Monthly Archives: November 2010

Quite Convinced That You Have To

Sitting here, quite convinced that I have to.

A pretty girl joined the communist armed forces. They said she helped the farmers harvest their corn while teaching them to do the math. After all, she was a former scholar. She treated the rebels’  wounds. Treated them until it was her time to bleed from a bullet that penetrated her chest and existed through her nape.

She laid there quite convinced that she had to.

A single mom promised her mom that she wouldn’t get herself pregnant again. They believed her for she looked as innocent as an angel. Turned out she was a heavy smoker and owed a lot of money to  the cash register. Turned out she was pregnant with another baby and had a married Muslim security guard for a lover. He said he impregnated her precisely because he loved her.

She loved him quite convinced that he loved her too.

A wealthy couple brought their children to Canada. They were thinking about their future, and the future of their sons and daughters, and the future of the sons and daughters of their sons and daughters. From air-conditioned offices to sweaty warehouses, from quiet nights to livingroom skirmishes. It was quite a gamble.

They were quite convinced of the money.

A woman did some scandalous things not too long ago. Been ashamed of them forever. She joined a high-end church and called on others to follow her footsteps. They flooded the social networking site with Bible excerpts.

She was quite convinced of her salvation.

A sector of believers slammed a bill promoting  the dissemination of contraceptives to the population. The priests preached. The non-believers mocked. A man dressed up as a Spanish colonial era dissident and pumped the uproar to fever pitch.

They were quite convinced of the issue.

A hulk of a man decided he wanted more physical challenge to test himself. He climbed a mountain, conquered it, then moved on to the next peak. Pretty soon he had a mountain of a list of mountains he trekked. He wants more.

He was quite convinced of the experience.

A white-striped brown hamster stepped inside the wheel. It has grown too big for it but it ran its heart out anyway. It ran and ran all night and only stopped for a nibble and a sip of water. Didn’t even give its white hamster partner any chance to take its turn. After all, it was only needed for mating.

It was quite convinced of its necessity.

I find myself in an air-conditioned office for the upteenth time. I dream of a pretty girl in Canada who was once a heavy smoker every weekend. I have mountains of plans to follow her footsteps but all I can do today is read the daily preachers on the social networking site. I occupy my chair like a hamster occupies the wheel.

Sitting here, quite convinced that I have to.

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I’m Sad

Raise your hand if you’re sad.
We should all drink some beer together.
We’re sad my friend,

you and I.
We should all drink some beer together.
Man, I want to drink some beer with all of you.

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Mr. Jackknife

1

Mr. Jackknife was a regular Jack, doing dirty jobs in a Japanese factory. Everybody who knew him knew him to be a jolly good fella. And Mr. Jackknife was–until his daughter, fair Jackie, came along.

2

See, Mr. Jackknife was indeed a jolly good fella even before he moved his family on a jet to Japan. He was a jeweler in his homeland, respected by every average Joe. For Mr. Jackknife was always giving, jovially giving his money to every average Joe. And so every average Joe was jam-packed in debt with Mr. Jackknife. But he didn’t mind as long as he pleased Jesus in his heart. And everything would have been all right until his daughter, fair Jackie, came along.

‘Cause Mr. Jackknife was a jack of all trades but he was best in giving and pleasing Jesus in his heart. Jolly as he was however, everyone would jump in fear whenever he’s jittery mad. For the truth was that no one could really jest at Jackknife since he could hire just about anybody to do what’s bloody just. And to this jack of all trades, only Jesus was the judge.

3

But there was Jackie.

Jackie used to be the joy of the family for she was the fairest among the babies. So baby Jackie turned into a lady, and, as was expected, became the fairest among the ladies. Oh, you’ll never guess how many John, Jacob and Jude fell in deep love for this gem of a woman named Jackie.

