Saturday, February 05, 2005
How Great is ...
this? Enamored. Fascinated. I could watch it forever.Alright, I'm UP, Dammit
I was dreaming of that last week away with Matt, except we were late checking out and I was frantically packing. Except I was packing everything of my own, including all my books which now live in the cabinets above the couch.I opened my eyes to a cat asleep. Facing me, head on my pillow, eyes on a level with my eyes, paw curled up on the pillow in front of him. Curled unnaturally so, like a hand bent over at the wrist to rest under a chin. Waking up when I do to stretch out his arms and yawn like a little boy.
Seems I do have a boyfriend after all.
Right now he is sitting beside me, half draped over my leg and watching me type - I can see his eyes moving. Do you think he knows I'm talking 'bout him?
Anyhoo, I looked up "packing" in my dandy dream dictionary....
The washing machine wasn't working last week (something else which I don't pay for) so now that's fixed I am taking care of two weeks worth of laundrey, boiling water to wash dishes and borrowing the neighbor's shower.
Below, the final Malcolm, including links so (if you like) you can read them all in order without having to search about. Later, I shall be back with the post I wrote after my week 'off', which is about well, the things I thought through on my week off, and is a kind of 'companion' piece to the poetry. Just not as succinct.
lyric at post:
..in our lives
love has hid her face to save her heart from breaking
into feeling..
...A Story Ends
With the Barest Glimpse of An Anticipated Future
Rilke and YeatsHelp me to write.
Show me the gates
Where the orders are,
And the cage
My soul stares at,
Where my courage
Roars through the grates.
Monday
Tuesday
Wednesday
Thursday
Friday
Friday, February 04, 2005
The Very Beginning
My First Posts Ever, Handcoded
Sunday, August 17, 2003feeding frenzy
it's not others I fear.
i'm afraid of myself,
i'm afraid of my own thoughts
turned back on themselves.
i could tear myself apart
in a frenzy of self-doubt,
leaving only shreds of quivering tissue
to mark my place in this world
when all else is done and gone.
Sunday, August 17, 2003
here, now
One of My Three Wishes
Jen,also, Vanessa, and Sal.In a room. In a pub, maybe. The back room, near the dartboard.
Jen with a beer, Sal and a big honking cider, Vanessa with a idontevenknow - a something, a port?
Around a chipped and wobbly table - Jen is trying to stuff a matchbook under the leg for stability, Vanessa's got her feet on it - using them for emphasis. Sal, a little overwhelmed but not at a loss for words, our Sal - bumping his knees on the underside.
Laughing, roaring, leaning in, whispering, engaged, intent, yelling, poking fingers into chests to make a point, shouting out for another drink.
Can't you picture it? Wouldn't that be the best goddamn thing?
lyric at post:
..may the good lord be with you down every road you roam
and may sunshine and happiness surround you when you're far from home
and may you grow to be proud, dignified, and true
and do unto others as you would have done to you..
And Do Unto Others
I think that life is more precious than we'll ever comprehend and I'd be the last person to ever disagree with that. But sometimes, one life is not worth all of the ones it infects, all of the people it hurts and all of the generational ramifications of it's actions.Someone may be offended by this, but, I think, if you knew what I know, you would agree with me that the world is now a little bit of a better place.
Do me a favor, pal, don't rest in peace.
...A Story About In and Through
Listen. Listen.
A New ShipLike the black iron steps
leading from some aerial footway
flung over road and lines down at the dockside
crowded with holiday makers
is the past ----
and evermore my mind climbs down that stair
to find, below, the selfsame wharf, despair.
But one day a new ship is waiting there.
Just The Facts, eh?
Fighting Cancer
I never actually noticed these things while I was smoking lo, these last 23+ years. Two and a half of which were AFTER my lung cancer diagnosis and treatment....before you freak out, let me just say that if you are upset by the above comment then you're probably a non-smoker cause smokers understand that there just ain't no quitting, no 'scared straight', no qualms about smoking through a hole in your throat (let's be honest, here).
I have vowed never to become a militant and rabid anti-smoker ex-smoker but although I fully advocate scare tactics as a deterrent, as well as a reinforcement for those who have already quit I also know that nothing, but nothing, I mean, NOTHING is going to make you successfully quit until you're ready to. And I'll tell you this - you just don't know when 'ready' is. It's a delicate balance of trying / wanting /readiness that's impossible to predict. But, then you can look at something like the stats below, reinforce your tortuous months and be all smug, while secretly and fervently wishing for just one more.
