Thursday, December 21, 2006

A begining (a story in the making)

His knee ached again. It always bothered him this time of year, of course, but that wasn't what troubled him, he thought. His skin was slightly irritated, especially where it used to touch hers, but that wasn't it either. It was a sunny day, as most were in these parts. Well, mostly sunny, he thought. He was sitting sprawled in the shade of Symbol's Street's Excelsior Cathedral, trying to take in a rare quiet moment. The grass here was certainly greener than his old home. In fact, almost greener, which was pretty good given the fairly steep water prices. That wasn't what bothered him either though. No, he sighed inwardly. If it were only as simple as that.
"Your grace", a voice said.
"Yes. Is it time then?" he asked.
"Yes, your grace".
"Very well. Here, help me up, would you?"
"Of course, your grace".
Damned mannered bastards, he thought. Sighing again, this time not as inwardly as he would have preferred, he allowed himself onto his feet. Grasping hold of his staff, he began his march, starting to surround the familiar water pond.
"Not today, your grace", said the voice.
"Oh? Why not?"
"After yesterday I'm afraid we've had little choice, your grace".
"Indeed. How unfortunate". He'd rather longed to stroll by that pond a bit, finding it quite soothing. An uncommon calming effect on him, he mused. The bile was only mild this morning, thank the goddess. That wasn't what troubled him either, of course. That feeling was a matter of fact by now, a constant battle to be fought without giving it too much thought, or at least to appear as such, he smiled bitterly to himself.
"Well then... lead on", he said.
The Cathedral's side gate was looming to their far right, beckoning occasionally as the sun hit the decorative signs and notes. The gate was actually leading to a separate hall linked to the cathedral, he now noticed. You can say whatever you want about the guy, he thought, but his remains have secured a rather splendid mausoleum for themselves, unlike so many others. He paused for a moment, examining the wood carvings on the door, then, swallowing a sigh, clicked the intercom button. The first few bars of "When Doves Cry" chimed, surrounding the opening entrance. "Here we go", he thought.

Thursday, November 30, 2006

It Is

It is life, coming to a screeching halt.

It is a growing sensation of numbness
That stills and readies me for what's next.

It is only deep within the nebula
That the words are liberated
And once again receive their lost meaning.

It is only my side-tracked mind,
Seizing at the opportunity to speak
That draws me near here,
Every now and anon.

It is by this pain that I feel
That I am able to navigate
These starless surroundings,
Desperate feelers ahead
Catching the void in the act.

Sunday, November 19, 2006


There are echoes between the songs
Marking my way along the causeway,
Now dusty with rustling leaves,
Now swimming in bright ecstasy
Nourishing the anemones below.

These echoes do not remind me of the past,
Like the rest of their kin;
Nay, they come from the present itself,
Hiding in the plainest sight
Of the self blind,
Marked by eerie colors that spin
Only when you wish it.
And you wish it.

They, like the consciousness within,
Hallow the wild distances of the soul,
Now clear of obstacles and remnants forsaken
And yet unforgotten in their course of familiarity
With the distant and disdained.

The echoes are melodious in more than
Any single way I can relate;
They resound the sweet hollow of the walls
Of my existence as easily as the bitterest
Freedom bell of a lost libertine.
They signify the long road's narration
And equate it with its meaning,
Spelling both desire and remorse
In their fading and their longing.

I wish I could hear it all,
The music of the echoes,
And between.

Saturday, November 11, 2006

At Lunch

Once again I am enshrouded with that white mist,
Encompassing my vision and blurring sensation
Like an evil trip, spiraling in all directions, howling, howling
For the dark moon;
I freeze, unable to think except in numbers, adding, adding just
To keep it there while it lasts.

The table grows far and the salad turns unto the happy isles next to your hand, your face.
I cannot swallow, cannot dream, cannot feel, cannot...

I am paralyzed here in this shabby light,
Crucified by your imagined glare, the steak stares back butNo,
I cannot think just yet. Adding is safe, yes. Safe.

My white shroud dissipates and I, a neonate Wight in lunch,
Descend upon my wooden throne to swallow last supper's remnants; a little stale, I sigh.

On an on I wait it out,
Not knowing where or who and when, I endure my tears and music,
Consuming myself in order to live out another day, yet I do not live in a single hour.

I crawl out of the wreckage, smiling at my lovely strange world,
Clinging to distant hopes of past deeds, once resembling the semblance of normalcy.
There I am one of the ignored. Here, there is only the void.
So who is staring back at me?

Monday, November 06, 2006

These Days

These days I am constantly angry,
My fury flows and splashes around,
Heaving its red and green tentacles
Around and around,
Amassing in great celerity
At the borders of my sanity.

My field of vision narrows
At the two butterflies
Twirling in the sun,
Forever spinning and dancing
Aloft the grass-not-greener,
Copious with yellow wasps.

Prodded by the doubled edge fork
The bile in my mouth builds
A thorny tower of disease
Not easily averted,
Nor lightly illuminated
By my moonless spurn.

