Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Song: One Lane Bridge

Idling on a one lane bridge
Unmindful of the race
I tripped upon your whisper
Dissolved in your embrace
And then you served me seconds
Though I only begged a taste
Now I wonder where I'd wandered
Had I never seen your face

Idling on a one lane bridge
Too weary for the chase
I contemplate the river
A path to some far place
And the shackles of my own design
That bind me to this base
While I wonder where I'd wandered
Had I never shared your space

And I won't say those words
And you will let me know

Is this structure solid
And does the river flow
Or is it me who's drifting
How can I really know

Idling on a one lane bridge
Just gazing into space
And the shadows on your features
The firelight displaced
This dire infatuation
Is anything but chaste
Still I wonder where I'd wandered
Had I never known your grace

And I won't say those words
And you will let me know

Is this structure solid
And does the river flow
Or is it me who's drifting
How can I really know


Is this structure solid
And does the river flow
Or is it we who're drifting
Who could really know

Idling on a one lane bridge
A crippling lack of haste
Won't serve to span the chasm
Revelation won't erase
Oh to find that golden land
And leave without a trace
To weave the light and darkness
And blanket this disgrace

And I won't fall in love with you
Unless you wish it so
And I won't say those words to you
Until you let me know


And I won't say those words
And you will let me know

Monday, September 21, 2009

Just down the road

I have not seen my illicit sweetheart for many weeks. Since I Barbecued a fine dinner and we bobbed in an absent host's hot tub before reclining on the deck. I re-dressed of course but hid the other's clothing. I can be devilish that way.

We had planned to get together yesterday, finally. I phoned in the morning as instructed, left a message and endured long anticipation. Perhaps I have not evolved much, in the realm of love, since my first high-school infatuation. Perhaps not much at all.

The call was not returned until close to midnight.

"Hey! I'm just down the road from you! At [the friend's]!"


"Come on over! Bring some drinks. You have something to drink, no?"

So I had been forgotten about. Until the liquor ran dry. And why should that surprise? I'm not young. I'm not fun. I don't dance; not really. I am just the quiet stable one. Earnest and kind; generous; grateful; worshipful. Always there when needed but no party animal.

"No. I have no booze."

"You must have something! Bring it over. Come now. I won't be here long. I must go home soon!"

"Stop here, then, On your way home." I don't want to see you there, in front of others, where I'm forbidden to touch you.

"No. I can't. When I leave I'm going straight home."

"You could stop here for five minutes." Long enough for kisses and hugs. And wandering fingers on that bewitching youthful skin.

"No. I'm going straight home." Just like that.

That same old dark suspicion, rarely dragged into the light. Dare I say it - Am I being used? And then of course the still darker suspicion. Am I the user? What interest would I ever have taken if not for that gorgeous smile and gorgeous... everything else?

Making use of people. Isn't that the hallmark of society; our strength as a species? Leveraging one another? Cooperation, give and take, mutual parasitism. Such different connotations but might one propose they are different flavours of the same dish?

What might set such perspectives apart? Honesty, perhaps? To give and to take without false motive; without a rosy film; without posturing. Is that what makes it good and not evil? Makes it love and not... usage?

If so then what a hurdle. For honesty is a lovely idea but a phantom. The filters between instinct and consciousness are so hopelessly unnavigable and wickedly invisible and to know this is to ever mistrust myself.

If I'm to be disillusioned in this matter, let it be now! I might be happier to disengage from this infatuation; even more free.

If my love were 'true' perhaps I would have walked over there last night. But I did not go.

Perhaps the process has begun.

Monday, September 14, 2009


Why the new look?

Because much has changed since January 2006 and I need the licence to reinvent this space's focus; it's priorities, in order to make it vital again.

Because I'm rarely inclined to wear the cynic's hat anymore and I don't have the heart to force it.

Because things are happening and the time has come to promote this space from it's catch-all status; a bottom drawer of a too-tall chest of writing outlets. It shall begin taking on the specific purposes intended for it for some time now.

Because I can not bear another moment of procrastination. There have always been excuses; doors just on the next horizon; but these will always be. To hell with them. No more tough talk without action. I will fight this war on every front and win or fail and account it honestly. And to those who call yourself my friend, be true by judging me harshly. Kind excuses are no help to me in the long run.

Because I am a new day rising and so are you.

Do or do not. There is no try.
- Yoda (film: The Empire Strikes Back)

Don't you see you are the Universe to yourself. You carry your fortunes in your own hand.
- Ralph Waldo Emerson

Become the man you were born to be.
- Lord Elrond (Lord of the Rings, J R R Tolkien)

Shit or get off the pot.
- Crazy Bernie