Thursday, August 7, 2008

"You can run to the Coney Island rollercoaster, ride it to the highest point and leap across the filthy water...."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GXzGV00RvF4
Eleanor Put Your Boots On by Franz Ferdinand
Very breezy and a little cooler then is usual for early August. I am loving it. The day, following the early afternoon downpour of rain, has just seemed very peaceful. I was out and did some reading, while relaxing with a huge cup of green tea.
I would love to live in this house and be in my own world. Well my own physical world, unlike my current own mental world.
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/08/07/garden/07clingstone.html?_r=1&em&oref=slogin
Today I finished reading A Painted House by John Grishman and actually enjoyed it. I liked Luke's seven year old perception of the people around him and 1952 life in rural Arkansas. Plus his love of baseball and its many references in the book.
"If I see you again, on the street, by the beach, in the evening, will you fly like a bird............"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h_grPIpFvDU
Bird Stealing Bread by Iron and Wine
I also did some writing this afternoon and the results are below.
Not Everything Reads Like A Screenplay
The day is cool for early August
A downpour of rain came around noon
Quickly being replaced by sunlight
Now shortly after three it is breezy
The girl had the saddest summer eyes
Mine might look the same to another
People are reflected in office windows
Their walking bodies contorted oddly
I am a silent observer on this Thursday
Unwilling to confess beyond these words
The birds swoop done to gather up food
Bringing to mind an Iron and Wine song
Very little does not remind me of music
I suppose it is one of my few comforts
A wool sweater on a cold winter day
They are only months away from returning
Shortly after our final harvesting of crops
The food that sustains us through hibernation
Sleep is hardly a comfort to my thoughts
A feeling of tiredness never really expels
Occasionally peace returns contently like a smile
There is no predicting these rare moments
As a child they would seem completely normal
Flowers in a vase on a wooden kitchen table
Augmented by a variety of fruits varying in colour
The Ferris wheel will be spinning again before long
Our summer skin will start to chill at night
Long before September has become October
Her sad eyes might find some happiness
I suppose there are a lot of possibilities
Should we sit down and really think about them
Not everything reads like a screenplay
Hearts do not always overcome their breaking
Some heal and they become stronger than before
Others remain fragile like me and mine
Eleanor you can take your boots off
I am done following your footsteps around
There does not seem to be any love left
Spring bloomed what it could but summer ruined it
Choices were made and plans broken
The breeze tells me it is going to be okay
A faint whisper coming from the future
Reminding me it is out there somewhere
How fortunate this is for all of us
On a Thursday in early August.
08/07/08
john.

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