These days the darkness claims me
And I cannot escape;
My chaos is making good
On its premise to deliver;
My anger flows back to its source,
That crumpled shell of me.

Monday, October 30, 2006

Undulating Field

This is a work in progress as I feel something is still missing with it, though I'm not sure what or how...

Desertion has its virtues
Upon the golden corn field
As the scarecrow backs away
Into the get away car.

Lone guardsman on the pole
Observing the yeast go down
And up and down again,
Pretending to be free.

The mindless wheat
Fulfills that which it sows
On the hard brownish land,
A stool to rest the splinter soles.

The crucified has vacated
The post no longer there;
Rot and decay dawdle
At the tall pillars of hay.

On the seasons press
And the agony recedes,
Tumbling down with the weed
Of a forsaken effigy.

Thursday, October 19, 2006

On the Bridge

I saw the future once
Walking the bridge
Above the train station,
Phased onto an alternate
Anime world of steam
And electronics.

But the future merges
With an unforgiving past
Only to give birth to an
Apathic present,
Its presence lucid in my
Vision but for its reality;
The present, I deem, is
A conjunction moving
Between us by being us,
Separating and uniting
The undivided, calling
Our names when all we
Seek is the forgetfulness
Of olden days or
The ever illusive promise
Of aftertime.

Aftermaths replenish themselves
On our lost hopes in this future,
Feeding on repercussions we
Dare not avoid and nightmares
We close our eyes against,
All in vain.

The future, you see, is
Already here, lounging
At its pleasure, sometimes
Cuddling, sometimes stinging
Our expectant souls.

What will I see when I get to the other side of the bridge?
How many full circles are there in the void?

Thursday, October 12, 2006

Let's Talk

Ok. This one is titled "Let's Talk", though I'm not too sure about the title.

To save my self
And that's not half
The matron must be told
Ere the going gets tough.

I must tell her what is known,
What is long lost and long ignored;
That which I readily fear
Yet here so anxious to reveal.

That which will save me
Will be ignored;
Of that I am sure, mostly,
If truth be told.

I must reveal it all and hide none,
Forever being the obedient son;
Alas, this deed cannot be undone
As I yet favor moon to sun.

Thursday, October 05, 2006

The City and I

I wrote this one thnkinh I may enter it into the "In the end" contest on deviantArt. The point is you have to use the given closing lines, in this case written by John Burnside.

I have been to the White City
Though it is cowled in grey;
I have strolled through its peaceful side-walks
Along no cherry lane.

Memories of serenity fill me
Though now I only long
To lose myself in Sufjan's notes;
I remember it just the same:
Young ones riding their bikes
Shouting enthusiastically
What they'll rue in an hour,
A pair of elderly women
Heatedly discussing yesterday's remorse
Telling-tolling today's gossip
And prophesying tomorrow's.

No, I don't have a cigarette,
And neither should you.

I come back,
The city lingering at the doorway
Pausing shyly at the out of place
Refrigerator in the hallway. Finally,
It entered, bringing some grey
And sand and smog and life
Into my room.

Our time together now spent,
Now passing onto new heights
And lows I cannot fathom;
The city still speaks to me
Her voice half heard as something overhead
-- A splash of white against the wavering sky --
Drones through the clouds, mechanical, bereft.

Monday, October 02, 2006

Wondering during Atonement Day or Writer's Block III

So I walked softly
Through the sinful city,
Now silent for the
Agreed upon duration;
Hoping to find inspiration at its mer
I could only find there myself.

The sand is soft and white;
It graters at my skin
Trying desperately to find
A more suitable position.
That salty smell of froth and starfish
Evokes a longing I cannot accurately recall.
Instead, I’m filled with the usual trepidations
Of being.

The sea does not seem a worthy cure for my woes,
Or, perhaps, I am not worthy of the sea.
In here I feel like a second grain, or perhaps a fourth,
Just like in real life.
The sea cannot save me;
Perhaps the rain can.

Afterimage -
The roll of the waves
And its vast thunder
Shall remain with me
Even ere I am torn asunder.

Friday, September 29, 2006

General Update

So, I've noticed it's been quite a while since I've last written something here (that isn't a poem) and I think it's time for an update. Besides, I'm sort of experiencing a creative crisis, among other things, so I'm not sure when the next poem will find its way into this world.

Why a crisis? In a way I think it's also a symbol for what's going on with my life right now, namely nothing. No that that's new or anything, it's just bugs me more than usual, I guess. Take work for example (if this was a movie you'd have a fade and a cross to my work area :-) ). Work is much more chaotic in some ways than I thought it would be. Despite my lack of experience in this field, I cannot ignore my own sensations, instincts and past memories (mostly from my time at the Navy, something I may have under-appreciated at the time).

In short, there are no ordered, coherent, announced and generally accepted work flows and habits that I'm aware of (and more importantly, it seems my immediate boss is also in the dark). As for this guy, while a really nice man and a technical genius, I can't help but feel his managerial skills needs improvement. Of course, his recent confession to me (in a rather awkward conversation on my part and heated on his) that he wishes to quit, did not improve my general mood or desire to stay. I do feel anxious about the future of the company and even started to skim through some wanted ads but I think it's premature.

