I can't find a video or audio clip to today's featured song, Autumn Walker by Jets To Brazil but you should really check it out. The band is no longer together and recorded 3 albums from 1998-2002.
It feels like a lazy Sunday today. I haven't been outside, but it looks rather windy, probably slightly cool and the sun comes out once in a while. I am not so patiently waiting for my online fantasy hockey draft at 3. The waiting is the hardest part, as Tom Petty wrote. It was nice to watch some regular season games yesterday, even if they were from Europe and looked like a boring International game. Fans of the Ottawa Senators should be worried, Martin Gerber looked horrible in net and I think it is only a matter of time before Alex Auld is the number one goalie. That is a scary thought as well. They can't be as bad as the Leafs though. Too bad.
I had a visit and dinner with my grandparents yesterday. The very peaceful summer backyard has started to turn into a scattering collection of autumn signs. My grandfather was pulling out green cherry tomatoes that will never make it to red. Everything just seemed like it was less vibrant but still sort of peaceful like it was supposed to be this way. The seasons have always changed and hopefully always will, there is something moving about standing among so much change.
There is a weirdness today, I just mentioned The Waiting by Tom Petty and it is now playing on my iTunes. Earlier today when I was writing the poem which will be below, I wrote, a spot in the clearing and The Clearing by Matthew Jay was the next song on. I know it is all random but at times I wonder. Maybe love is the same way. I should really change my opinion on this but I don't think I am quite ready yet.
I don't know why, but I had never watched Catch Me If You Can with Tom Hanks and Leonardo DiCaprio. I would think considering it has been out at least 5 years I should have seen it but no. Well I watched it last night and it was interesting, considering it is based on a real story. It was long though almost 2 and half hours. My lack of attention span needed to pause it a couple of times. Once for what turned into 4 hours of sleep. Sleep, all I need and think about. Okay, it isn't that bad, but it is close. Back to work tonight, lovely. There is a link to information about the movie below.
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0264464/
I hadn't wrote anything in 9 days and the result below probably shows it. I literally froze this morning when I sat down to write. All I could do was stare out the front window and watch the trees moving in the wind. Sometimes I feel like never writing again but after a few days I feel guilty. It is like something I force myself to do, I am not even sure if I like doing. All the poems seem like they say the same thing. Reused images and observations. Then a certain line or image sticks in my head and makes me think it is completely original but most likely isn't. Everything has probably been said better and long before I thought it. If I even thought it, it could just be a reflection of another person's thought. Complicated. Most likely not. Just me, complicating things. At times I think I could live in a house in the middle of the forest and not really miss anyone. Though I know I would eventually but it seems like it would be the perfect place for me to grow old. It is better than trying to hide among the living.
Obvious Imperfections
The October trees are waving goodbye
A long, colourful but ultimately sad occasion
Their leaves will fall, scatter and decompose
Giving nutrients and food to the soil below
A process ensuring the survival of the forest
I weave through mine guided by slices of light
The golden dust sparkling like a girl’s eyes
Though they never do for me but it is alright
I am too old now despite still appearing young
First impressions are all people really care about
Our stories should be short like a matinee movie
Complete with Hollywood’s version of beautiful
The clothes designer, Indie cool or filthy rich
Everything else can be fake as long as it works
Perfect breasts, lips, clear skin and orange tans
Sickening images given the cost of their undertaking
What are we without our flaws is a pointless question
I ask anyway because of my obvious imperfections
Hoping to find someone special who does not care
Whether my story takes time to become beautiful
Believing it will eventually be worthy of her own
My own faith is not strong and never has been
The self image work continues for good or bad
I know there are moments of progress and retreat
Square one is miles in the past but can be seen
The sight scares me and keeps me moving deeper
Where the light is not as plentiful but still golden
After it filters down through the waving trees
I have not given up on finding a spot of clearing
Being lost is only a state of mind and it can pass
My loneliness can never be cured but only dealt with
The way many other things are looked after daily
Romance is more than a pair of girl’s sparkling eyes
No matter how golden they appear reflecting in glass
Their vision is elsewhere and my heart is nowhere near
Much like it has always been on Sundays in October.
10/05/08
Sundays in October will certainly become Sundays in November and so on. Time goes on, as it always has, only our impression of it changes.
jr.
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