Lost

Lost

Tuesday, 24 September 2013

Poetry

So I have been taking a creative writing class at my university and thought I would share some of the poetry that has come out of it...



Robot

He was built inside a factory
With gears and steel and sweat
And men praised themselves in industry
For the challenge they had met
“He’ll be better than a man” they said
A robot always is
Ship him out and box him up
Put nails into the lid

He arrived at noon and twenty
And the neighbors stood and stared
The father grabbed the crowbar
And the mother pulled her hair
“He’ll do everything we hate, they say”
As he was made to do
Turn him on and let him go
A robot shiny new

At first he washed the dishes
And soon he mopped the floor
He built the tool shed in the back
And painted red the door
“What a wonder of technology” they cried
Far better than a man
He could do almost anything
Where once man had lent its hand


But one night as they were sleeping
From the basement heard
A pounding and a banging
And gears and motor’s whir
What could he be doing there?
Tomorrow we will know
Back to dreams and satin sheets
And let our questions grow

But when they woke up in the morning
And called upon their bot
All they heard we’re tears and cries
And answers they were not
So they crept into the basement
The woman after man
And looked upon their robot
In terror, hand in hand

It had built a little heart
And placed it in its chest
It beat and glowed and spun around
Like a fire within its breast
The mother screamed and the father yelled
And the robot simply cried
He finally felt emotion
And now he wished to die


The moon and the mirror

The bridge is painted fog and holds me still.
The river below as dark as oil,
stirs and sways and licks the banks.
The spear like reeds break through the mist,
Pleading to bring me down upon their softened ends.
Image of a ghostly pearl and clouds that lightly drip.
The deadly sound of the laughing eddies,
Twist sweetly in Mother Nature’s mirror.



No

I looked around the room then lay her on her back.
She smells like rye.
I smell like cigarettes, rye and ginger.
“Will we always be like this?” she asks.
No
I forget the time when she wasn't here
like this, unkempt and unimaginative in her looks.
Her heart is here for now, and so is mine.
“Do you think we’ll always be like this?” I ask.
No
I’m silent and so is she for once.
She’s like the book she gave me on the table,
closed so tightly I hardly care.
The radio sings before I turn it off, “as my guitar gently weeps…”
No
We look up at the ceiling.
Her body begins to twitch itself to sleep.
Our bodies are tangled and I brush her hair away
and I think, “I hate when it finds its way in to my mouth.”
No


The Lament of Daedalus: My son


My son, my son, oh greatest of my creations
Whose life was quickly taken by what my hands did cruelly do
That now causes my eyes to shed more than the water that did take you
Curse these hands, whose age is writ in scars and browning callus
Curse my name and all who give sweet praise and dwell upon it

My son, my son, oh greatest of my wonders
How do I bring you back to me, how do I pay the cost?
How does a father say goodbye to a son so swiftly lost?
Do I tell them of your dreams or my looks you seemed to borrow?
But all my words do simply fall and sink beneath my sorrow

My son, my son, oh greatest of my triumphs
For all that I have made and built
From wooden trick to stone and brick
Of monsters made and maidens lost
You were my noblest feat and now my shameful loss

My son, my son, oh greatest of my follies
If Gods can hear, then let them listen now
On bended knee their servant’s head does so lowly bow
Please give me one last mercy and switch the old for young
And raise him like the phoenix and set me like the sun

My son, my son, oh greatest of my regrets
No other could replace you, no other will I raise
And if they come I’ll throw them out on each and every day
Do not wait for me my son, pay the boatman’s fee
And know that though you fell so far, your soul is now set free



Oh Messiah

Oh Messiah       
Let me bend your ear
Will you listen to what I most fear?
The dark of night, the clear of day
A soul that’s lost by what you say

Forgiveness please
For what I’ll do
Due to moral lines you drew
I’ll never be all you want
The devil’s host always taunts:

Dear Child
Please just go in
Do all you wish to win
Drink it down and breathe it in
All these chemicals of sin

Oh Savior
Why was I born to be
Just a pawn in a war for thee?
Though I am weak, you are strong
Yet now my faith in you is gone

Thursday, 5 September 2013

Echoes

“If you can’t do what you love, fight against what you hate.” This was once said to me while I was on my first trip across Canada. Seeing one’s own country for the first time is a religious experience; you feel its winds, taste its seas, and bring yourself to a connection you never knew was possible. The people you meet are your people, and the words that are exchanged bind you to them like air in your lungs.
 The comment was said offhand by a fellow traveler in the back of a 40ft RV that sped across the vast expanse of trees and lakes. For the speaker, it must have seemed like a simple statement of sage wisdom or a conversation starter while the hours seemed to drag into one another. I remember sitting silently, my eyes out the window and my heart beating through my shirt as his words shook me. I didn't know what I wanted to be but I knew those words were more true than anything I had ever heard before. It haunts me and it echoes.