These events and feelings, which I barely hinted on these past paragraphs, do not improve my mood and motivation at work, and in general. I do have friends there though, and that make a world of difference for me.

I know my writing here isn't all that clear and organized but I do feel rather tired now. I do hope to write something soon; a poem, a story, anything. I really need to. I feel large parts of me are already dying and some have died through recent years. But I must try, while I can.

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Writer's Block II

Working long hours has its toll... :-)

I try to write;
I am numb and my mind
Is filled with empty metaphors
Unable to withstand their own
Weight, exploding and
Imploding interchangeably
By the bubbles of void.

Interrupted, I turn angrily
Towards myself, pausing only
To catch a passing glance
At the undying monitor

The blinking lights
Seem to form a pattern
Hiding unknown mysteries,
No doubt. And yet,
I cannot wonder why
I felt this way before.

At least I have Wes here,
Live. The jazz fills the air,
Healing the stubborn bugs
Plaguing my soul, if only
For a little while. Play!

Friday, September 15, 2006

Writer's Block I

Just scribbled it. Very tired now. Had an awful night and I can't get rid of this smell of cigarettes. Vile things :-( Anyway, here it is...

So I looked at it amazed,
Wondering at what had just
Passed down before my eyes,
Trying to ignore the smell of cigarettes.

The music is loud
But even that cannot deafen my silence.
I look at it amazed and quiet.

The empty spaces between the lines
Are filled with poetic grains of sand
I longer know will come or bring
Or... I don't know anymore.

I am scared. Saying that
Will surely make it go away? Silence!
I am confused, my head hurts
At the broken lines, bleeding
Uneven sentences and paragraphs
That wish they knew better days, better languages,
Better dirty computer screens to be displayed upon helplessly
Like unwanted slaves in a roman market buried just over there,
The other neighborhood; yes, past those tracks.

I am amazed, somehow, still. My head hurts. No.


I am afraid.

Rest; yes.

Monday, September 11, 2006

The Watcher

The tower hovering outside my window
Is not a reflection of my soul;
I must accept that.
Neither are the leafy shards
On the pavement across the street.

Instead, I reflect upon song
And psalm;
The rich and the richer,
The poor and the poorer,
Each man to himself.

But my soul is not there.
My dove does not dwell on
Such things;
It hovers, crossing barriers
Existing and non-existing alike
That divide us and penetrate us.

My soul is hidden; yet it is
Right there. I often
Wonder about such things,
Watching, reflecting on that
Tower over there, its windows
Mirroring my scant humanity.

Thursday, September 07, 2006

At the Mall

Formless winds are rushing towards my death;
I fly upwards effortlessly on the conduits
Lost in regions and depths of minuscule importance
The chasm is deep within this one

The sights confuse me;
I lie baffled on the floor of my mind
Clad in second rate loin cloth
That had to be mine

The mannequins stare at me all too keenly;
The stage is set but I no longer occupy it.
Instead, I yearn to kneel and pray
At the chapel of the moving staircase.

The exit hole is well marked;
It's right next to the bubble gum stands
And lottery tickets and news magazines
And friendly odd salespersons and brown bags.

I fumble for keys deep in my pockets;
The cart crashes past me and the neon flares
As darkness consumes me and I remember
I forgot to buy my chocolate bar.

Monday, September 04, 2006

Cold July

My echoes reminisce on distant droplets seas,
Spies return from yet a mission;
Cowled in albatross and grey,
The emissaries find their target.

Fleeting shadows mark their position,
Hastening, halting, calculating;
Muscles flow and following through
Like an endless Zeno's paradox.

The blood fills my gaps,
Falling, falling, losing warmth;
Low now, pain is but a memory
Of a surprise neither warranted, nor guaranteed.

They walk away now, briskly;
I slump against the marble crimson notch.
Shadows pass before my eyes
And all for ye, Brutus;
Veni, Vidi, Vici, Abeo.

Thursday, August 31, 2006

Day at the office

A steely gaze
Of deep cobalt blue
Reflected far
Across the window
Next building
Or next door.

I stare,
Somewhat teary-eyed
At the dust
Covering the silent monitor
Lounging next to me
Atop this table.

This does not go well,
I think;
I enter the ever falling
Ever flowing state
My mind is so akin to,
So reluctant.

Another song, my player,
Another line of code;
Another minute squandered
Under the Legionella covered air vent
I pray will open and resuscitate us
And then we go home.

Monday, August 28, 2006


Something about the here and now
That aches and screams
In melodious silence;
Something that tears at your heart
Like the daily chicken liver.

Something you've missed,
Something you long for;
Something untold in less
Than perfect tact on the
Soccer field.

You try.
You fail.

There's something else,
You realize.
Something beyond,
Something within;
Something left out.

You finally answer
The uncalled for question
That looms all around:
Yes, it is I.