THE ODDS
At current rates, 38 per cent of Canadian women and 43 per cent of men will develop some form of cancer. Most likely this will happen later in life. About 23 per cent of women and 28 per cent of men -- or almost one in four Canadians -- will die from the disease. (that's roughly eight million of the people I live in this country with right now)
THE BIG ONES
Along with prostate cancer in men and breast cancer in women, lung and colorectal cancers in both sexes comprise 50 per cent of all new cases each year. Breast and prostate are the most common cancers, but lung cancer remains the most frequent cause of death. For women, the mortality rate is growing at three times what it was in 1975, a result of the huge increase in women smokers from the 1960s to early '80s. Others that are difficult to cure: leukemia, multiple myeloma, and pancreatic, stomach, ovary, brain and esophageal cancer.
Thursday, February 03, 2005
I Need a Ghostwriter and Movie Rights, I Really Do
The hot water heater? Toast.Parts in stock? On THIS island? Ha, you've got to be joking. It's on order though.
Yeah, thanks.
I've lived here for 3 months....
-furnace broken, no heat
-propane out, no heat, no hot water
-pipes frozen, no water
-sewage backed up
I swear, there is not much left that can actually go wrong with this place. *knocks wood*
I hate being without a shower in the morning. HATE.
I walked by the office of someone I work with today and heard her saying, "Seriously, and then her car was towed for no reason and not only did they break the door but they damaged the wheel well AND the hatchback .... I've never seen anyone in my life with such weird shit happening to them, ALL THE TIME."
Bah, they've only known me for three months. They're amateurs. Amateurs, I tells ya.
Really though, you just get used to it.
And good shit happens too. Although, this month is not a good time to ask for a list.
The Malcolm Lowry stuff - it's not about the lovely words and the fabulous way he puts them together (not a happy guy, though, eh?) so much as it's about the tone and feeling of these and how it changes and evolves as they go along from day to day. I know you'll get it. I have faith in you.
...A Story of A Week Away
Malcolm Continues..
The Flowering PastThere is no poetry when you live there.
Those stones are yours, those noises are your mind,
The forging thunderous trams and streets that bind
You to the dreamed-of bar where sits despair
Are trams and streets: poetry is otherwhere.
The cinema fronts and shops once left behind
And mourned, are mourned no more. Strangely unkind
Seem all new landmarks of the now and here.
But move you toward New Zealand or the Pole,
Those stones will blossom and the noises sing,
And trams will wheedle to the sleeping child
That never rests, whose ship will always roll,
That never can come home, but yet must bring
Strange tropies back to Ilium, and wild!
Wednesday, February 02, 2005
Burning Question of the Day
Am I the only one who thinks that eating an entire can of chick peas for lunch IS entirely normal?It's nature's perfect food. Even the cat likes it.
Year of the Rooster
The sign of the Rooster indicates a person who is hard-working and definite about their decisions. Roosters are not afraid to speak their minds and can therefore sometimes come across as boastful. They make good restaurant owners and world travellers.
People born in the Year of the Rooster are deep thinkers, capable, and talented. They like to be busy and are devoted beyond their capabilities and are deeply disappointed if they fail.
People born in the Rooster Year are often a bit eccentric, and often have rather difficult relationship with others. They always think they are right and usually are! They frequently are loners and though they give the outward impression of being adventurous, they are timid. Rooster people's emotions like their fortunes, swing very high to very low. They can be selfish and too outspoken, but are always interesting and can be extremely brave.
Roosters are very loyal individuals. They do not like dishonesty or mockery of any sort. They are blunt, up front and honest people and expect those around them to be the same.
Well, there you have it. Actually quite a bit more accurate than my horoscope. The rest are here. Which one are you?
One more tiny excerpt...
Horses are energetic spouses who fall in love quite rapidly. Along with their spontaneity comes a bit of impatience and they demonstrate that when they meet someone they want to be involved with. They throw all of themselves into a relationship, sometimes losing tiny bits and pieces of themselves along the way. However, a light at the end of the tunnel: in adulthood Horses are more stable and thus their adult relationships are more successful.
...Guess whoooooo? I'll give you three guesses.
The first two don't count.
I swear to god, first song to play:
..the trust of a woman in his hand
but he was a little boy, not a man
you loved him stronger than he could feel
yeah he was wrapped up in himself like an orange peel..
...When Meeting Malcolm
He Tells A Story...
NocturneThis evening Venus sings alone
And homeward feathers stir like silk
Like the dress of a multitudinous ghost
The pinions tear through a sky like milk.
