Saturday, April 21, 2018

Room Service




I was asked this morning by a dear friend if I ever “feel lost?” Those are big words “feel lost.” To me feeling lost was the first few days on my antidepressant medicine in the city when it messed with my brain and I couldn’t find my way home despite the fact that I had walked the route a million times before. It that what is? To be emotionally lost? To have taken the steps before but to not know where you are?

I bring this up because I had an interesting connection with a friend  that I worked with more than 12 years ago for many years.

You see I dream of working at the hotel all the time; I would have liked to have stayed there and worked shit out.  But it wasn’t meant to be.  The only touch I have with the people I worked with is facebook. And didn’t realize I had any “live connections” to the halls of the lord nelson.

But this friend posted all her clip boards at her new job just like we would have room orders and function specs to fix for the day at the old hotel. How many chairs needed to be set how many water glasses needed to be polished etc.

And then I realized I organize this way too: LOL. I don’t have room for clip boards but I hang poem ‘works in progress’ up on the wall with a binder clip and a tack and sort them all in little trays when they are  ready to be sent away.  It was heart warming to me that I had taken that piece of the hotel with me.  The icing on the cake was that I showed her the picture of my wall and she said: “Ahh all the room service breakfast orders”. And I was like yeah, “that what I did” it’s not just in my dreams, I wasn’t there alone and I didn’t leave it all behind. SO I guess I was a little lost before this happened.



Sunday, April 1, 2018

The King




Little feathers
In the air
Little birds
Fly here and there

Little kitties
In the bush
Grab the birds
By their little tush

“Don’t” says mama
As she runs outside
With her housecoat and
Slippers: her rules, to abide

Little tabby
Has other plans
Birdy dinner
In special pans

Four and twenty
Blackbirds
Baked in a pie
Pie pie pie fit for the king

Thursday, March 29, 2018

Mathmatical World



I guess at times like this, times when I feel that I’ve failed to match up to what the world (or a few people in the world) think I should be, I start to feel down, and like I’ve failed. Maybe for all the ways I believe I know myself, theres so much more to know now that I’m healthy.

Yesterday,  I had a job interview for a job I know I could do, but didn’t have the experience to back it up, SO when they asked “what is your experience” I froze. If they had asked, “what would you do in this situation?" I would have had a fair chance to answer and prove myself. Damn I had some good answers too, because, well, I’d be good at this position.

But I’m so emotionally driven. I decided that next time I go into a job interview, I will have a plan, If I’m not able to get across what I believe needs to get across in an interview I will have a way to et what I need to be heard said. I always say do an interview and a Dr’s appointment the same. I wasn’t able to this time around.

What I did want to do. Break into song, there was actually a moment where I thought, “Do it, do your amazing grace for her right here and right now.” At forty people say is when you miss what you gave up in your childhood. I never gave up singing, but I gave up thinking I could do it professionally. It’s what I spend a lot of my free time doing.

So At times when I feel like I’ve failed and I’m stupid, I have to remember I’m not. I just work on an emotional level rather than a mathmatical level. And I have to sell that in a mathmatical world.



Wednesday, March 14, 2018

Away


It was a year ago when I last thought “I have to move back home with my parents.” And this year again the thought goes through my mind. As of last year it wasn’t an option and a received a big ol “no” when I came to my mom crying.

Last year I knew I wasn’t going to be able to make it another winter on my pay. This year I interviewed for and got a higher paying job with more hours. And I have enough cash to make it through the winter a lot more comfortably than last year. But this year it still looms.

I moved home 13 years ago with a major depression, I tired to be a writer but I was too sick and sickness was all that came out of my writing. It wasn’t till I got a job and started interacting with people again that I was able to come out bit by bit. It’s taken about a decade to get gooder.

Last year the plan was to learn how to drive, keep up the job for a year or two and get a down payment for a house. If I could drive I could get a house in the country too, not be confined to a location close to work and groceries.

This week the plan was to just take a year and go on EI and live with my parents and prove to them that I could be an artist. Finally use my degree for something. Right now there’s no time to read or write even play the piano. I couldn’t play the piano tonight as I had this rolling around in my head and new I had to get it out.

I’m forty, I don’t want a job, I don’t want to climb the corporate ladder, I’m not bored when I’m home alone I always have a list of things that I need to do and they never get done I’m always exhausted.