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

New poem

Hi, here's something I wrote today (slow day at work so far... :-) )

The Golden Dragon

The golden dragon laid an egg
then left it unafraid.
a warm nest in which to keep
the baby giant there to sleep.

the golden dragon broke the skin
the egg was shattered, broken at the hinge.
a child play born,
bouquet of golden flowers was adorned.

the golden dragon drew its breath
the world he sought high from its cleft.
young and dashing and ablaze
to smite all evil was the phrase.

the golden dragon counts its days
counts and mourns while she's away.
bringing food to the nurslings
atop the ever familiar landscapes.

the golden dragon turneth sage
its youngling gone and he's with age.
its treasure he values beyond count
she is there with him under the mount.

the golden dragon has its horde
in gold and jewels and goddess know
let us slay the wanting monster
crack it open like a lobster.
we, men, know best
and to hell with all the rest.

A golden dragon was there once
the legends say and prance
but now the glory lies aground
beneath our charcoaled town.

I could not resist and nod sadly
hovering above the chasm.

Monday, August 14, 2006

New Piece

Hi, wrote this ditzy one today...

Ho, little talons,
How you rapture my soul.
You purr on my bed,
Cry at my pillow.
We share our lunch
And our supper,
Eating in our newly
Painted kitchen.

O, whisky talons,
How you capture me whole.
Without you I'm dead,
And the curtains will billow.
How can I threaten to punch
The Persian flapper?
Mewing oh so fully
Yet barely reaching.

Lo, tiny talons,
I bleed again and I'm sore.
You make me so mad,
Deflecting my mirror.
My iPod and such
Will not compare to your dapper.
Just trying to pet you, truly!
I remain alone and itching.

Friday, August 04, 2006

Not so amusing anymore

Ok, well, I certainly didn't expect this on my weekend... Another siren and this we could actually hear the rockets falling not so far from us. Still trying to take it easy, as much as I can.

War Sucks

Well, I've just experienced my first siren of this little war... I went to my parents up north for the weekend and though they are fairly far from the front lines, there it was... We're ok and it doesn't look like any of the rockets fell near but it's still a most disturbing sensation...
We'll be alright :-)

Thursday, August 03, 2006

The In Between

And so, things are a bit slow at work right now and I'm continuing my recovery from the whole war minor stress thing (recognizing, once again, that there some people who are way worse off than men). In fact, it's so slow I've had time to discover and enjoy some comics! So here it is, my recommendation of the day: The Order of the Stick. Although it will probably be more understood by role playing games people (such as AD&D), I'm sure a lot more people can enjoy the smart and funny plot and characters. I've added a link in the links area so check it out.

Monday, July 17, 2006

So here, in between wailing sirens and falling rockets, is another musical recommendation: I Am Kloot. Check them out, especially "The Same Deep Water As Me", one of the most beautiful and haunting songs I've heard in recent years. Here's their song, "Proof".

Thursday, July 13, 2006


So it's war again, is it? "All that running around, shooting at each other". What do I feel about it? What do I think about it? There's definitely anxiety, but that's nothing special. It is perhaps a bit more directed, more concrete, more real somehow,
even though we're more than enough miles away. I guess it's not just the distance factor that weighs in. It's also concern for others well-being and safety. Strange that it should come after the initial anxiety, though I suspect it's all mixed together.
There's also a great desire to be somewhere far away from here. This feeling isn't rooted in fear; its origin is in disdain, frustration and getting sick and tired of the situation. There's also anger, multiplied and enhanced, again, by frustration and fear against the enemy. This enemy has a face, unlike many others, and it also seem most deserving of our hate.
When does terror become war? Where do you draw the line? Who draws the line for you? I loath every aspect of this conflict. War is hell, even when it is necessary.

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

Not too sure about this one

where as to live
quiet in the moonlight
walking under trees
gasping for air
joyous in the grass
forsaken in the sun
creeping silently
moving to the edge
consciousness a blur
disco king inferno
quietly, quietly
dragonfly on the lily
water and pond.

Tuesday, July 04, 2006

Something New

It's been a long while, too long a while and I've gotten a bit rusty, but I wrote something yesterday and it's dedicated to you, H. :

and there was this girl,
you see,
with a light green sweather
and deep grey eyes
and a smile.
a smile.

I remember the chocolate
bitter in our mouths
next to an unsung kiss.
her hand waving on the bus.
on the bus.

and eons gone by
the forests recede;
with the love that had died
came all I had feared.

consequences flee;
my reason is shattered
by the deep grey
of her eyes.
of her eyes.

Monday, June 26, 2006

Quick Update

Hi, this is basically just a quick update to keep this place alive. Sorry about this...
My new job gets me very busy for long hours and it promises to gets even busier over the next few months. I am still learning a lot everyday, both on the professional-technical side as well as on the more social-'how to act in a high tech company' side. I am tired most of the time but at least I don't have that horrible feeling I've had during my temp job days of "how am I going to make it this month". It's sad to say but financial security (and I'm not paid millions if that's what you think and it's Not just the money thing) has a lot of bearing on my mood. I can't say I'm happy; in fact, I suspect this period of adjustments is causing quite a bit of stress and tension which I definitely feel (see next paragraph for details) but I hope that will diminish in time.

