This blank page is getting me down
I’m starting to lose my calm and collected
Cool. I’m sweating in a panic
My clothes feel too tight and constricting
I might be going insane
I might be falling in love
With these words as I type them.
Are these the words and phrases that
Are going to define me?
Is this the therapy I need to move on?
I continue to ask questions to a less and less
Blank page.
Which, doesn’t help since it
Cannot answer my delusions
And cannot make me grander.
Do I put myself in these situations to
Fill up blank pages?
Am I really talking to a full page
Of my own thoughts?
The page says “yes”.
Wednesday, October 08, 2008
Keep The Waves At Bay
Sitting with coffee in hand
Examining the day
Feet deep in sand
Keeping the waves at bay.
Watching the sun work
It’s way through the sky
Higher and higher
As I just sit by
I listen for your foot
Steps, slow and deliberate
While I work though the root
Of what keeps the waves at bay
As I sit by
As I sit by
I keep the waves
At bay.
Examining the day
Feet deep in sand
Keeping the waves at bay.
Watching the sun work
It’s way through the sky
Higher and higher
As I just sit by
I listen for your foot
Steps, slow and deliberate
While I work though the root
Of what keeps the waves at bay
As I sit by
As I sit by
I keep the waves
At bay.
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
Scotch for Steve
I fill the glass with ice and slowly add scotch to the halfway point.
I watch the ice settle and slowly become one with the warmer liquid.
Sitting back I examine the glass at different angles,
the world becomes smaller through the glass.
It spins my vision into multi hued shards of light.
I can now let go of the day and let the night reclaim me.
I watch the ice settle and slowly become one with the warmer liquid.
Sitting back I examine the glass at different angles,
the world becomes smaller through the glass.
It spins my vision into multi hued shards of light.
I can now let go of the day and let the night reclaim me.
Sayin' Goodbye
We made our way through the wet grass and sat down by the water.
I smiled watching the water rise higher and higher.
I felt like it would wash over me, wash me clean.
I held back my tears; you should see a stronger person than this.
The lightning illuminated the monuments and the water pulsed higher driven by sheets of rain. We sat frozen in time refusing to acknowledge its passing.
The rain fell faster and you held me close trying to quiet my shivering body, so close I thought I might break.
Looking down I could see pieces of me floating away in the turbulent waters. I knew if I tried to gather them back up I would only fall in the water and be consumed.
I let them go and held on to what was left. I knew that this night would soon be over and time can’t be held off.
Soon I’ll be looking out over another body of water.
Maybe I’ll still be thinking of you, but maybe there will be someone new beside me.
I smiled watching the water rise higher and higher.
I felt like it would wash over me, wash me clean.
I held back my tears; you should see a stronger person than this.
The lightning illuminated the monuments and the water pulsed higher driven by sheets of rain. We sat frozen in time refusing to acknowledge its passing.
The rain fell faster and you held me close trying to quiet my shivering body, so close I thought I might break.
Looking down I could see pieces of me floating away in the turbulent waters. I knew if I tried to gather them back up I would only fall in the water and be consumed.
I let them go and held on to what was left. I knew that this night would soon be over and time can’t be held off.
Soon I’ll be looking out over another body of water.
Maybe I’ll still be thinking of you, but maybe there will be someone new beside me.
Friday, April 18, 2008
Daily Drudgery
This is my day:
9:15 am. get to work. Play on Facebook for an hour.
10:15 am. My boss gets in. I pretend to work.
11:15 am. I do a few minutes of work dispersed between games of scrabble online with friends.
12:15 pm. Sweet Lord, it's almost lunchtime! Yes yes yes yes! I eat something at my desk and wait for 1:45pm.
1:45 pm. I leave for the gym and work out for an hour. I get back at 3.
3 pm. I do about an hour of work or look like I'm working. I tend to walk around to kill time.
3:45 pm. I go get a coffee, maybe get some food.
4:00 pm. I rejoice in the fact that it is almost 5.
5:oo pm. I get the hell out and re-energize. On the walk home I fantasize about quitting my job and moving to france.
Repeat Mon-fri.
9:15 am. get to work. Play on Facebook for an hour.
10:15 am. My boss gets in. I pretend to work.
11:15 am. I do a few minutes of work dispersed between games of scrabble online with friends.
12:15 pm. Sweet Lord, it's almost lunchtime! Yes yes yes yes! I eat something at my desk and wait for 1:45pm.
1:45 pm. I leave for the gym and work out for an hour. I get back at 3.
3 pm. I do about an hour of work or look like I'm working. I tend to walk around to kill time.
3:45 pm. I go get a coffee, maybe get some food.
4:00 pm. I rejoice in the fact that it is almost 5.
5:oo pm. I get the hell out and re-energize. On the walk home I fantasize about quitting my job and moving to france.
Repeat Mon-fri.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Alaskan Memories
My memories, once fresh, grow hazy and dark. Is everything as I remember or a product of my imagination. It doesn’t seem possible that just a year ago I was walking, waist deep in snow, to work.
On occasion, I would run late because the bus would have to stop for a moose in the road. Some friends would cross country ski to and from work. People from the “Outside” ask me, still, if I lived in an igloo. Sometimes I tell them I did.
Never in my life have I lived somewhere where the mountains surround you at all times, where the wind whispers tribal secrets and the radio plays native music. Alaska truly was another world, one that I was lucky enough to have touched.
The summers are short and fleeting, but beautiful in ways that I cannot describe. The winters wrap themselves around you completely and choke out the sun. On a day after a snowfall all you see for miles is white, even the horizon is coated. It gets so cold your hair freezes and becomes white, car doors freeze shut over night if not tended to properly. You can get so cold you feel you will never be warm again and there is only one road out of Alaska and it takes you to another country before you can get back into the States again. Alaska is what fairy tales are made of, or what they hope to one day become.
On occasion, I would run late because the bus would have to stop for a moose in the road. Some friends would cross country ski to and from work. People from the “Outside” ask me, still, if I lived in an igloo. Sometimes I tell them I did.
Never in my life have I lived somewhere where the mountains surround you at all times, where the wind whispers tribal secrets and the radio plays native music. Alaska truly was another world, one that I was lucky enough to have touched.
The summers are short and fleeting, but beautiful in ways that I cannot describe. The winters wrap themselves around you completely and choke out the sun. On a day after a snowfall all you see for miles is white, even the horizon is coated. It gets so cold your hair freezes and becomes white, car doors freeze shut over night if not tended to properly. You can get so cold you feel you will never be warm again and there is only one road out of Alaska and it takes you to another country before you can get back into the States again. Alaska is what fairy tales are made of, or what they hope to one day become.
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