But fair Jackie had the heart of a free jay, always seeking the bluest skies for the most joyful of joys. And so it was that fair Jackie, quite amusingly, fell in love with no John, Jacob or Jude–but with a bottle of gin that we all know can be really, really, really good. Continue reading

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You’re Right, You’re Right

Oh, you’re right. Yeah, you’re right.
You haul big boxes on your shoulders every night,
Bruise them and heave some more boulders.
Oh, you’re right. Pain makes you right.

Girl, you’re the boss. Yeah, you’re the leader.
You strut around making friends with higher-ups,
Clowning around while whipping underlings.
Girl, you’re the boss. Two grinning faces slathered in sauce.

Man, you’re the go-getter. Flying to Finland for your future.
Give yourself a few months of utter failure,
You’re gonna come back to your homeland a sleazy winner.
Man, you’re the cash cow. Milk yourself and spill more grand!

Boy, you’re cool. Look at that! You’re nobody’s fool.
Hitting the road in your sleek, sleek car
After getting hit from behind by every Mr. Johnson.
Boy, you’re cool. You surely earned that tsk, tsk tool.

Guys, you’re on top of the world. Can’t see nothing but birds!
Directing your little armies in your dingy office
What more can you ask for? When your knickers strike fear?
Guys, you’re the lords. So go and make ’em sweep the floors!

Oh, people, you’re right, you’re right.
You’ve been through hell and back and now you’re hell as tight.
Kick ’em in their asses, these pansy Nancys
Like you kissed Mr. Johnson’s hiney before you turned holies!

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Her Station

She’s there
in my burger

telling me how heavenly
this is,
this cheesy cheeseburger is,
when our bodies are already dried
from the liquor
and the blabber
of the night.

She lives
in the sooty streets
asking me how come I sing
every morning and
I won’t let up ’til we part

in the train station
where I kiss her cheek
a single
stolen
time.

She waits
still at the same spot
in the mall
where we used to wait
without any guarantee
that the other one will arrive
saying their sorrys,
prodding to hurry
to catch the evening TV.

She’s there.

I know

that she dreams of me
half a world away
as I live to sleep
and take my turn
come dark
to dream of her.

I see
her in every bare wall
and each busy page,
in all things the calendar
throws my way,
and in the nothingness
my eyelids and my bed
conspire to envelope me with;

and in my fingers she used to hold,
and in my feet she still adore,
in my face she used to measure,
and my eyes that used to behold

her. She’s there. She’s everywhere

there’s nothing and something and anything!
I lie and I walk and run in circles
along her planetary rings,
hopping and skipping in our dreams,
wishing and watching our favorite films,

making it to the next stop,
checking myself if I should laugh,
hoping we wouldn’t

drop

it.

‘Cause while she’s always a step ahead,
a safe distance where I can’t
smell her hair,
I know I have to keep on going,
keep on eating my cheeseburgers,
walk my way down busy streets
across malls, over calendars
and ’round planetary rings
once more.
And I know I have to keep on humming
the silent song in my chest
for I can’t rest
’til she’s back
in the train station
where I used to kiss her cheek
a single
stolen
time.

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Filed under Love, Poems

Spot On

It’s not enough, never.

You don’t have enough sleep. You don’t have enough dreams. You don’t have enough time to get your wits back before making an imperfect cup o’ joe. ‘Cause there’s not enough sugar even though you thought there should be. But you’re wrong and you discover that a split second after you sip it. Not cool enough. You burn your tongue and the roof of your mouth.

An automatic chewing machine, you go through the mediocre breakfast lacking in salt. Take a shower. Look at the mirror. Not enough muscles but more than enough muffin top. Definitely not enough hair at parts you would appreciate it growing, more than enough at the rest. Shaving will have to be put off for another month or two to the inconvenience of some people.

God there are so many cars, rusty and new on the streets and highways, but somehow, you just can’t get a decent ride to the office. The train doesn’t have enough space but it’s overflowing with acrid human juice. The bus doesn’t have a seat for you but it’s got a lot of rattle to make you puke your mediocre breakfast out. Continue reading

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