What a Shitty Weekend

The only thing that could have possibly made this weekend any worse is if a three-ton rhinocerous was dropped out of a cargo plane, made a failed attempt to open an emergency chute, dropped through the roof of my house and crushed the already-broken toenail of my left pinky toe.

Guess who has the ability to fall in love with three people, have two dates lined up, and have his heart broken three times in the same weekend?

No, Andy Kaufmann is still legally dead. But I am still alive and kicking. Kicking like a ferocious mule with blue balls.

I don't quite understand why fate has conspired to make sure that women deal me a bad hand lately, but I'm still trying to figure out HOW and IF I can beat the house at its own game. Like TT (her nickname, as the "innocent" will be protected), who stood me up two weeks in a row and refused to return inquiries. Problem is, I still have no idea if she has a boyfriend or not.

Or MH, who, after three months of careful eyeing at karaoke nights, was finally courageous enough to venture a chance introduction at a chance karaoke meeting elsewhere! What a delight to find out that not only is she amazingly cute AND has a vibrant, magnetic personality, but she is SMART and shy in only the most INTRIGUING of ways!

After setting one movie date, she calls one hour before and confesses to having a boyfriend.

Honestly, what the fuck. I don't see why a person will let this can happen. Especially when they pre-cursor the confession with "I was drunk, and you are a really attractive guy, and I can't believe I was flirting with you so much but I couldn't help myself..." Thanks. Now not only do I have reason to be incredibly hurt, I have reason to suspect that even if we managed to follow through on an incredible connection, I have solid grounds for suspicion of your motives whenever you'd be meeting new people.

As for the third...let's just say that when you meet an incredibly hot, unique bartender, hit it off and have a great conversation, get her to volunteer her working days to you and end with big smiles and a "see you this weekend", it doesn't neccessarily mean that she will be in the same mood for conversation when you return at the aforementioned set date.

Live and learn.

I hate America.

Goodbye Mary, Goodbye Jane, Will We Ever Meet Again?

Why is it that, even if you don't know someone very well, their unexpected departure from your life leaves you strangely frustrated and isolated?

I'm not talking about death. Just someone literally departing and leaving for the next phase in their life. It's a strange thing to experience a small pool of depression every time you look through someone else's travels and imagine what it'd be like to travel with them for a while.

There are different stages to companionship. Travelers on the same path walk and talk, without a need for each other until circumstances press them for help. Even a small bond can lead to acknowledgment of the other, acceptance of a friendly demeanor, or something more.

But if someone asks for help, or friendship, or companionship, prematurely, why is it that the consequences can be so dire?

Here's a drink to you, beautiful stranger, and may all your dreams come true. I miss you and hope to cross paths again; until then, farewell, and all the best.

--To One Swede

A Champagne Dream

Induced by bubbles, laid to rest in a matter of minutes.
I dream with both eyes open.

Strange tales of the present I see,
mixed with futuristic tales of apathy.

Too many things pass by unoticed.
Too many things go by without dreams.

We dream too much of grander deeds,
and in the process forget the small things.

Who told us not to sweat the small stuff?
What was the importance? What an obscure message...

...yet how important.

Why are people considered "insignificant"?
Why are people overlooked for ideas of grandeure pertaining to

"fame" or "glory"?
We could laugh at it, if we dare.

And we would be right to do so.

A challenge issued forth; step up and challenge your own worst enemy...
...yourself.

Keep It To Yourself

Stop wielding yourself like a club.
Let someone else talk for a change.
Intelligence is subtle. You are not.
Others need to be recognized.
Don’t quash. You’re more fragile than you think.
Or maybe you know it, and that’s why you’re punchy with volume.

Either way, it’s not my problem. I’m just still getting used to it.

Standing Still

Standing still
and watching you
is no substitute
for reaching out
and touching you.

Touching you
with my pale flesh
is no substitute
for reaching out
and tasting you.

Tasting you
with my red warmth
is no substitute
for reaching out
and pressing against you.

Pressing against you
with my nudity
is no substitute
for reaching out
and enveloping you.

Enveloping you
with my strongest embrace
is no substitute
for reaching out
and penetrating you.

Penetrating you
with all my mind, body, and soul,
is no substitute,
for loving you.

Loving you
with all that I am, and then some,
is no substitute
for loving you enough
to let you go.

--for No-one in particular.

