The Setting Sun We See

Poems, December 19, 2009 at 10h05

the setting sun we see is a flickering flame
darker each day it dances and wittles away
a beautiful glow that grows so frightfully faint
through a canvas of carbon clouds in poisonous paint
the setting sun we see is a flickering flame
blown out by the breath of death today
shining a little less than yesterday
a monument to this mess that man has made

Finishing Touches

My Regular Mind, December 16, 2009 at 12h27

Almost there. I suspect I should be ready to go live this weekend. Boy am I eager to get this going. There are still a couple things I’m not sure about, things like whether or not to have comments. I want to encourage discussion but I definitely want to weed out the disingenuous remarks. People have a tendency to get quite hostile on some subjects. Especially the ones that I must write about. Continued…

Understanding Quality

My Regular Mind, December 10, 2009 at 08h36

In my sleep, I saw us walking into a book store. She went around, looking at this and that, while I went to the counter and asked for a particular title. It wasn’t in stock. For whatever reason, I knew it definitely was, and went behind the counter, picked up my uniform and nametag, and searched through the system. Sure enough, there it was. But once I’d found it, I couldn’t leave. My shift wasn’t over. So she waited for me, wandering the store until my frantic workday was over. Continued…

Writing Things Down

Crime of Life, December 6, 2009 at 09h20

I learned a few things from my dad while working with him during the summer. He had a successful welding shop, so for a month when school was out I played with cutting torches, welders, and cut-off saws. Not a bad skill to learn. 

I must have been having a particularly lousy day, and my dad must have noticed because I’d made a few mistakes that day. So when he asked me to cut some angle-iron at a few different lengths, he told me twice. The second time, he really stressed it. 

As if I couldn’t remember a few numbers.

Annoyed, I said something about not being an idiot, went to the back and cut the metal to the wrong size. Now I like to write instructions down.

Shaken English

Crime of Life, December 2, 2009 at 09h19

Somehow I’d become friends with the German exchange student; friends enough that we were talking on the phone and somehow hours had gone by. She no longer enjoyed talking to her boyfriend, she said.

There were times between us, often during our Wednesday spare, when things were tense. I knew she liked me. She told me so.

I asked her why she was with her boyfriend if she no longer cared for him.

Her English was unusually shaky when she said that I didn’t understand.

And so was mine, when I told her she was probably right.

(Losing and Finding) The Way

My Regular Mind, November 12, 2009 at 09h09

A dream last night that I couldn’t shake despite waking from it twice had me arriving from a flight to Vancouver and being met by my father. Such a surprise that he managed to navigate his way through public transportation to welcome me home. I was so happy and relieved to see him. I followed him up an escalator, on the Skytrain, on the bus; always behind him, always looking up at him. We went in circles, neither of us could navigate the city well enough to escape the loop. The city blurred every place I’ve lived; Peace River, Edmonton, and here, Vancouver. We never found our way. Continued…


Crime of Life, November 11, 2009 at 11h41
tags used:

I was young when my grandfather died. He was a veteran of the second world war. This is what I remember.

Mom was crying, dad was holding her. My aunts and uncles, cousins and grandma, they were all there, but I didn’t want to look around. When grandpa was sick, we visited him a lot in the hospital. I never wanted to go. The smell bothered me. But mom said it was important, so we all went together. When I saw him in the casket, I remember he looked the same as he did in the hospital, only asleep. For a while after this I was afraid of going to sleep. Continued…


My Regular Mind, November 9, 2009 at 08h00

Nowhere else in nature is such impatience found as it is in us. It never used to be this way, probably because we simply didn’t know any better. Now technology has created a demand of instant satisfaction. At any given moment, we hardly have time; it is not on our side, we have turned it against ourselves. Continued…

Huffing and Puffing

My Regular Mind, November 5, 2009 at 01h07

After he kicked in my front door, I stopped threatening to call the police and actually did. The man wanted nothing more than to come inside and pull Ivan out — and it wasn’t as though I liked Ivan, but by comparison he was far safer than the big bad wolf at the door.

This man was prone to bad decisions. A distant friend of a friend who was new in town and lived nearby. I was friendly, we hung out. I recall one night when I went camping, he showed up. No tent, no sleeping bag; nothing but a few flats of beer. He drank without pause. There was this place he knew of that he insisted on driving to, and he went, a dozen beers later. When he came back, he bragged about his near collision. Like it was some mark of manliness.

The big bad wolf had been dating Ivan’s sister, and for whatever reason, they hated each other. We’d all been at the only bar in town earlier that evening, and apparently they had exchanged words. They were drunk as all stinking hell, angry, and in my home. So when I locked the door on him, he kicked it down. I know that he wasn’t thinking clearly, and I know he was sorry for doing it, but that was the last I ever saw of him. Driving away in a hundred wild emotions, risking everyone around him.

My Back to the Drawing Board

My Regular Mind, November 4, 2009 at 10h33

My web site doubts have devoured me. Already. As I think about usefulness and practicality, I wonder who but my imaginary fans might visit it. I wanted a means to bridge my politics and creativity. Exposure. But the Internet is already full of exposure, and who can really harness that, anyway? And so it will come along now, a new vision. Something far simpler. And with that, new deadlines, new delays.

At least in part.