One more

The Long Way There

I live so far from where I work
that they call it a commute instead of a drive
commuters like to complain
over the sound of traffic reports and car horns
that their good mileage for an SUV
and their travel mugs and their books on tape
don’t make up for the lost time
they would have wasted sleeping anyway
personally I wish the commute were longer
I leave early, before even the birds are awake
and take the long way there
because I’m the only one that knows
that God exists mostly in the morning
on empty backroads
with no headlights in my mirror

Poems

I’ve been writing poems lately. Now I’ve got more… enjoy =)

Hotel Grey

The doors never open
at the hotel grey
tenants gave up hope and
lost their way
rustle and whisper
like bats in a tomb
writhe and blister
a tragedy in every room
at the hotel grey
souls don’t ever leave
time got away
before they could grieve

Grind, Whisper

The grind and the whisper
of another night gone wrong
awake cradling my swollen fears
that moan and pull at me
like the yawning black
stretching beyond the windows
of a long vacant house
you can scream that you love me
and pound your fists into my chest
but honey that fear of God
is a stong one by any measure
and the Devil’s always smiling
telling me whatever I want to hear
whatever it is that keeps me near

Cancer

First cigarettes, then coffee
stretch like a black cat in a window
just another day in the theatre of tragedy
you made of your life
collecting sad stories like lucky pennies
found on sidewalks
you knew that I knew what you did
but I never said anything, because
what we had was sweet on the outside
and sick in the middle
like a little girl with cancer
we were just dreaming anyway
naked, silent little dreams

Morning

The birds are always up first
twittering contentedly
in the grey before the dawn
I rest my chin on the window sill
to watch as the sun rises
presenting itself to the world
in all it’s shining magnificence
bathing everything in a soft yellow light
making the morning dew twinkle gently
on all the crap in the back yard

The Man In Black

Got the idea today that I’d like to write a creepy little poem. I worked most of the morning on it. Its interesting how badly it started; no organization, widely varied number of syllables in each line, etc etc… I rewrote it like 5 times before I got the swing of it. This was new for me and I’m pretty happy with the results. Anyway, here it is:

Beneath the lamp at the end of my street
the man dressed in black smiles when we meet
I’m a fairy he says with a wicked grin
out trawlin for some of that sweet sweet sin
I can give you anything (false though it be)
as long as you surrender your soul to me
I can sing in nearly every tongue
I can dance and whisper and keep you young
because my business deals in forever
and in always and in never
when my souls start to scream (and they all scream)
I just spin for them a little dream
anything to keep them pacified
anything to keep them by my side

Updates…

Sorry everyone for the infrequent (or completely halted) updates. Life at the moment, although stilted and boring leaves very little energy left to write a blog. Its not a lack of time thats the issue, but a lack of patience or ability to put down my thoughts…

Anyway its not as if I have a ton of regular readers.

So heres a few updates:

Writing again, and resumed work on The Devil’s Due. I spent much of the morning rewriting it in third person before I realized that many of the ideas I wanted to put across didn’t work as well in third, so I scrapped that project and worked a little where I left off months ago. Got another page and a half, which is alright considering I havent thought about the story in almost 4 months. Funny how quickly those little breaks turn into a giant empty hole in your life.

Living in Aimee’s dad’s house. Thus far its pretty unpleasant. Thats not to say I don’t appreciate what he has done for us, because I absolutely do, but he is a difficult/blunt/critical man, and as it turns out I am really sensitive and tend to avoid any and all conflict and social discomfort. I’m not sure I have the capacity to deal with the tension in the house, but I also have nowhere to go so I feel like I’m living in a corner at the moment.

