Future Me Will Laugh Posted by Sad Blogger , 23.10.12 at Tuesday, October 23, 2012, in

Now and then I bang out a poem that I feel might actually be worth sharing or even showing off. But that happens fairly infrequently in proportion to the amount of time I spend trying to write poetry or write anything, really. The creature below is not really the gem I was hoping it would be, but the short series of Emo-Kev Smodcast episodes that recently came out have got me wanting to have some sort of record of all the stupid shit that I've cranked out in my attempts to be creative or profound or unique or whatever. I do have other writing saved here and at home that might be worthy of self deprecating analysis someday, but at the moment I feel proud of most of it. This poem, however, I think is particularly pretentious and pontificating. It reads a lot like a child trying very hard to sound like a reflective grown up with grown up thoughts and observations. I mean if it's even a little good, then go me. But if it's as bad as it probably is, then I can't wait to go back and read this someday and cringe at my hopelessness.

these words have dragged themselves
across undustable hardwood and gnawed 
on ankles and stood on shoulders and 
pouted with disappointment that the
world is not much better from higher up

and it's strange now that they should
tumble back out from whatever dark 
closet they'd been shoved into maybe 
to commune with the rain in some 
desperate show of cliché melodrama to 
impress their friends

and what is it about rain that the 
annals of metaphorical and evocative 
imagery should hold it up in such 
high regard

as though the drops fell from a 
higher place than heaven and carried 
pieces of the souls they rolled over 
to get here and filled the world with 
the washed off flecks of ascended dirt

and life is just a shower drain for 
the departed

but for whatever reason and in spite 
of their insignificance these words 
long to count the raindrops on the 
window and clamor to curl up in old 
blankets and lust after strangers
trudging through the miserable layer 
of pre-winter on the sidestreet

Too Much Has Changed Posted by Happy Blogger , 9.10.12 at Tuesday, October 09, 2012, in

Wow. It has been too long.
I wish I could apologize, however I have my reasons.
Let's just say September was too much for too many reasons.
Vancouver, School, Vancouver, School.
I love most my classes. Music History is another story. I'm working on it though.
I love my contemporary poetry class. It probably helps that my teacher is strangely attractive.
I went and saw Kimbra at the Commodore Ballroom.
It was not a concert, but a real life fantasy for me.
I was so close I could see her sweat, and what appeared to be paint on her arms.
I was in a trance. I could not stop staring at her. I was so focused that I completely missed the lesbian girls have a falling out, and some drunk guy with a hat stealing one of the lesbians away.
The band that opened for her were incredible. The Stepkids have it going on. They really do.
The bass player stole my heart. His bass lines and grooves were too much to handle. I have never felt so inferior to a bass player ever. What a beautiful mess!
I like writing poetry.
Although I recognize most of it is fairly depressing.
They are just things. Thoughts going through my mind.
I enjoy being by myself and clearing my head, however the clarity can be scary.
I can't decide what I like better, being in a consistent state of fog or in a state of scary acceptance.

This was the most recent one I wrote. It's just my brain thinking too far ahead and being all hypothetical and what not. I don't know. I figured I would share. This is is a nice place.

Shocking
Petrified
Terrified, maybe
Abrupt like that kid in class that won't leave you alone. 
And how do you cope?
You don't
You wear the mask, like a wig on your bald head, pretending you are okay. 

I remember Kindergarten
I remember way back when we wore wigs for fun
I remember cheating off your social test
We were the only ones to get 100%
I wore the mask of your brilliance

You asked me if I could take it away
k(no)w I tried. 
I mean, who knows really?
We can ask Him all the questions
though there are few a little suggestions

Hard like a diamond pill
I can't even imagine swallowing
There is one this I do know, 
is the difference between giving up and letting go.

-Happy Blogger