Bush's State of the Union

I'd like to put out there (along with millions of other Americans) that I'm dismally appalled and ashamed of the comments Bush put forth in his latest State of the Union address. It's great for buzzword study; all he did was mash some historical facts together (a.k.a. we won WWII, beat the Russians to Auschwitz and other labor camps, and apparently he refers to himself as a Jedi by saying "faced down an evil empire,") and top it off with idealistic fancies of individuality, compassion, freedom and democracy.

To see the speech for yourself, check out http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2006/01/31/AR2006013101468.html. The "Post" also has a great tally-chart at the beggining of the article catalogging the number of times Bush mentions the words freedom, Iraq, AIDS, democracy, and other gems. Enjoy.

Allegro

Walking in I find you, already inside;
I guess I left a window open.
I still can't abide just standing inside
and letting you walk in whenever you want.

And I breathe a sigh when I catch your eyes.
You know how they say that the eyes never lie?
I throw you a wave, but there's someone behind me,
then I see...
you're looking over my shoulder.

This place is so old, it's thin and it's cold,
I don't know why I sometimes come back here.
It'll never be ours, it's already sold -
a small man in glasses bought it.

He says it's all right, it gets enough light,
but sometimes it leaks when it rains.
It just ain't the same as his old place in Spain,
where he spent his youth in a studio,
that belonged to a girl,
who was sunny and sharing,
who he loved very much,
who sold all his records...

And I breathe a sigh when I catch your eyes,
I see you smiling and I see
your mouth moves around without making a sound,
and then I see...
you're eating an apple.

Response Paper to "The Little Prince": Drama 252 (2004)

“The grown-ups are very strange…”
-The Little Prince

Oh Antione –
scraping the depths of human reason
with naught but your hands,
you bring up from the deep
the simple gift of worth.

Matters of consequence mean
naught to matters of heart;
thus spake your golden-haired angel
to one who’d forsake the roads
of virtue and beauty.

To the hapless soul who met
your Little Prince upon the desert sands,
you dissolved the false mantel of pride
he wore about his shoulders so piously,
never knowing what truths he missed.

You gave the pilot wings on which
to travel the realms of simpler planes of thought,
that, no less complex than matters of consequence,
should teach us more about ourselves and life
than numbers, figures, and objects of material.

These values you taught us:

Take not seriously words spoken without import;
they glimmer and glow when first uttered,
but their light fades and their fire burns, quick,
leaving nothing but dead ash behind.

Never run from your doubt;
journey till your travels yield to you what you need to know,
to understand what you need in order to return.

Do unto others as you would have them do unto you;
one must require from each only the duty they can perform.
But don’t require from someone
things you have no need for.

Pay no attention to the vain, for the vain pay none to you -
nor do they lend an ear when it would be
the most helpful to another than he.

Substituting a problem
to overcome another problem,
does nothing but add to your problems.

Take pride in what you have.
Appreciate the value in what you have.
But leave the unobtainable where it lies,
if it truly cannot be claimed by you.

That which is beautiful in meaning
is truly useful.
Beauty can be found in many places;
don’t judge value by what you see, but rather
by how it may be applied.

Knowledge is nothing without experience.
Even when the mind has knowledge of the experience,
it cannot possibly substitute for what is felt through the body itself…
…and you always know less than what you think you know.

Don’t overlook values;
only through experience and reflection
can you truly learn about the world and yourself.

“Hold fast to your friends,” your Little Angel spoke,
“not everyone has had a friend before.”
Friends may come in the strangest of guises,
but it is not guise which makes a friend,
it is love and need.

Friends shed new light on old shades of life,
add new depth to old memories,
dredge fresh love where old love glossed itself over.
But most of all a friend will fill you,
and not leave you beautiful and empty.

“It is only with the ear that one can see rightly;
what is essential is invisible to the eye.”

After blessings of friendship were breathed into a newly-met stranger,
your Little Prince ascended back to Heaven in a flash of yellow,
so much like the hair on the wise head of the young boy,
so much like the golden scarf that graced his youthful neck.

And with that he passed away from this world,
this hellish world of material needs,
and returned to his things of beauty, his life of meaning.
And we are most grateful to you, Little Prince,
for showing us just how grand life can be.

“…Children, watch out for the baobabs!”

--January 29th, 2004, Drama 252 Response Paper: “The Little Prince”

Passing Fancy

We are but a scance to fairer lands,
a passing race entwined
to fancy’s brief desires, changing
ceaselessly with time;

The briefest glance of sun upon
the morning mists, so pale and grey,
that yearn for one to bind them whole,
upon the break of day.

The passing years change not the lands,
they yield no crop to sway the plagues.
The likes of we, who steal the seeds,
are scratched by thorns upon our legs.