I have 6minutes left on my download of the movie “Puffball” which looks really messed up and totally awesome. We’ll see how it turns out. It looks like a real mindfuck, but the trailer is a little scant on the details of the actual plot, though it looks like there may be some lovecraftian stuff going on there, which is always good. Trailer here:

Breathlessly awaiting the release of “Coraline” a stop motion animation (yay!) adaptation of the book by Neil Gaiman, who I love. Despite Dakota Fanning doing the voice of Coraline (you ruined the rerelease of Totoro I hate you) it looks fantastic. Added bonus: it’ll appear in theaters in 3d! Exciting, and also means I will most likely have to see it in Boston. heres a trailer for that one:

In other Neil Gaiman related news, Neil will not answer my letters asking about the curiously named Hotel Dolphin that appears in his novel Anansi Boys (which is splendid by the way) The reason I’m so interested in the hotel is because the Hotel Dolphin is the name of the haunted hotel in Stephen King’s “1408″, as well as the mysterious hotel in both “A Wild Sheep Chase” and “Dance Dance Dance” by Haruki Murakami. I can’t help feeling that it isn’t a coincidence.

I am currently reading “The Thief of Always” by Clive Barker, and I really love it. Its one of those books written as if it were intended for a child but came out far too creepy to be read by anyone but unbalanced adults. I love those.

I am also reading a financial book by Suze Orman, per the request of Aimee’s father. Its quite informative but the section I enjoyed most thus far had to do with taking the time to get a career you enjoy and worry about making money later. I don’t think that’ll work out in my life, but it was nice to read anyway and for a brief shining moment I really believed that I can be anything I want. Then of course I remembered where I’m at in life, which is more or less unemployed, mentally unstable (and deteriorating faster than ever before, hurrah!) broke as hell and in an uncomfortable living situation where I have basically agreed to never ever spend an extra nickel on myself, and I’m fairly certain that would include college courses.
Its not like I know what I want to do anyway =(

That cat downstairs won’t stop crying and its making me crazy.

The Office and 30 Rock need to quit dickin around and air a couple new episodes already.

The Fountain soundtrack is amazing. (As is the movie and you need to see it if you plan on dying someday.)

I must be old because 2 years ago I could eat as much as I want and never gain weight. Now I can eat almost nothing and never lose an ounce.

Upon closer inspection, Tom Waits is pretty awesome and I’m glad I took the time to download the Raindogs album because its a masterpiece and I didn’t give it a fair shake in the past.

I think Vicodin should be prescribed as an antidepressant, because it hardly does anything at all. To hear someone was taking Vicodin you’d assume they’d be all loopy and retarded like they just left the dentists office or woke up from surgery, but its not liek that at all. Anyway, Vicodin and anti depressants attempt to do the same thing, don’t they? They (try to) take the pain out of life.

I need more story ideas.

My boss’ son is interesting. His name is nathan and hes maybe 9 months old now. Shawn is really fascinated by watching what new things Nathan learns to do everyday, and I can’t blame him. It really is very cool to watch a mind develop. He just learned to crawl and man that kid can move. He is also really happy all the time and rarely cries, which I imagine is rare and probably makes parenting way less difficult than it could be. I honestly don’t htink I could handle a baby crying all the time. People say its different when its your kid but I still dont see how I could ever have the mental capacity to deal with somethign in the house that is always screaming and cannot be consoled, it sounds terrible. If I had a collichy baby I think I’d lose whats left of my mind.

I don’t know what to do with my life. I like flooring but given that I havent worked in a month (except 3 days last week) I’m not sure if its something I should count on. Shawn makes 8Ok most summers and maybe 20 during the winter, which is great. Vinyl flooring specifically is also a job that requires very little money to stay supplied. All you need to buy consistantly is razorblades, tar paper, and (far less often) staples. On the downside of the job though, is that whenever the economy gets into a slump the first people to feel it are the construction guys. (Actually its probably realtors, but we’re nearly first on the chopping block at any rate.) The money is also inconsistant to a certain degree, but it only effects me now because I’m carrying the tools around for 13 bucks an hour. Shawn makes enough that it doesnt really matter if he has a slow week once in awhile.

I don’t know. Ideally I’d be doing something that I love, not something that I can tolerate just because half of the day is spent driving around and the hours go by quickly. I worry that its too late for me. I know 24 isn’t old in the long run but given the mess i’ve managed to make and the number of bridges i’ve burned, i don’t think i’ll ever be far enough out of the hole to make a change.

I guess thats it for right now. I will post The Devil’s Due after I work on it a bit.