Valentine's Day

It doesn't get sadder than this. I don't mean Oprah Winfrey, Movie of the Week, boohoo sad; I mean 45 yr old, comb over, ferrari, gold chain sad.

I was in a relationship that was well and truly over. And like most of us when relationships are over, I wanted to be the one who called it off first. But I wasn't. I wasn't because she did it on Valentine's Day. And who could see that coming?! So I wrote her this song. I recorded it to tape and I played her that tape. She loved the song, and left anyway :)

I'm glad, because I met my true soul mate the next year. I'm also glad I still have this song; because I kind of like it. One day, if I ever get brave, I will mp3 that tape and upload it here. That's a threat, not a promise.

Valentine

Friday night, February 14th,
Just another day to you.
I'd bet everything, that you're not even,
Thinking about me right now.
As if to say, as if to say to me,
Hey babe, you're so right.
You're just so right babe,
You come to me and say,
You say you're leaving me.
What am I supposed to say?

High school sweethearts,
Soul mates, friends for life,
Call it what you will.
But it must have been something,
And it must have meant something,
You know it must have meant something to you.
Now you say you're leaving,
You say you're leaving,
You want to walk away.
What am I supposed to say?

Not enough to give you,
Not enough to tell you,
Not enough to make you change your mind,
Enough to stay.
What am I supposed to say?

I hope you change your mind.
I hope you change your mind.
I hope you change your mind and stay,
Happy Valentine's Day.
Happy Valentine's Day.
Happy Valentine's
Happy Valentine's Day

If there're any guitarists out there, this is just a simple 2 chord progression between G9 and C9 over and over. Hey, I had limited time to come up with the melody alright? :)

Circles Of You

History dictates that we’ll meet again you and I,

When one of us is brave enough to swallow their pride.

Will you still be who you were before you left me,

Still have that smile that smacks of devilish naivite?

Don’t you ever get frightened that the circles might end,

That one day we’ll be so far apart there’ll be no getting back?

Me, I’m more afraid that you’ll change beyond recognition,

So that even if you do make your way home again, I won’t know you,

And I’ll walk right by you, wondering what you’re doing with yourself these days.

Little Brown Triangle Shaped Perfect Moments

I spoke to my cousin (and co-writer of (sic)bunnie) tonight about cola-flavoured Freezas and it has prompted this post.

This is a poem I submitted to Xpress during the governments promotion of young (under 25) writers. It had a name (the promotion) and an ad campaign, but it escapes me. It was all about giving a "voice" to disenfranchised youth.

Anyway, the poem was published in Xpress and I sent a cut out copy of it to Peters confectioners in a bid to get them to make the sickly brown manna again. 3 or 4 years later they actually did.

Cola Freezas

Trashy pop culture never hurt anyone,
It’s all that there is when your life is undone,
When you’re sitting there waiting for a savior to come,
‘Cause somebody has taken out Jesus
You can sell all your dreams, take the money and run,
But they’ll never bring back Cola Freezas.

Saturday cartoons, The Six Million Dollar Man,
And that Scooby Doo aint no flash in the pan,
Well we can’t find a hero so we take who we can,
When depression’s clammy hand seizes,
We remember with fondness Luke, Leia and Han,
But they’ll never bring back Cola Freezas.

Yesterday our freedom was all that we got,
And our friends would stick by us like it or not,
The Earth that we lived on wasn’t so God damn hot,
And it didn’t take too much to please us.
We smiled so much more out of joy for our lot,
But they’ll never bring back Cola Freezas

Now we’re grown up and the rules have all changed,
And we find all those rules are a little too strange,
The life that we’re leading has been pre-arranged,
And the Government is trying to lead us,
We’ve got everything to lose and nothing to gain,
But they’ll never bring back Cola Freezas.

Think if you will back to nineteen eighty four,
And the songs that you loved but don’t hear anymore,
If you can’t see inside let me open the door,
Let me put back all of the pieces,
I can take you back through all the years lived before,
But they’ll never bring back Cola Freezas.

I Don’t Like Mondays by the Boomtown Rats,
And The Safety Dance by Men Without Hats,
And what about Breakdance let’s not forget that,
Though it didn’t take too long to leave us,
We danced roller skating to songs like Wham Rap
But they’ll never bring back Cola Freezas.

So if you’re messed up and a Slacker like me,
Live back in the past it will soon set you free,
Your memories are precious I know you will see,
These Boomers are trying to tease us,
They want us to live like them dripping with greed,
But they’ll never bring back Cola Freezas.

Let's Get Started - Winter

Here's a stinker to get you started. A poem written around 1995 I'd say and entitled Winter. Oh grunge how you made us love the miserable Washington weather.

I am always content,
With that first taste,
Of Winter in Autumn.
The temperature
Not so cold to be uncomfortable,
But uncomfortable enough to be cold,
Is a slap of malice amidst revelers.
Chattering canines and,
Shivering limbs,
Enough to break,
The Summer's drought,
Of indifference.
We are seldom more alive,
Than when we are suffering.
We cling to our pain,
And watch our happiness from afar.
The cold air concentrates itself,
On constantly changing extremities.
First the fingertips,
Now the curves of the shoulder.
It's touch the gentle murmur,
Of those awake.
And so, climbing into,
A Winter fortress,
That lay unprotected ,
Through warmer days,
I wrap myself up in,
The season's defenses.
Warm, content and blissful.
A first embrace.

About This Blog

As my blog description says, I have absolutley no reason to pretend I have time to write new and interesting stuff. Instead, I am going to start posting all the abandoned prose and such that I wrote from the time I left high school (yes, sad and pathetic angsty poems included... maybe).

The biggest task, if I ever get to it, will be my almost finished novel. All that survives of The Strip is a printed copy incomplete. The original Word file was backed up several times on various 5 and a 1/4 inch disks and 1 floppy - none of which can be read anymore. So i'll be typing it page by page from a 150+ page manuscript.

The most interesting project will probably be (sic)bunnie - a completed screenplay treatment about fashion, third world sweatshops, human skin and murder.

I hope people can drop by and have a laugh at my pain and passion. If nothing else, I hope I can serve as a good example of why you shouldn't subject people to your poetry unless you have real talent.

Ciao for now.