Until a river split the fields in
twain, we cannot say
that hope for beauty’s flower
has been lost to us again.

--for Farran

Nameless-Faced Stranger

You look to me as if you need
A friend or helping hand.
I wake up in the morning and hear your
Silence greet me every time.
The open window like a porthole
Shows me thoughts you’d never release.
I only wanted to ask you if everything was okay, once or twice,
Or ask about your day
As you puffed on another cigarette, another breath to face the world
And bobbed your head to unspoken conversations, proving your point with talking hands.
You’ll never know this song was meant for you,
My nameless faced neighbor, who labored by her stairs
To make sense of the world around her.

--for ?

Looking at the World through a Straw

I focused on a smaller part of life,
ignoring the rest that gapes so wide.
A circle drawn on life material,
a hole cut in the world outside.
And through this shrunken view,
the shadows lighting up my eye,
I glimpsed through time to grasp
this bit of pain you keep inside.

Opposed to the open mind,
no breath of life for wandering eyes.
A little glimpse of loneliness,
a little taste of what is blind.
Perhaps I could have looked at
this small view of yours before,
and perhaps you’ve shown it too me
at a time, and shown me more.

So after all this time has passed,
all this time I’ve thrown away,
all the chances I could get to know you,
all the chance to let you be,
your light has been extinguished
through this telescopic view of mine;
and burned out from too-bright hope that never
found a means to share a life.

I apologize; my choice has led
its way to your demise.
But choice was choice and I forsook
the higher path of staying kind.
Yet I’m sorry that I looked at all
the face around your eyes,
and missed that little glimpse of pain
you’ve always kept inside.

--for Many

Wings

Friendship gave you wings with which to fly.
You triumphed over the bonds of iron and chain that shackle so many,
like paltry fools, into the dismal plane of acquaintance,
and conquered the wind and sky.

You showed me that friends can matter more
than anything else in the world,
and with these wings you soared above and let the world see
how beautiful a friend can be.

--for David, 2002

Casual Tones

In my moments of reflection
I think of what I felt for you,
one time,
and how that emotion is now changed.
Once you were mine. Once you were everything;
my light, my flame, that which comforts in the midst of deepest shame,
the inspiration for notes struck gently in the dark...
and now we talk in casual tones.

The fingers of my heart no longer reach out
to touch your skin,
to graze your cheek,
to cup your face;
they hang now, slack at my sides,
or locked together in folds upon my lap.
We didn’t end in tears, or half-choked voices filled with grief.
We made a new beginning, you and me...
and now we talk in casual tones.

I sat by our fountain for a time,
laughing softly to myself,
plucking wishes from the water and rubbing away the copper covers
that hid the dullness inside both them and me,
while meandering thoughts traced themselves in the dust,
my fingers trailing the words away...

I laughed at my foolishness,
my false pride,
the irony of unused freedom won,
and the gloom my shackles, lost, retain.
So I wept,
and sang,
and hoped for you again;
but I wrap the fingers of my heart around you, still...
amidst our casual tones.

--pour Camille, 1999

Christmas Break Rap

So on the flight home from Maui, my brother and I decided to have a "Rap-Off". During the first 45-minute flight (followed by the six-hour flight to Seattle, thaaaank God for drinking all day that induces sleep on a plane) ;D, we decided that we would each write a rap about our holidays and compare at the end of it. Fun times. *Ahem* So, without further ado, here is my "Flight Tangent; New Year's 'Wrap'"

Lookin' out the window, glancing at my watch,
hopin' to catch a view of Santa Claus
'cause Im' flying on Christmas Eve (sleigh bells),
flying on Christmas Eve (in da air!)

Through the air I'm soaring, bustin' out a phat
rhyme on a dime 'cause it's Christmas time,
while the North Star this metal bird follows,
spreading my verse of peace like my man Carlos
Santana: when will this metal bird landah?

I'm heading to the beach of Maui,
hookin' up wid hot honeys and chill wid-da-family,
and these Maui girls got me crazed, I'm just starin
at the little-hoola-skirts they're all a shakin' and a wearin',

to feed my erection as I stare at her body; perfection'
she's got that little taste of island that make me
wanna get down with guava, baby, uh -
get down with guava.

And as this little plane lands I'm right out on the sand,
rollin' wid my brotha and my best-made-man
and we're taking the island by storm (take it easy),
like Katrina we break up the norm (too soon?)

As I walk, I give a shout "Hey girl, Mele Lalikemaka,
come here and lemme show ya how to throw a REAL 'shaka'!"
And all my island peeps call me their number-1 'brah',
'cause I'm the best thing to hit since Haleakala.