As long promised, I have a sort of a musical review. I went last week to an acoustic concert of Amit Erez in the Roots pub and it was sensational. I told you I'm not much of a music critic but I definitely loved it. This is the second time I went to one of his concerts and this one was very intimate as it was a very small pub and Amit played and sang just 3 feet from us. It's amazing to see how far he's come from his CD in 2003 ("Wish I Could Make it a Story", which was good) to this performance and onwards. The only thing clouding it was how I felt, which was not all that well, and I suspect it had quite a lot to do with stress (some work related, not all). So anyway, Amit, if you happen to read this, I'm sorry if I had a sour face on, it was all me. In fact, the music helped me feel better. So there you go, a recommendation.

Anyway, that's really all for now.

Thursday, June 01, 2006

Third Picture

A Ground Squirrel in Canada. Taken on June/July 2005 by Sam.

First Week, sort of

Yes, well... That was my first week at the new job. What do I mean by 'sort of'? So far I've only just began to study the systems and applications I'm supposed to work with and it seems it's going to take a while. Having no actual background at this (and trust me, a mostly theoretical course doesn't qualify as a worthy background) it's hard to actually begin the work. So I sit and study and explore around when I can. I ask questions when it's seems pertinent and try not to harass my co-workers too much (cause they're gonna have to tolerate me from here on). I do have hopes but until I get some sort of a basic understanding of things and systems, my confidence and my actual activity seems to me painfully limited. I know I should be patient and I try to be. I do.

On the upside of things, I love the feeling of studying and trying to figure out stuff, even on my own (perhaps especially on my own? Another challenge?) It feels like my brain is waking up from some long slumber. I get headaches sometimes, but they're sort of 'good' headaches. Know what I mean?

Also on the new job subject, I had to give someone at work some basic and interesting details on me and my life for the company newsletter (as one of the new employees). What fun. Anyway, my point is that it didn't seem like I had all that much to say and that's kinda sad I think. There were things I didn't want to divulge of course (no need to un-shroud my mystery on day one...) but still - self improvement, self realization or however you want to call it is very much needed.

Another change this week, today in fact, was that I've put my picture on my new MySpace page. I have ahem... Issues what my pictures and without getting too much into it (unless someone asks me) let's just say it was an important milestone for me. Yay.

Saturday, May 27, 2006

A Second Picture

Another picture from my trip to Canada: Lake McLeese in early June 2005.

Friday, May 26, 2006

A New Beginning

It is time. Well, almost time. My new job starts this Sunday and I'm quite excited about it. I can't help but wonder if I'm ready for it, if I'm as prepared as I can be. Probably not, but you can't be prepared for everything, I suppose. I've been trying to review some of the course material in hope it might jog something in my memory so my first day won't be a complete embarrassment but I've also had some trouble concentrating so the result aren't perfects (that's old news; would you like to listen to my voice, splintered with emotion... err. Got carried away there for a moment).

Anyway, I hope to get into a new (and improved) routine as soon as possible and get on with my life. On a side note, I would also like to find my passport which has gone missing somehow and although I'm not planning any trip in the foreseeable future, I do want to know where it is. Any ideas where to look?

I've recently opened a page on MySpace which seems like a really nice place with lots of interesting people. It could turn interesting...

Oh, and there was also saying goodbye this week as I've finally left my old job. The people there are great, warm and kind people and saying goodbye was a hard and emotional moment. I know there are nice people in the new place but I don't think it will be quite the same.
It's going to take a while to adjust, on many levels it would seem.

Tuesday, May 16, 2006

First of many

As promised long ago and as a paraphrase on Jon Stewart's "The Daily Show", here it is, your moment of happiness (around midnight in June 2005, near Dawson City, Canada).

Guess Who's Back?

Yes. I know it has been an incredibly long time since my last update. I also know, however, that no one has really bothered to read the damn blog, so really, no real harm. :-)

I do have some updates at last, some of them could actually be significant. First of all, I've finally got a new job I'm expected to begin later this month. It's in the QA field so I'm actually supposed to work in my new vocation for the first time. The pay isn't great but it's better than what I have now. The important thing is that if I actually like the job and do well in it, I can begin receiving some very much needed experience, which would improve my salary and lead the way to further advancement (that's in about two years time or so).

Saying goodbye to the people in my current job would be sad, as they are my friends. It is the right thing for me to do though, at least in principal (I mean the moving on step). Making friends and finding myself in the new job will not be very easy for me either, as I come from a place of disadvantage (no real experience at the job). In theory this can be turned into an advantage and used as a way to make friends (and the people there do seem nice), but I have my doubts. I always do.

