He Rose, Stretched, and Sighed

He Rose, Stretched, and Sighed

the trainspotter came

perched himself on the

edge of a tumbledown stool

to recite his insides etched

into a soft parade of journal pages

the poems became part of the walls

illuminating secrets behind the sun

his hope and panic commanded little

enthusiasm

unashamedly shrewd

the carousing scene-maker

working strictly in metaphors

unapologetically hit the ceiling

when editors meditated on his

black corduroy jacket instead

he rose, stretched, and sighed

exited clunking his heavy boots

unsung art tucked tight under arm

cursing under his tobacco pant

slurred and strange to conventioneers

a poet’s fire

a poet’s ire

**

It's a rainy Monday.  Again.  I flaked on all writing duties this weekend.  However, I just discovered the full scope of a new character's name for my third short story with the working title, 'Too Much To Contain'.  My friend Matt Epp helped me name him when I took to Facebook for help.  Today, I randomly clicked on something, a slight secret discovery and alas his whole name is complete.  I love when things fall into place. Sometimes it pays to play around and waste mindless time on the internet.  

I did enjoy my weekend.  Friday evening I wasn't feeling the best so when I arrived home from work I collected pillows and a blanket, thew on my jammies and curled up for movies.  I watched the Canadian made hockey flick 'Goon' and then got into some really heavy cinema but taking a second stab at 'Zero Dark Thirty'.  Quite a heavy film but really well done.  On Saturday ventured over to Halifax, had a bite of lunch at The Carleton and watched the 2013 Halifax Pride Parade.  It's such a delightful parade, upbeat, colorful, full of music, cheer, love, acceptance and well ... pride.  Tens of thousands of people came out to support the parade. Always such a tremendous event.  I love that I live in a city where who you love is your own business.  My LGBT friends and yours deserve the same rights and courtesies we expect as a heterosexuals. Love is love is love.  It was a fun day.  Sunday I meant to do some writing but I was out enjoying the sunshine with Erica, her girls and her Mom.  We ran errands and grabbed wings for lunch and by the time I got home I was too tired and brain dead to get any editing done.  My bad.  Bad writer.  I blame summer. The heat!  Not my fault.  How do you spell denial? N.I.C.O.L.E.  Ha!

A wee poem to start the week.  Let's get this crazy creative train back on track!  It's a new day.  A new week.  I should set realistic writing goals for myself.  I should.

In propinquity,

Nic

Lonesome Thinking

Lonesome Thinking

I like to eat late

ponder sympathetic stories

and contemplate furtive plans

to prevent catastrophes

my driving thoughts

weighted down by passengers

those rare and remarkable

torn by loyalty and ambition

and then

the ever-present conundrum

to condemn or defend

I like to drink early

deliberate forfeited deceits

and envision surreptitious tactics

for averting calamities

and I might

heave a sigh

allusive but never aloof

I like to forecast

the slow and elegant rise

of exposed situations belonging

to the pained and fraudulent

quixotic philosophies

idealistic rehearsals

I am lonesome when I think

I am silent when I speak

I like to be right but offer nothing

**

I learned a few interesting literary morsels today.  It was reported that Jane Austen will soon appear on the £10 note in the UK.  How frackin’ cool is that?!  I’m almost inclined to ask a UK friend to send me one, with proper compensation of course, just to have one.  I think it’s a marvelous idea.  Cha-ching!

I also discovered that Margaret Atwood has completed a libretto for operatic production that chronicles the tragic life of legendary Canadian poet and actor, Pauline Johnson.  This is super exciting because I know very little about her so I’m compelled to learn more in light of this outstanding news.  I doubt I’ll be in attendance for any of the performances but anything is possible.  Seeing a live opera is on my bucket list.

I confess I didn’t do anything in the way of editing ‘Large-Hearted’.  I was going to last night but I watched a disturbing documentary instead, about a home invasion/murder in Cheshire, Connecticut.  I kept trying to turn it off because it was turning my stomach but I endured the full scope of the story to its end.  It was a complicated tale that involved the death penalty and I’m not even sure I fully believe the details of the crime.  I also don’t think the small town police force did everything they could to save the mother and two daughters who were killed.  My heart ached for them and I truly hope they have found peace.  Egads.  I normally don’t watch that sort of thing but I was too tired to change the channel and got sucked in.  It’s scary, the evil that lurks in this world, it also serves as a stark reminder to seek out the goodness life offers.  Bad things happen to good people and you wish to God you could understand why.  Appreciating life is the only source of survival.  And love.

Yay for Fridays!  I discovered I have a beer in my fridge this morning.  So, tonight, I’m going to go home, change into my comfy clothes, fire up my ‘Large-Hearted’ playlist and start working.  Weather permitting; I am going to take in the Halifax Pride parade tomorrow.  It’s the happiest and most colorful parade I’ve ever seen and rivals every other one we have in this city.  I hope the sun shines so everyone can get out and celebrate.  After the parade, I figure I’ll sit with my pages and keep working.  Eavesdrop a little, people watch and think.  An artist date is necessary.  I look forward to it.

Coming up:  next weekend will mark the 118^th birthday of Halifax/Dartmouth.  In celebration, I’ll be taking in Joel Plaskett’s show on the Dartmouth waterfront avec fireworks.  At least, that’s the plan so far.  And as always, weather permitting.  And THEN, the countdown will be ON for Matt Mays in Hubbards at the Shore Club.  Righteous!  I look so forward to that night away from the city.

Have a great weekend, lovely humans.  Practice random acts of kindness and be good to yourself.

In propinquity,

Nic