Red Wine Weather

It’s Easter. Another first without my Dad.  It is cold out today but the sun is shining and after a really fun night out with my buds at The Carleton, I woke up lucid and refreshed, ready for coffee and some writing. I am longing for my family today though. I suppose that is a direct reaction of it being the first Easter without Dad. I wish we were together somewhere eating dinner and spending time. I can’t even recall the last time we were all in the same place for a happy occasion. Makes me sad but I know wherever they all are today, they are happy and doing what they want to be doing. I wish that for each of them. Always.

So, the writing: I brewed myself a fragrant cup of Joe, set my playlist, donned my headphones and went to it. Somewhere on the interwebs, I once heard Joel Plaskett say something about ‘red wine weather’. I promptly wrote it down in my notebook because the bones of a poem immediately appeared in my noodle. Today’s mission was to organize those thoughts. I love how a phrase can inspire a piece of work, whether it is a poem or a song or a feature film. Inspiration can crop up at any time. Grateful to JP for uttering .. er .. typing the words.

The poem, ‘Red Wine Weather’ is an ode to some of my favorite things: wine, art, experience, longing and indifference.  Sarcasm intended.

Check it:

Red Wine Weather

I lay here beside you

beside myself in reminiscence

this red wine weather has me

exercising my right to sullen art

on spindrift wages of ambition

                     

I lay here beside you                  

beside myself in rumination

sipping a ruby red merlot reciting the

calmness of your sleeping expression

overwhelmed by the crimson bouquet

the complex layers of plump bing cherries

fragrant baked plums pressed into hints of mocha

it is delicate, almost luxurious in texture and truth

its staying power pursed in long raspberry

and cocoa powder finish            

I lay here beside you

beside myself in trepidation

this red wine weather has me

staying still despite my artfulness

heavy and gold in its bountiful harvest

sipping sipping and then you sigh

**

However and with whomever you spend your day with, be kind and grateful.

Happy Easter, friends. And, a happy Easter to you Dad. Give my love to the stars.

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