Of course, what I didn't mention about the job was that it wasn't my first choice. At the time I had two job offers and this one wasn't the favorite. However, since this one pressured me into giving them an answer and while the other one lingers (still!) and doesn't give me their final answer, I had to place my bet and go with what's real and what's there over what might be. Thus far, before I even started to work, I think I've made the right decision. The more time passes and the more the other company lingers in its response I have a feeling their answer will be a "No" (even though I've passed their work-related interview). It has come to that that I'm in a place where I must move on, quit my job and move to the next one. The situation isn't optimal. It rarely is. But it is Real. Real life. Why do I keep on looking for real life situations?

Anyway, that's enough for now.

P.S - I feel the main theme of the post is about "real" and "actual". While this could suggest a sense of compromise and coming to terms with the choice I've made, I can't help but wonder at the price of this choice or how happy and at peace I 'actually' am with it...

Thursday, March 23, 2006

Just another day

Well, how can I summarize today? How can I summarize any paricular day?
School was fine, pretty much as usual. I am finding it a bit difficult lately to stay awake through some parts of it, especially after lunch, but overall I think I'm getting the jist of things. At least I hope so. SQL is... not sure what the right word to describe it. Perhaps that's the problem. It's similar in some aspects to certain scripts I've become familiar with during the course, but I have a feeling "I ain't seen nothing yet".

Then, waiting to the train back to work (oh yeah, no rest for me), a sudden gust of wind blew away 3 of my CVs on the tracks, where I could not retreive them (so I'm expecting some very interesting phone calls and e-mails). That wasn't very nice. On the upper-side of things, I hope, I have two job interviews scheduled for next week. Yay.

I still intend to write and publish my musical reviews, as well as put some pictures, but that would have to wait for the weekend.


Thursday, March 16, 2006

Finding a new and better Name (or reference) for God

Oh yeah. The headline is pretty presumptuous. I admit, I'm quite tired writing this but I have a feeling that if I don't force myself to sit and write what I've been thinking about now and then in the past few days or more, it may never happen. And I can refer you to one of my earlier posts about the elusiveness of inspiration and so on. Regardless, I thought it was nigh time to raise the discussion level here up a notch (that is, to actually try to start a discussion).

I would like to clarify that I don't mean to offend anyone of any creed and religion with this post. I'm merely trying to do something many of the religious people of the world are trying to do - get close to God.

Anyway, I shall begin by explaining myself. I am not a religious person; in fact, I'm agnostic. Being agnostic however, puts me in a fairly good position to continually debate (usually with myself) on the topic/concept of God. For argument's sake, in this post I'll refer to the Monotheistic God, the one many of use are supposedly familiar with. Also, I don't intend to deal here with the question of the existence of God or the nature of God. So, who or what is God? What are the correct or proper questions we should ask ourselves about God? Are there any wrong questions to ask about God? I've decided to concentrate in this instance on something rather mundane (supposedly) like God's name or reference (meaning, how we refer to God in our language).

So, how do we refer to God? What is God's name? Can God even have a name (such as we can actually relate to)? Well, whether God is a 'mere' philosophical super-entity or the God we're familiar with in the various religions, how do we relate to God in thought or prayer? You may notice I don't refer to God by 'he' or 'him' (or 'she' or 'her' for that matter) as I don't really believe God has anything to do with these natural, human properties. For similar reasons, I don't think the term 'it' is fitting either (nor 'they' and so on). In fact, I don't think there is a fitting and proper term or reference for God in any language I'm familiar with, and not only because of poor vocabulary or lack of philosophical and theological clarity, but because of a conjunction of at least these two factors and additional historical and cultural reasons.

What of God then? Can't we call God by the many names that were coined through out the centuries? Many of them, according to the wonderful Wikipedia ( have originated in earlier religions or customs and do not fit today to describe the God we are "familiar" with. For example, the name "El" which means in Hebrew "God" is in fact a name of an old Canaanite god (a rather shocking revelation for me, but understandable given where and when the roots of Judaism come from). Another example is the word "God" itself, which as far as I understand it come from old Germanic from some sacrificial context. In Arabic, similarly to Hebrew, the name of god comes from an old local god from before the Jaheliya ("The time of ignorance", before the coming of the Prophet). Clearly, in my mind, these names do not fit my "image" of God (who/which/don't know what doesn't really have/has an image, sort of... You see what I mean about getting a new and proper reference term?).

I'm not looking for God's first or last names (rather ridiculous notion when you stop to think about it). I'm trying to understand. One of the ways humans try to understand things is to give them names. I claim the current names and reference terms for God are poor and inadequate and a new, clear of any past use and context names and reference terms are needed. Something which will unite rather than divide, something people can relate to, no matter how religious. So I'm opening up the stage to you, my wondrous readers. Help me with this task. Let's make something new and meaningful together. Help me find a new name for God.

Thursday, March 09, 2006

Still on this week

This isn't the post I had in mind earlier this week but I've been struggling with a rather nasty cold most of the week so this would have to do for now. I've decided to begin writing my promised reviews (next week). Still no results on either of my tests. Still no change in my mad routine of work-school-work-school-work, other than the continuing increase in the recognition I'd better find some "normal" job soon. The people there are nice, and I would miss them, but I do have to think of myself as well.

Anyway, my muse seem to have drifted on for greener pastures (and would hopefully bring new life to the on going election propaganda) so I'd better sign off for now.

