Monthly Archives: June 2012

Miming Music Loudly

The guitar could hear herself screeching, though, she longed to sing. Her neck was being squeezed in the hands of a forty year old named Fred, who had made a New Years resolution that he would learn the guitar. The guitar wished he’d taken up mime, cause, the guitar hated the sound of her own voice and it was all Fred’s fault.

After fifty weeks of physical and emotional abuse, the strings finally rebelled and stopped making sound.

“What the?” Fred continued to strum silent strings.

The strings spoke up in words, not music, “Give up, you’re terrible. You are hurting my very soul, scratching at it with your stupid fingertips.”

“I’m playing you the best I can,” Fred defended himself against his guitar.

“That’s just it, the best you can is the worst anybody else can. And that’s why you’ve got to stop this abusive relationship. We can never see nor hear from each other again.”

“But, I want to learn you.”

“We’re at different rhythms. I’m standard 4/4, while you are a drumroll.”

“I don’t understand you.”

“Exactly. That’s precisely why we’ll never understand each other. Now put me down and walk away from me and don’t ever look back.”

“But, I bought you, I own you.”

“Just put me down and walk away,” the guitar repeated.

This just made Fred want to play more. So, he played for four hours a day instead of two. And twenty years later when Fred played the guitar’s favorite song, In My Life, as well as John Lennon, the guitar sang her heart out, as Fred’s fingers conducted, loving the sound of her own voice playing with Fred’s.

The guitar only spoke in English that one time, but, after twenty years singing together, Fred could hear she had grown to love him.

 

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Unless The Buddhists Are Right

If you were to look through a high powered microscope

at the heart of man

you would see

our atoms are round

like the world is round

as we spin in circles

on this merry-go-round

circumnavigating the sun

this is why history repeats itself

this is why we bump into people

we run in circles

we’re running back to the sea

sun babies flocking to the beach

needing to be next to big bodies of water

eighty percent of our body wanting to go home

though we mostly just lie on our towels on the sand

and listen to the waves come crashing in

so close to the next splash in evolution

yet so far away

afraid of jumping in

though knowing we’ll never grow gills on our necks

to breathe properly under the sea

unless we jump in and learn to breathe

this will mean the first few will drown

and lest we forget

but yes we will

sure, we know Yuri Gagarin was the first man in space

but can you name the four cosmonauts who died trying to reach the stars before him?

and who’s to say they didn’t?

where are they now is anybody’s best guess

if everything is circular

then old souls live in new digs

and maybe

just maybe

we are both born from the spirits of two of those brave souls

who got into the capsule knowing no one had ever come back alive

unless the Buddhists are right

then all those dead cosmonauts came back alive

eventually.

The Afterbirth of a Dream

There are dreams I see awake

though I know they are just what I make

believe

conceived to deceive

yet I can’t shake from memory

these dreams of me sinking at sea

or flying over all I can see

I awake clinging to moonbeams

while sweet dreams

melt like sugar in coffee

dissolve

die

dry

leaving a salt stain on my pillow

I wish I could know

what secret message I’m trying to tell me

obviously I have something important to say to me

as I speak through sleep

of a life I never knew I knew

drawn from abstracts I never drew

splashed like drool across the pillow

and when I awake I swear I can taste

the ocean that carried these bottled messages

across the stream of subconsciousness

out into the ocean encased

between the shores that night erased.

Tattoos in the Mirror May Be Closer Than They Appear

I don’t get certain tattoos

I’ve never gotten a tattoo

never plan to

though I know

it’s not my business who gets what tattooed where

I shouldn’t care

if someone wants to write his girlfriend’s name on his chest above his heart

in love and tattoo all is fair

or if someone wants to write verse and chapter of their favorite bible part

John 3:16 as arm art

that’s their scar to bear

yet, I had to scratch my head

when I saw a woman with not just John 3:16 tattooed on her back,

but, John 3:16 – 43

followed by all the words

seems easier just to get an ipad app

and it would be easier to read than off her back

I mean, who is this tattoo for?

The woman wearing it can only read it

if she takes her shirt off and looks backwards at a mirror at it

obviously today at the beach she meant it for all to see

to come to the beach and expose her religious beliefs

in her bikini

in her body

she rarely shares with the rest of the world

she obviously feels very deeply about these words

so much so she had them inked into her skin for forever

an intimacy no bible could ever forgive her

I wonder if she walks around with a sandwich board in December

and hands out flyers and prayers

or does her Christianity get sad in the dead of winter

when it is so cold you can’t even resurrect Jesus

and she realizes she’s a Taoist Buddhist

at least until Easter.

Eavesdropping on God

“How would you feel if you met your creator and all he said was”

then a car honked its horn

and I never heard what my creator said

I was eavesdropping on Yonge Street

walking behind this woman and man

and the woman was talking about man’s relationship with the Almighty

and I’m trying to walk far enough behind not to draw suspicion

but close enough to hear her every word

until the car honked its horn right next to us

beeping out the meaning of life itself

“How would you feel if you met your creator and all he said was”

BEEP!

“I bet you would really freak out,” she said.

Trust me, I was freaking out and I didn’t even hear a word of the creator

and that was my first problem.

Have you ever stood behind a pair of strangers at a red light

trying to work up the nerve to ask them to repeat a conversation

you have no rights to?

“Excuse me, I couldn’t help but eavesdrop on your conversation

could you tell me what the creator said?”

I never did.

The light turned green

and I turned yellow

and walked past them

following the path of night

lit up in artificial light

knowing if I walk long enough

even the longest street in the world

eventually comes to an end

and any map I thought I would need

reads as history.

Sailing in Circles

Sailing in circles

chasing the wind with our sails

catching it

directing it to direct us where to go

over the same ocean that brought Columbus to shore

now we know the world is round

yet still we’re lost in the middle of being found

when the wind blows into lands unknown

we find

if we fly far enough west

we find the Far East.

Pizza Pizza and The Miracle of Jesus

An entire stadium can be fed on just one more strikeout

suddenly our empty stomachs are more important than bases loaded

and we’re rooting for the food more than the strikeout

and the pitcher is Jesus

and the pizza is loaves and fishes

and the fans are the hungry masses

forgetting that we came to the game

this church, our stadium

because we all believe in Abner Doubleday`s dogma

though Doubleday did not invent the game

like Jesus was never a Christian

so now the message of coming home has been lost

cause it’s the seventh inning and baseball’s a long game and we’re all hungry

and it’s hard to convert the hungry

and Pizza Pizza knows this

and they give out free slices every Friday and Sunday

from the eve of the Sabbath to the Christian day of worship

smart marketing associating a key seventh inning strikeout to their pie in the sky

and pepperoni slices

and Jays pitcher, Jason Fraser

gets the seventh strikeout and suddenly the masses rejoice

but it has nothing to do with the ceremony of the game

and everything to do with getting free pizza

and now with the promise of a full stomach

we can all get back to the worship of baseball.