“Maybe I’m just lazy?”

Then I heard a million voices answer back to me, “You’re not lazy.”

I’m not lazy.

Things have changed in the past ten years. A lot of things. A lot of them specifically because I have hada job and can get around town on my own and have delicious friends that get me out and about.



When I complain my mother says “Well I wish I could win the lotto for you, that’s the only way is if we have money.”

I’m reminded of high school where I was so unhappy but there was no way out because “We didn’t have money.” I haven’t believed that’s the only saving grace in this situation, but I’ve never realized how to change my thought process.

But that’s what it takes is a changing of thought process.

I couldn't make it in the theatre world post graduation. I would have needed to crash on a friends couch, and spends a year or two doing films and theatre that pay very little to prove to the world  I've "got what it takes" and earnsome industry cred.

I tried to live on my own and earn the cred, but I worked a full time catering job as well, and you can’t gain film cred when A) you don’t drive a car and B) you fall asleep on the cruddy floor of Halifax’s little cigar bar during a climatic scene.

“Dear God, all I ask is that I didn’t snore.”

SO here I am in Duncanville with two cats (They are always in the picture they are my babies) a book shelf I never have time to read and a head afraid of coming up with ideas because I'm afraid of not having time to write then out.

And for a second year in a row I want to move home, and it’s not because of money or a house, it’s simply because I want to write. Songs, poems, plays, something I’ve been putting off for 20 years, learning how to do better for 20 years and now, I need a change.

SO Now I need some ideas of how to get more time to write and still feed and shelter myself and the babies and be creative a whole lote more.


Oh and lets save the world while we’re at it.

Monday, February 19, 2018

Sand Dollar




If I were a woman
Who cared for sex
I would have it
Like shaggy
Oh but it was me

If I were a woman
Who cared for men’s antics
I would collect them
Like sand dollars
And hold them in my hand

Carefully

I am a woman
Looking for love
And so I surround myself
With literature, cats, friends and music

Until I walk on the beach
And find my sand dollar



My circus... because I can





When did indifferent
Over take human compassion?
Movies, books, news…
When did the soul of breathing and likeness
Say not my circus not my monkeys?
To the killing of animals-
To the killing of children-
To the killing of adults.-

Take me from that starving child
On that street corner
On my street corner
Performing for dinner
Little jazz hands reached out
Her parents shot down
At an airport
But I guess it’s alright
Because I prayed for her
When I heard it on the news

When was saying a prayer
Or blindly opening your purse
While still taking on traffic
Solve the problems?
Especially in a universe
More directed by science
Than the power
Of a forgotten god?

And I sit here and wonder
How I can help?

I can’t open my wallet and
Give money that seems to be the answer
Give money that will help the suffering
Money does not aide any suffering in my life

And then I realize
I have a strong voice
And will use it to edit
What I see from you
Echo what I hear you say

I say I have no compassion for humans
That love is awakened with the animals
Yet nothing can cause me
Quite as much depression
As an unhappy world
An unhappy me
I am not as indifferent
To the suffering
And experience of the human
As I believe in this planet
I will not pray for you I will get out and walk with you...

Wednesday, February 14, 2018

Happy "i hate you" Day


Sticks and stones

May break my bones
But your nasty words entice me

I heard fancy words
Today
He told me he hated me
Today
In the taste of chocolate brownies
Bake sales
And
Happy Valentines Day…

Couldn’t even wait till
Tomorrow

50% off chocolates and cinnamon hearts
Mumbled something
About not being able respond
When I asked
If what he said
Was true
And then
He laughed

You see that’s how
I spent today
Because in a sea
Of I love you’s
It only takes one drop
Of random ink
To spoil the
Paper cards and
Calico cats
Wrapped in red ribbon

I see even more
Darkness
Than I ever
Have before
And I have
To keep reaching
Into the light
It gets further
Away and further away
From me

You said you hated me today
Who are you?
To me?
Just someone who hasn’t seen
What I have
Now light up your
Gummy Bear world
Because I’ve been there before
Watch me
I’ll fly

Well I have a secret
I don’t hate you
I can't do it
It's my blood
Comes from my heart
And I send you love
Hope you too can see the light
That I reach for every day

Now open up your world
Because I’ve been there before
Wait a few minutes
I’ll fly
One "I hate you"
Won’t take the day away
It only make me fly