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.

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
Across.

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!

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.

Silence.

I am afraid.
Help.

Rest; yes.
Rest.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Something

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.

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.

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.

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 :-)

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.

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".

War

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.

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.
reflection.
echo.
no.

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.

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.

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.