:D I think it's fun.

Falling Down the Rabbit Hole

I met a Stranger yesterday,
his house was esoteric and his way was strange.
He asked if I was buying,
I told him I was visiting a friend I'd only met moments before.

He showed me through the door.

My bare feet touched the stone,
and breathlessly I stepped without a sound;
He said, "Come inside and look around,
the best view's six feet underground."

Raven met a Rabbit,
fixed his beady eyes upon the shiny face of Rabbit's pocket watch.
Rabbit knew his time was near -
all he could hear was the tumultuous sound of Daddy's ticking clock;

and upon the door he knocked.

He was greeted with a groan,
and hand in hand we danced the circle 'round;
He said, "Come inside and look around,
the best view's six feet underground."

The Root of All Evil

A crying woman, water-soft,
was clinging to a lamp
to hold her from the grasping hands
that tugged to pull her pride away.
She wept for naught, the morning clear
cared not for both her cries or fears.
‘Twas only me, upon the street,
that witnessed hateful lust of man.

She glimpsed a worried glance and turned,
to rake it with her pleas;
it turned its face to walk its way away,
and never looked again.
Now ‘oft I wonder what took place,
behind that sallow frown and face;
I beheld this terrible thing to see
and gained my lack of empathy.

Second Year of Suffering - Juliet, you Heartless Bitch

Within a tangled web I lie,
ensnared, and in the spider’s eye
I see a glint of pride; and I do wonder
why I led me here.
A gentle tug against the web
proves unmatched by the strength of thread;
I lie, ensnared, and wonder whyI ever led me here.

A gleam of light both penetrates
and intrigues like a burning flame
that burns a moth to shame while dying,
brightly lit in candlelight.
A gleam in spider’s eye I see,
a gaze transfixed onto me
bringing sharp, painful reality
into clairvoyance wrought by ash -

I taste it in my burning mouth,
I smell it in my burning lungs,
I feel your sting through all the veins
that run dead cold from blood now gone.
Provoke me, implore me,
ignore me, seduce me,
but shame affixed on what you sow
will reap it’s death on you for woe.

Your misdeeds will not find me here.
Your web I will escape.
Your foul-mouthed chattering -
a craft of which I won’t partake.

Fie, fie! foul creature of spite!
I hold you unto home, the like
of which I care to spit upon
and might, perchance, transform alight
into dark candles.
Light the night afire with holy aftermath!

You shan’t escape, your tangled web
will prove a trap in bitter end.

My groggy fire burns it out.
I wake myself with scream and shout.
I struggle with the lamp, and beneath
a tangled mass of sheets espy
a morbid form, so finely wrought,
a prize I shan’t hold forth again;
the pillow squeezes breath from me,
alike to you at tragic end.
Your fire, quiet now, I snuffed.
Your bosom now I quiet clutch.

I’m sorry, babe, so sorry.

A thief caught in the act could not
provide a better motive just;
turmoil ends with single thrust,
and softly do I die akin
to morbid form entangled thus.

Mother Courage Musings

Feel your pulse and rise up out of bed
wake up now and live outside your head
the city street, it calls you out,
strut the beat and walk about, saying
shove the rest and come with me instead.

Crawling down the Avenue one day
looked around and smiled at what people say
kept your laughter to yourself,
siftws the crowd to see what's left,
and said shove the rest and come with me instead.

Give your mind to you and no one else
show them it's okay to be yourself
screw the street and walk the road
less traveled, come and let me show you
how to shove the rest and be yourself instead.

It Won't Do: In the Spirit of Bobby Dylan

It won’t do no good to carry on and smile, babe,
since you’ve done it all before.
And you’ve spent all your dimes calling early,
but I won’t answer anymore.
I’ve been sitting and contemplating thinking ‘bout the past,
looking through our photos wondering why it didn’t last,
it all happened just a little too fast,
but now we’re back to where we’re at.

And I know you’d hate for me to pity you, babe,
but you know I really do.
and I know I told you that I really loved you,
you know I really meant it too.
But in the end there’s nothing left for me to feel but used,
you came and went so fast you left me dazed and confused,
your love is pretty strong, but pain’s the only tool you use,
and you’re the reason why I write the blues.

So long honey babe,
here’s to what we’ve said and done.
I realize now there wasn’t much before this,
and I think we’ve had our fun.
I wish you hadn’t left me alone in the rain,
I thought this time was different, it was the same old thing,
no regrets from me, but never again,
and no song for you’s been written since.