This evening
I judged a 'slam poetry' competition. One of the kids was so good, I actually cried. It was your usual pseudo-goth 'God/Politics/Our Parents/Sluts are all evil' type stuff, but the occasional gem poked through the dirt. It made me want to write, which is strange, as I usually regard poetry as the type of thing wannabe goths do to try to 'look dark' or 'not conform.' My buddy Kevin has shown me that anybody can write poetry, it's just the state of mind of the person writing it that effects his/her own perception. So, I'm a gonna get down, free-verse style.
Loser
Who goes to the movies by himself these days?
That'd be me.
My love of cheesy movies usually leaves me alone
with someplace to go and nobody to share popcorn with.
My buttery fingers reach greedily for the next kernel of maybe/maybe
not popped popcorn in order to feed my salt-induced hunger.
I usually finish my popcorn before the movie even starts and I
usually end up missing the first few minutes because my fat ass
loves the buttery goodness.
Really, the reason I eat so fast is because I have nobody to talk to,
at least that I know. Random people in the theatre tend to think
you crazy if you just start talking.
I go because I enjoy the cinema, and apparently I am the only one
who does this evening, as I am the only person in the room.
Maybe I really am the loser that eats because he yearns for someone
to talk to and goes to movies alone because he's afraid
of when the words run out.
I'd muse more, but the movie is getting ready to start, and I'm
out of popcorn.
The crossroads of a bad day
As I pulled on my shoes this morning, the problem I had been avoiding
stared me straight in the face.
What once was a cute fraying, that gave my shoes 'life' and 'character'
is slowly becoming the harbinger of a bad day.
I head to work and do the usual, make copies, chat with colleagues,
remind myself that this constant feeling of annoyance with my students is
just a phase.
Every time I step with my left foot, I feel myself coming one step closer
to that crossroad, the instant my shoe goes loose and my so far mediocre
day takes a turn for the worst.
I look down and see those tired strands of cotton, desperately clinging to each other,
and I am reminded of all of the people I have met and wove paths with.
I feel like that withered part.
I feel worn.
I feel frayed.
I feel like I am just about to come apart.
I feel like the distance between my interwoven particles is getting too large.
In my musings and ruminations, I looked past the problem and saw the whole.
I saw that a flaw in one part doesn't ruin the whole.
I saw that the imperfection helped me appreciate the perfect.
I saw that while one shoe was a problem, the other was going strong.
And, just as I was feeling better about life, love, and my everyday apparel,
I felt a sudden slackening on my left foot.
My shoestring had broken.
Loser
Who goes to the movies by himself these days?
That'd be me.
My love of cheesy movies usually leaves me alone
with someplace to go and nobody to share popcorn with.
My buttery fingers reach greedily for the next kernel of maybe/maybe
not popped popcorn in order to feed my salt-induced hunger.
I usually finish my popcorn before the movie even starts and I
usually end up missing the first few minutes because my fat ass
loves the buttery goodness.
Really, the reason I eat so fast is because I have nobody to talk to,
at least that I know. Random people in the theatre tend to think
you crazy if you just start talking.
I go because I enjoy the cinema, and apparently I am the only one
who does this evening, as I am the only person in the room.
Maybe I really am the loser that eats because he yearns for someone
to talk to and goes to movies alone because he's afraid
of when the words run out.
I'd muse more, but the movie is getting ready to start, and I'm
out of popcorn.
The crossroads of a bad day
As I pulled on my shoes this morning, the problem I had been avoiding
stared me straight in the face.
What once was a cute fraying, that gave my shoes 'life' and 'character'
is slowly becoming the harbinger of a bad day.
I head to work and do the usual, make copies, chat with colleagues,
remind myself that this constant feeling of annoyance with my students is
just a phase.
Every time I step with my left foot, I feel myself coming one step closer
to that crossroad, the instant my shoe goes loose and my so far mediocre
day takes a turn for the worst.
I look down and see those tired strands of cotton, desperately clinging to each other,
and I am reminded of all of the people I have met and wove paths with.
I feel like that withered part.
I feel worn.
I feel frayed.
I feel like I am just about to come apart.
I feel like the distance between my interwoven particles is getting too large.
In my musings and ruminations, I looked past the problem and saw the whole.
I saw that a flaw in one part doesn't ruin the whole.
I saw that the imperfection helped me appreciate the perfect.
I saw that while one shoe was a problem, the other was going strong.
And, just as I was feeling better about life, love, and my everyday apparel,
I felt a sudden slackening on my left foot.
My shoestring had broken.