Seagulls all soon to be turned to stone
That seeking I lose beyond the trail
In the woods that I and my ignorance own
Where together we walk on our hands and knees
Together go walking beneath the pale
Of a beautiful evening loved the most
And yet this evening is my jail
And policemen glisten in the trees.
Tuesday, February 01, 2005
I Yearn For the Truth...
The First Time
(beware: mortgagey things, which has given me a rash)Fact: I require (between paying off debt, a Canada-tanks shit-that's-my-mortgage nest-egg, a couple ME things and enough travelling money for 7 months) roughly $35,000 for the Airborne Pathojen 2006™ tour. And considering we all know I'm right fucking behind in everything at this point, let's say I can catch up the worst stuff by March 1... just for the sake of argument.
So, $35,000, ten months. Yessiree, I did say 10 months. Not factoring in whatever I can sell that I have left to sell by then.
By living the way I am (RV, low bills, very low bills, no more cigarettes at 8 bucks a pack, a library card and you), I can save $1100 a month. Unbelievable, I know.
So, that's..... er..... $11,000.
My Astrology Zone horoscope for February says...
You have become a lean, mean money machine. When have I ever said that, dear Cancer? Not lately, that's for sure! But you've never had aspects as stunning as those on tap this month, either! This same eighth house that is so lucky for you also rules money from insurance companies, legal settlements and divorce proceedings, so you may benefit this month through one of those areas. Have I not named an area that seems a likely source of gain? There are others to consider. This part of your chart rules windfalls, so you might win a glorious prize (buy raffle tickets!) or receive a lavish gift.
Since this is a house that rules "two-some" money, you may also benefit financially in an outstanding way from your spouse. Or, you may clean up as a result of work your agent or representative does for you now. Teamwork will really pay off this month!
The eighth house rules other kinds of funds, too. If you apply for a mortgage, refinancing plan, venture capital, bank loan, or tax refund, you may be pleased with the results. Or, you may be the recipient of an inheritance. All are favored now.
Today, armed with the absolutely outrageous quote from my current bank (to whom I pay $30-40 a month in account fees but who have been incredible, although I think it's time to divorce them) and it's monthly interest rate of 6 to 7.1, I trotted off to see a nice man known as a mortgage broker today.
Expressing my shock (I know, I'm so freaking naive) that my very own bank (Credit Union, three employees) would send such shitty rates, My LMB (lovely mortgage broker) explained the whole, but you need to call them and then negotiate and they might still give you a shitty rate and so then you shop around while lowering your credit rating everytime someone checks it theory.
Seriously, can we just not be a little more honest?
I've been told I'm a little too honest but jeebus, middle ground, people, middle ground thisiswhatswrongwiththeworldIMHO.
Also, apparantly, as an evil landlord I must now have something known as a rental property mortgage, which - wouldn't ya just know it - lowers the percentage you can get for an equity take out. And jacks the CMHC insurance rate to a whopping 4pointsomething percent. (ie: put 15,000 on my mortgage, pay $5,000 of it for insurance).
LMB advised against that.
I'm surprised he didn't also advise against applying for that gun licence I've been putting off.
To cut an even longer story short - I switch only what's owing to someone 'nicer' for a variable prime minus 2.75 or something for the first 6 months and then minus .357 or something after that (for god's sake, I understand none of this shit), take the $1,000 cash back they offer (god knows why) and then apply for a second mortgage for the rest of it.
A second mortgage. Cause the first one's not good enough, I suppose.
Does any of this make any sense to any of you cause I can sure as hell tell ya, the rash gets nastier as I type.
And all that rigamorale puts me $9,000 short.
Hopefully, my slap-dash-dandy financial buddy-old-pal in Calgary can invest what's left after I pay the credit card debt off for a good rate. Second job, anyone? Trade the car in for a motorbike, after all? Eat food that doesn't require propane for cooking?
Someone better die so my horoscope comes true. Although the sheer panic of the thought of not getting any money at all was pretty nasty. And, yes I know some of you lovely helpful people will want to tell me the 400 ways that are better but, due to someone who utterly shredded my life 11 years ago, my options are limited. But I appreciate the thought. I do. Have you made a will yet?
Tomorrow, another installment of the Malcolm.
I'm going out to off someone. If I can find someone who's leaving me money, that is, cause I don't think I can cut anymore corners out here in the boonies. And don't say internet, cause I don't pay for it, nyah, nyah.
And oh, right... I was waiting on the money thing before telling you that ..I'm leaving North America the week of January 7th, 2006.
You've been warned. Don't blame me if you're still in the country when my plane touches down.
Poetry's Not Literal And Yet,
There is A Method to My Malcolm...