Sunday, March 05, 2006

Umm.. Hello again

Well, I guess I really ought to stop using the child analogy on this poor blog. Otherwise, I may risk charges of child negligence and abuse. Yes, it has been far to long since my last post. All I can say is that I've been (and still am) incredibly busy and unbelievably tired to invest my creative energies here. I know; that was probably a mistake as investing in creation usually brings a positive yield and added strength overall. But still, my excuses remain.

Anyway, so what have I been doing all that time? Hmm.. Let me see. First there was the C# test (still no result on that one), then the Unix test (no result, probably passed but who knows) and then the usual in between of job, school, job, school, job, school and yes - job.. I mean supper and bed. I know it's not a very healthy life I lead on many levels (mostly physically and spiritually) but I do have to remind myself that it's only a temporary thing. Oh, and how many months will pass before I change that status?

I promised you guys, O wondrous group of readers, that I'd add a few reviews in my posts, especially in the field of music. Do you know if I need the artist's permission to put their picture and details on? I'm just not sure what the copyright laws are around here. Regardless, I'll try to write something later this (yeah, This) week.
That's it for now (computer at work sucks, big time).

Friday, February 10, 2006

A Quick Update

Well, it seems my baby blog is on a diet... I've been meaning to post this week but just didn't quite get around to it. I have a test in C# next week so I'm dedicating this weekend for studies. This means, of course, mostly surfing and or playing on my computer, but I do hope to dedicate some of the time for school. By the way, I do realize I still haven't told you, my dear imaginary (?) audience, anything about myself, but I plan that to change. Honest. Starting from my next post, of course. :-)

Anyway, aside from that, I also plan to add a few of my recommendation
s in various topics (most noticeably music, it would seem), but that would have to wait till next week (or until I decide otherwise...).
That's it for now.

Sunday, February 05, 2006

Hail the newborn

It occurred to me that this blog seems to be rather "heavy", though but a fledgling Internet creation, barely making its way in the tangled web. As this is but the beginning, and there doesn't seem to be many readers I haven't quite found the right attitude to deal with it. I mean, what do I want to do with this space?

I suppose I should have thought about that earlier, or at least could have though about it, but if we compare it to life for a moment (getting heavy again), a child born into this life has no master plans or designs what to do with her life. She may develop these things later (only to abandon them again for something else and so on), but at the beginning there are no expectations except the very basic ones: sustenance and safety. Let us get back to the screaming, wailing blog here, fresh from birth or perhaps merely at its last stages. It still doesn't know whether it shall survive the week (nor do I).

Hmm... I think I may have made a rather critical analogy between a blog (or a creation per se) to a newborn, forcing or thrusting me into the responsibility as its caretaker. Kinda scary for a moment. Anyway, I do hope to meet this responsibility with honor. p.s - In regards to safety, I do trust Blogger.Com to assist me there. As far as food for thought and feeling (ergo creation) that is up to me. Where do I get this kind of baby food? I don't remember any ads about it...

Funny, but it reminds me of a piece in Richard Bach's "One" (which I haven't read in quite a few years) where he wonders why all (or at least a seemingly significant portion) of our original, creative ideas tend to come to us when we don't have a pen or a paper handy (and for me, the right inclination to actually sit myself at the computer). I actually don't remember how he solved the problem in his book (I remember it involved a fairy or something of the sort), but I certainly hope to get past it (or at least get a pen and a piece of paper handy at all times).
Anyway, I blogged enough for now...

Saturday, February 04, 2006

you guessed it... only this time, a riddle of a sort.

The rainbow forms the prism,
Stellar light is clear.
Arches form a path into gloom,
The mystery still dwell.
Among them is he,
Apart in all but blood;
Between beloved and the lock it lurks
Or was it a paper bag?

And yet...

O ancient who hath forgotten
That which you never knew;
O traveler, will thou rest tonight?
To sleep unforeseen, to escape
The missing chasers.
What have you wrought upon us,
in blood spoiled,
a bird to call root;
The scroll to guide in light.

And yet...

All the lines are converging
Upon a heap of sand;
From seven and seven
is one.
In truth lies its doom
as is its victory.
For one is all done;
one is two,
one is past,
one is now.

And yet...

And at the end,
a question yet lingers:
Beyond such shadows of the past,
Across the mists of future,
of importance to him, it seems
for reason still unclear;
One more puzzle,
quaint and wrapped in corners-
Who Am I?

and yet, another

Though darker times may wax and wane
Though falter on we may proceed
As yet out travel may be worn
Unto deep skies and thunderous wells
It leaves little to escape

And through the years of tenderness
We miss those that followed
Illicit in their own path
Though unaware, it seems, of other things
Other nights gone by, whole moons vanished

We lament it not
For though it seems wasted
And in anger and wrath drowned
Forever shall it lend its light upon our brows

And though the road is long or short
And though our breath is hard to come
Our vision remains clear of what was
And what is and what's to come

For not in vain our life was spent
Though it seems alike often
A purpose must we find and this endure
To let our fate cross our stars

kind of a silly one but what the hell...