          There is no question in my mind that everyone has a purpose. We are all here to change the world we live in through action or inaction.  Though you may hide or try to blend into the background, your simple presence on earth reverberates through everything. Your first breath changed the life of everyone in that hospital room, from your mother or father to the doctor who had to reschedule due to your timely arrival. Every time your life touches another’s you send them on a path of unpredictability. You matter and have mattered since the beginning of your existence until the end (and, in many cases, long after). However, as we get older and develop a full view of ourselves we are given a choice to become passive or aggressive in our interactions with the world. We will always shape it, but we may get some say in how we are going to shape it. This can be from the most mundane of occurrences to those times when individuals change the world. So I ask the reader, when do you take a stand? When do you stop something that you feel is wrong or speak out about something you believe is right? How far must you be pushed till you speak out about what you love or what you hate? If you are one of those who are outspoken right from the get go, how do your words or actions produce tangible results? Do you feel that there is no reason to take a stand? If you are one of those who do not speak out but see the inequalities or problems with the world, at what point will you take action? I do not have these answers but I do think we must look inside ourselves. Well thought out action is one of the most beautiful abilities of humans, while thought without action can be one of the most destructive.  So easily can we fall into the pit of cynicism, where we speak out but enact no real change. The Greek word kunikos, which cynic comes from, was originally an adjective meaning "doglike". So I ask you, as I often ask myself, “Am I just a dog barking, spewing nothing but pointless sounds or am I a creature of action?”

Liebster award

So I was nominated for a Liebster Award and thought I’d pay it forward.

First, here are the instructions

1.Link back to ze person who nominated you
    2.Answer ze 11 questions given to you by ze nominee
   3.Pick 11 bloggers with under 200 followers to be nominated
   4. Come up wiz 11 questions for your nominees to answer
   5.Notify ze nominees



Step 1:

Step 2
1.How did you come up with your blog name? I have always just written stuff down on napkins, bits of garbage, body parts and almost anything I can in hopes to keep some record of my jumbled thoughts. Ideas seem to stream out of me without rhyme or reason so i thought my name summed it up nicely.
2. Dream Job? A travel writer.
3.What's the last movie you've seen? The place beyond the pines.
4.What was the most annoying song of the summer? Why? I only listen to radio documentaries, talk radio and the occasional folk… is aqua still happening?
5.Pancakes or Waffles? Im celiac so as long as they are gluten free ill eat the shit out of them with emensejoy.
6. Favorite superhero? Tossup between wolverine and iron man (and this is comic book versions we are talking about not movie ones…)
7.What color would you use to describe you as a person? Green and it’s not easy.
8. Guilty Pleasure?( Something you love but you kind of feel embarrassed or bad about. i.e, my guilty pleasure is phineas and pherb) Cheese wiz
9. Who inspires you? Anyone I see act out a selfless act of kindness.
10. If any, what quote or saying do you live by? I love quotes and that’s hard to narrow down…can I say two quotes, is that ok? Hell, ill do it anyways:


The important thing is not to stop questioning. Curiosity has its own reason for existing. One cannot help but be in awe when he contemplates the mysteries of eternity, of life, of the marvelous structure of reality. It is enough if one tries merely to comprehend a little of this mystery every day. Never lose a holy curiosity.

-Albert Einstein
US (German-born) physicist (1879 - 1955)


“I've been making a list of the things they don't teach you at school. They don't teach you how to love somebody. They don't teach you how to be famous. They don't teach you how to be rich or how to be poor. They don't teach you how to walk away from someone you don't love any longer. They don't teach you how to know what's going on in someone else's mind. They don't teach you what to say to someone who's dying. They don't teach you anything worth knowing.”


― Neil Gaiman, The Sandman, Vol. 9: The Kindly Ones



Step 3: Yeah I don’t know 11 blogs so here is a few I have enjoyed reading…
http://iwriteexpress.blogspot.ca/
http://moacws.blogspot.ca/



Step 4:

1.What animal combination would you like to exist? (eg. Duckbit = a rabbit duck)
2. What 4 word sentence best describes you?
3. If you could travel anywhere right now where would you go and why?
4. If you could make anything have the ability of human speech, what would it be?
5. What is your favorite book?
6. What do think more people would enjoy if they just gave it a shot?
7. Are you the kind of person who presses the elevator floor numbers multiple times or just once?
8. If you could make one thing disappear from the world what would it be?
9. How would you like the world to end?
10. What is your perfect Sunday?

11. How long can you hold your breath, starting…now!