gail, bottle in hand and two square shots. Vodka, her choice even though she hates it. Truthfully, I cringe at the thought myself. Before long, the lights were out and the movie started. We watched from the comfort of a warm blanket, eying the fire water taunting use and no chaser to boot. She poured the round and psyched herself before the first drink, much like she did for the fifth. I breathed out the fumes and as the juice began to talk hold, I thought about the day ahead, welcoming the expected disorientation who's only cure being plentiful sleep and laziness. She fell asleep first, in my lap on the couch. The movie ended by then leaving only soft music looping as I stared at the empty squares reflecting the bright television. My body was in waves, urging me to join Gail in sleep. The night ended there and in the morning we would move to a big bed where we could better laugh at our aches and nausea.

Picture Perfect

another poem by
another poet
with another metaphor

it does nothing for me

so i flip to the next page
while on the toilet
my cat attempting
to crawl into my pants
hanging at my ankles

yet another poem
by another poet

suddenly i feel
as though i'm looking
at pictures
asking
myself
why is this worth writing

i don't know you enough
to see your beautiful
landscape and foxes

i don't know you enough
to care about noisy
train stations
or
four thousand year old

turtles

he's been boiled anyway

instead, invite me in and tell
what makes you tick
and spare me
the simile

show me
you

not your reconstructed
dream world
used to hide
insecurities

give me something to work from
to learn from
to think about without comparing
it to my

less beautiful

surroundings

show me
life

show me truth

not another poem

Originality

sitting at home
still
wondering how to
inspire my own self
still
tried of trying

nothing comes of continuing
to script
in a blank

a space where few
pass and where
my ideas
come to pass

done and done
once written and read over
once
nothing new anymore,
it's been done.

the thoughts have been had
by me
had by them
and by you
us

yet us don't speak
thoughts, we act
unknowingly
not knowing real
want
not knowing
happy, it's what
us wants.

I sit still
with nothing done
and not spoken
expecting the easy

so you take your stuff
and sell
your thoughts and eyes
the same thoughts
been done and sold
the same eyes across many

and me? i still sit
still half
done and half
seen since
once had by me
completely
then had by us

instead i half do
and hope to share
my only half
with a one not
many
so that one may have
my eyes
my thoughts

and the one eyes
see
and the one thoughts
not yet tired
can consider that their
scenes and
mind is gifted to them
not to all
half appreciated
half remembered
my half