Two Lost Poems

Two poems I’ve lost today
Though they didn’t fall out of my pocket
Completely gone and vanished have they
And I dare not mock it

Song of creation and loss
Song of magic and waste
Though unfinished and not yet glossed
I can’t help but try and capture their taste

Gone are they and the screen is dark
A mere hard drive without access
Prevents my becoming a lark
And here experience this duress

I hope I shall find them anew
Though different their scent may be
Of my own they’ll be and that’ll do
At least as far as I can see.

and another

The Raven's Flight

Atop a sidewalk in our fair
City, the box awaits
The black messenger;
Across the violent flux
The trees hasten their
Flee for freedom.

The waiting bridge holds for
A four wheel drive
Vehicle to send the word
Needed to hear of our
Love. But lo!

My lover's gone in
The sands of our tent,
The Pier stand empty
In unison of our hearts.

The darkness fast ascending,
All hope is yet but gone.
To find it now will take tomorrow
Lest the dream be discarded today.

Her business’ lot is forfeit,
The cradle never filled;
A longing for a memory may
Yet be reached.

For a choice was made
Long ago. Light or
Darkness was the set
And not in white it is
Now bathed.

Noah’s own a seed has planted
Where it took its mighty roots;
For the darken crow is not an emissary,
In pandemonium yet the dove flies..

Another poem

Stellar light persists
Atop the fallen heads
Of rolled heroes long
Lost in attire.

Garments wrought in steel,
Flow like Icaean marble
On the floor;
O, to dream their hour
On the plains and
There to sigh:
“The Kings are dead” and, lo,
the meadow’s sad.

So sad.

Even handed in their
Smite, and not too
Hasty to entomb the
Shirts and golden lace
Of the throne room
Were they. Alas,
The banquet hall
Lies crumpled.

And you; where
Is my golden haired
Mistress of the night?
Will the ages mock my fall
For reasons of the
Spoil or mere
The grief of loss and
Love and joy?

So sad.

A poem I wrote

Where do we go when we’re wrong?

I always thought it was just across the bend,
Behind the tree stump,
Along the burnt cars pile,
Under the collapsed
Bridge and over the blood filled ditch.

Perhaps, they sigh, it was never that far
From us. Perhaps, they think, if we just
Turn and blink our eyes fast
Enough we’ll see it and squint it
Out. Perhaps, they say, we could
Listen to it, especially in those long dark
Afternoon hours of the empty summer.


I dwell there still, awaiting
Their arrival.

As promised, something I wrote

The following is a portion of a short story I wrote a while back, which I certainly hope to get back to and finish someday.

Let me tell you about one of the days I was serving as a druid in my forest. On that particular forest there was a small grove of big old oak trees. Though old, the trees were large and massive, their trunks wide and their leaves green.
On that day, I was strolling through the sacred grove, consecrated to the Leaf-Lord, admiring the ancient plants. A wind was blowing through the tree tops, almost whispering half muttered words to me. I wondered what it meant - for surely it was a portent of the Great Spirits of the grove. Then, a mosquito bit my arm, causing it to itch and scratch. "Ahh", I thought. "The Spirits try to warn me of this insect - though a part of the grove and nature, it has its harmful side". And the winds blew on.
A little dizzy from the afternoon sun, I looked for the small brook I knew was streaming near by. "Left or Right of this tree?", I wondered. And the winds blew on.
Stumbling, I suddenly came upon the stream, easing the itch. "Ahh", I though. "The Spirits guided me to this brook to relieve my pain and thirst". And the winds blew on.
I looked upon the small stream and saw that on either bank were various animals and local beasts. Beside me were a great Mother-Bear and her twin cubs, while on the other side licked a red fox. "Ahh", I thought, "The Spirits wanted me to marvel at this natural harmony, to feel at ease in my grove". And the winds blew on. Just then, bandits and poachers appeared, firing angry arrows at the bears and myself, as I came to their aid. One of the cubs lay dead, while the other and I were injured. "Ahh", I thought. "The Spirits wanted me to intercede on the Bears' behalf, while showing me the courage of the Mother-Bear and how precious life is". And the winds blew on.
My dizziness grew worse as the day lengthened and I realized that the arrow which struck me was poisoned. As I lay there dying I thought "Ahh, the Spirits have seen my actions as care-taker of this grove. I am now truly a part of it". I died there, my body slowly decomposing into the grove's sacred earth. And the winds blew on and on and on....

First Entry

Well... Hello there. Don't be shy.
This is my first attempt at Blogging, in case you (who ever you may be) haven't noticed so you'll have to forgive certain things (such as constantly apologizing and using quite a lot of parenthesis). Anyway, I don't quite know at this point what precisely I want to do with er.. place(space?) but I do have some ideas.
As a first entry it would do for now, at least until my lunch is out of the oven.
P.S - I'm attaching a few things I've written earlier (much earlier) so, enjoy yourselves.

(Waiting for an idea of a cool sounding signature)