For the Love of DyingThe tortures of hell are stern, their fires burn fiercely.
Yet vultures turn against the air more beautifully
than seagulls float downwind in cool sunlight,
or fans in asylums spin a loom of fate
for hope which never ventured up so high
as life's deception, astride the vulture's flight.
If death can fly, just for the love of flying,
What might not life do, for the love of dying?
Monday, January 31, 2005
It is Malcolm Lowry Week
...Among Other Things
So. There've been some changes 'round here. Well, not "here" per se but *taps chest* "here" instead. And of course there's a long freakin' post about it but I'm not going to post it today. I'm tired of myself and the pathways in my mind. I'm tired of looking only inward these days. oh, ho, don't get me wrong, I'm still focussed completely upon myself, but now, it's a little more exterior. And someday soon, there'll be an unexpected phone call of my own that I can shift focus for. That will be a start and it's the best I can do at this turning in the road.
Diet changes? Check. Exercise every day no matter what? Check. Get some books and work on the habitual anger I seem to have learned / been dealing with lately (ie: ever since the cancer)? Check. Recognize, admit and start rolling the idea around in my head that it's not RG that needs to come off the plate, but Matt? Not only the NotMatt who surrounds me like a fog but the real and physical Matt? Check. Get some books and work on my memory since I can't very well travel around the world as a directionally dysfunctional human being with shite memory? Check. Read more poetry? Learn over again how to actively and consciously appreciate what's going on around me? Start again to look outside myself? Check. Check. Almost check.
I find out this week whether or not the kindly mortgage brokers can get me what I want (ie: equity take out) to partially fund the Airborne Pathojen 2006™ tour. This is by no means a given and very important because if it falls through, I've changed my entire life, sold 85% of my possessions, rented out my home on a lease and am living in an RV for absolutely no good reason at all.
And oh, yes, the first of a week of Malcolm Lowry....
No Still Path
Alas, there is no still path in my soul,
I being evil, none of memory;
No path, untenanted by friend or ghoul,
Where those I have loved best touch wings and sigh
And passing enter silently the place
Of dream, illumined by bright fruit, and light,
That circles from the always brightest face
Of love itself, and dissipates the night.
There is no path, there is no path at all,
Unless perhaps where abstract things have gone
And precepts rise and metaphysics fall,
And principles abandoned stumble on.
No path, but as it were a river in spate
Where drowning forms, downswept, gesticulate.
Go, Malcolm.
After the Dream...
This morning's horoscope
Some vivid and intense dreams could reveal a lot about yourself and your own motivations, which might increase your self-awareness and thus make everything easier for you. The drive to succeed, both in material and spiritual matters is likely to play a powerful role in everything you do today, JENNIFER. Onward and upward!Death, Your Own
I know that dreaming about death signals a new beginning or a new direction but frankly, I could do without it.I dreamt that I was being put humanely and painlessly to death. I don't know why. If you didn't show up for some reason they came to you and since you'd been asked to prepare a bomb beforehand for this very eventuality, they blew you up.
My 'funeral' was at 2 pm, my death to be at three. Mom forgot to pick me up (which she did a few times in childhood) and going downstairs to the amphitheatre, where I knew no one who had shown up, I picked up a mic and said, "Well, then, just one more important event in my life that didn't quite go the way it was supposed to." People I didn't know laughed.
After, Mom and I retired so I could hastily scribble down the names of the people who got my stuffed animals (friends. childhood?) and a couple pieces of jewelry (Matt), she left. Around 3 pm I realized that no one was coming to get me because I was supposed to take care of getting to my own death myself. I thought maybe I should call 'them' but then I realized all I had to do was wait and they would come for me.
I thought that yet again, not having enough information or asking the right questions, even in circumstances where I just couldn't have known any better - seemed to be the norm for me right to the end and caused me so much more pain than necessary while everyone else just wandered off, forgot about me and blithely went about their business.
And then I woke up. And now I'm telling you to get it out of my head. I'm just not so sure I was really dreaming though.
Sunday, January 30, 2005
The Monday Bumper Sticker #5
lyric at post:
..that golden one leads a double life
you'll find out..
Short & Snappy Drive By Post #14
But I *Work* There, Your Honour
One of the cast members from Ally McBeal is filming a mini-series in our old ER where I work called Terminal City. I was all excited until I checked the cast list.... I'm sorry but I just can't see him as stalking material.
lyric at post:
..I stand underneath street lights dreaming of the moon
it is rising in a desert a life I never know
taken away and now I'm walking by myself..
