Life Update

Hello everyone.

I felt like updating this blog today. I don’t have much specifically to say. I’ve had some requests from folks to update and put up some fresh writing. Unfortunately, I don’t have any of that for you. I haven’t had much time to write, which I will tell you all about. Thankfully, I’ve been getting a steady stream of visitors to the blog even with my absence, but honestly, it has much more to do with the Taylor Mali poem I posted back in April than my fans demanding updates.

On the writing front, I’ve started a writer’s collective here in Ottawa. As of this writing, it has 113 members and it’s eating all my time. I created the group during a “lonely writer moment” and it exploded. I thought there may be 20 people with only a fraction of active members. Instead, I have over 100 and the participation and enthusiasm of this group has floored me. It’s a great problem to have so, it’s hard to complain about it. Unfortunately, between this and working full time, I’ve had very little time to actually do my own writing. This is where my time has primarily been but, as we pass the three month mark, I’m getting a lot more people from the membership to volunteer to help me. This has been a tremendous help and I only expect it to get better. I keep waiting for this thing to lose its steam, but it’s going strong so far. I’ve met some great people through this (the ultimate goal) and everyone is being so, so kind. It’s a little overwhelming but in the best possible way.

Otherwise, my life has not changed significantly. My work is all consuming as ever. I already feel like Christmas is over, but I’m looking forward to the five days I’ll be off over the holidays. I really need the rest. I’ve officially enrolled in my first Masters course at Griffith University. I’ll be completing my Masters of Aviation Management online for the next two years (at least). (If you’re feeling your stress levels increase just reading this, imagine how I feel!)

I hope to maybe start doing writing prompts or something similar here again soon, if only to get my pen to paper again. If always had great response and support from this blog, far more than I ever expected, and I want to keep up my end of the bargain better than I have been.

No promises, though.

Advertisements

For the Life of Me by Taylor Mali

One of my favourite poems from one of my favourite slam poets. You can see him perform the poem on YouTube.

For the Life of Me by Taylor Mal

I’m trying to remember the name
of the character I used to
pretend to be when I woed you
The one with the voice like a driveway

Who you said made you laugh
but on whom I think we both know
you had developed a bit of a crush

So unlike the real me, he was
based on this ex-Dallas Cowboy I knew
in graduate shool
who owned a liquor store and a sunlamp

“You’re the kind of woman that
makes a man want to get in touch
with his masculine side and
I don’t think I can love you any more,”

That’s about the dumbest thing
I ever made him say
This character who you said you loved
and made you laugh every time

and whose name I cannot
for the life of me
remember

And speaking of time

I found a digital watch in a bag
that I thought was mine but
was yours although it’s mine now
I guess

and it said, of course, 12:34
1-2-3-4
the magic minute of childhood

of course, that wasn’t the time
at the time, though it is now
the clocks having changed twice
since the day you died

and anyway, that was the time that I said
I was going to come back and
visit you if I died first
remember arguing about that?

about who was going to die first?
me pointing out the history of
cancer in my family

you, not pointing out the history of anything
just taking a long drag of your cigarette
as if to say, “hello? cigarettes!”

I’m willing to admit that
you are right, because
I am the one that is left
although I still think you cheated

and speaking of suicide

I once asked you whether you
ever thought about it and
you said, “no,
you’re not that lucky”

in an answer I recognize now
as being more loaded than
any pistol we never kept under the mattress
which I had to give away anyway

and now I wonder that if you
did come back from the dead
whether I could stop myself from saying,
“See? Apparently I am that lucky.”

speaking of luck

you always said I sucked it
right out of the room
but that was right after you
found out that the word

“Squinters” S-Q-U-I-N-T-E-R-S
“those who squint”
is an acceptable word in Scrabble
lost a turn

I banked 144 points
the overturned board scattered
most of the tiles and there are
still letters that I cannot find

and speaking of letters I never found

you never left me one
never sent me one
never left me a note,
or a sign

as I boxed and gave away
your clothes and packed
up the apartment I kept thinking
that I would find something

all last fall my breath
arrived each day
with the mail

I still think sometimes it might arrive
a padded envelope without
a zip code or missing a stamp
something filled with all the

missing letters
but for now I would be content
to remember the name of the man
who said, “I don’t think I can love you any more”

That man who you said you loved
who I pretended to be
and whose name I cannot remember
for the life of me