Williams
Richmond near Central
Reflections are their own illusions, they show us in very vague moments. Those reality has already captured us in and we are frozen, changed or leaving. Long before illusion forgets our memory.
The stupidity of our intelligence, is in the intelligence of it.
I have found since I do not write as much anymore, there are random lines like those above finding their way into my thoughts. Most of the time I forget them after they arrive, (this coming from someone who claims to remember everything) but I have started to write some of them down. In the past they would end up in poems but since I do not write many anymore, there is no home for them.
"I'm dreaming of car wrecks and thunderstorms bright, let's bury ourselves and go haunt someone tonight....."
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OU2edbKMfx4
St. Augustine by Band of Horses
I love Band of Horses. A friend recently wrote me saying that No One's Gonna Love You was one of her favourite songs right now and I should check it out. Of course, I am already a fan, so it was exciting knowing someone else I know shares my liking of them. Though we are more often than not musically aligned.
I did write a poem this afternoon, despite being distracted as I often am. I used to feel comfortable in certain places and among certain faces, I do not feel so comfortable anymore. The poem below is about losing this comfort and many other things, I could not explain.
Losing the Comfort of Places and Faces
The late afternoon snow begins to swirl
A serious conversation carries on quietly
The gusts of wind are colder and longer
Words are lost, stolen or never spoken
Our future has been decided separately
A child will never be born between us
Memories of May’s beginning end here
On a Saturday barely into a new year
The plainness of our goodbye remains
Long after we have left forever apart
Puzzles of love are often uncompleted
A blue sky in pieces and roads unpaved
There is no gold among the silver lining
Jude cannot make the sad song better
A piano is best tuned for the melancholy
Those of us who listen without happiness
Disillusion at the tips of uncurled fingers
The hand holding days have been broken
We now walk alone through our cities
Reminiscing about first and last times
Unimaginably hating favourite songs
Losing the comfort of places and faces
Waiting for January to become February
Unable to shake the old from the new
Months and years end unlike calendars
There is always a new beautiful picture
Perhaps a famous or insightful quotation
Words to live by when you cannot speak
Choosing to be silent in a world of noise
Martyrs, rockets and all the war deceased
Innocence does not immune us from death
Life leaves us vulnerable to many cruelties
Foremost among them is love’s departure
With reasons too complex for explanations
Our necessity to have them is irresistible
The way having a hand to hold becomes.
01/10/09
"But, by then it would be winter, not much for you to do, and those winds sure can blow could way out there....."
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jIc5h2bfYyU
Four Strong Winds by Neil Young with Willie Nelson
It was confirmed today by Prime Minister Stephen Harper's office that Barack Obama's first international trip would be to Canada. This is not uncommon for American presidents, though Bush visited Mexico first, this might explain a lot. I am sure Ottawa will be all abuzz when the new president comes visiting, no date has been set, but I am sure he will not be heading out to Alberta. The inspiration for Ian Tyson's great Canadian song Four Strong Winds, a song covered by many artists including Johnny Cash, Bob Dylan, John Denver and very successfully by Neil Young.
"The winter birds have come back again, here the sprightly Chickadee, gone now is the Willow Wren, in passing greet each other as if old friends, and to the voiceless trees, it is their own they will lend........"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n6Ma9MCxzLM
Winter Birds by Ray LaMontagne
Winter here takes on many forms, tonight it is growing cold and light snow has been falling since late afternoon. Next week we are supposed to have daytime highs of -10 and above. A deep freeze. After this it is not impossible to think that we will have a thaw and then another freeze. Canada's winter weather can be unpredictable or predictably cold.
I noticed today that the Israel protests here in town had more supporters out than last week. It doesn't surprise me as it is a mirror reflection of the world's reaction. I really think both sides need to stop before they reach a point of no return. This can only mean more innocent deaths in Gaza and more hatred towards Israel. Not to mention the potential of an all out war, bringing Iran and American into the equation. I am sure soon to be President Obama doesn't want this, Iran and Hamas might, as might Israel. There are no innocent governments in the world, only the innocent people who put their faith or are forced to put their faith in them.
The following is from The Cellist by Steven Galloway.
"He has been coming here all his life. Everywhere he looks reminds him of some memory, of something lost that can't be recovered. He wonders what will happen after, when the fighting stops."
My city is not at war, but it feels altered to me, much in the way the passage says and as partly reflected in my poem above.
And the following is from The Story of Edgar Sawtelle by David Wroblewski.
"Just because a thing can't be logged, charted, and summarized doesn't mean it isn't real. Half the time we walk around in love with the idea of a thing instead of the reality of it. But sometimes things don't out that way. You have to pay attention to what's real, what's in the world. Not some imaginary alternative, as if it's a choice we could make."
A feeling.
Today's featured lyrics are from the song Vienna by The Fray, it has been in my head all week. There is a link to it below.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=70HuGYAPIVQ
The snow is still falling on Victoria Park. The trees are dark, in the absence of their holiday lights, which should remain illuminated until spring's arrival. A few souls are taking an evening skate on the outdoor sheet of ice. Inside people come and go, beverages and food are consumed, conversations are started, finished or left hanging to be picked up like a coat on a hanger.
In my ears is music and on my mind is home, and sleep.
The weekends are tough on me. Yesterday though I did have a good visit with my grandparents. Dinner was a great meal of fried and battered chicken, fried red pototo pieces with bread and onions, along with a garden salad. Though after the meal I could barely keep my eyes open. I went to bed before 10, woke up around 12, stayed up until around 3 and slept until after noon. So I really shouldn't be tired, perhaps I am bored or creatively exhausted.
I do not know if there is snow on the ground in Vienna but it is -8 with freezing fog, sounds like the weather there isn't much better than here.
john.
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