So in case you missed the first 2 posts, the idea of these posts is to put some of my older work on the internet for posterity. Some are good. Some are bad. All are unedited. How cool is that?
Untitled Haikus, Undated
The seasons fly by
Like a flickering flower
Eternal beauty
Dancing gracefully about
The infinite dance of time
The sun of fall sets
Giving rise to skys of white
As the snow falls down
Watch the snow fall lovingly
In white there is purity
Crisp and clean the leaves
Fall freely from the tall trees
In my eye, beauty
Touch not this place, viceful man
Turn away your hate and destruction
I like to eat cheese
Yellow, white, holey, stinky
Cheese and ham tastes good
Fast, faster, go, go!
Fly as fast as the wind blows
Fly home to the sun
Day dream with me dear
Walk the land of the sleeping
Be free, as the wolf
Retrospective Notes - Again, I think these are hit or miss. I'd also like to point out that "viceful," is not a word. At the very least, I had a laugh at the cheese haiku. Comedy gold, that one.
Footsteps To Hell, Undated
I need my words most
Just as they escape my tongue
And as the air escapes my lungs
I propose a modest toast.
To the lives I couldn't lead
To the mouths I couldn't feed
To all the souls in need
And to all the men that bleed
Your words are lost to tides of hate
Bundled up and tossed away
But they still ask you to stay
And continue a 1-sided debate
Left and right, the locks start
Lick up your door, lock up your child
Lock up your car, lock up your smile
Close your eyes and lock up your heart
I tell myself there's more to life
But the war-path of a nation
Has lead to the realization
The people are under the knife
I am not my leader
And I am not afraid
Of the price to pay
For the mistakes he's made
As history records with unblinking eye
A simple truth is revealed
Though our differences conceal
After famine, war, and zeal
After death by flesh and steel
After downing your last meal
remember
we are all human.
Retrospective Comments - I might have been a little bit frustrated with the administration of "W" at the time of writing this. I don't think the title really matches the product of the poem, but I still agree with the message. As I've said about previous works, I think some of the passages are better than others. This might be a concept worth revisiting.
(The) Hell In Me, Undated
I found my secret place
I've found my way home
No one else is welcome
When I crawl back to my hole
With chain around my heart
Barbed wired around my mind
All guns at the ready
Held by the ties that bind
A man called "disgrace"
The one who walks alone
If an angel stole your prayers
A demon commands your soul
Flung into the fire
No one wishes you well
God smiles and says
"Welcome, friends, to hell"
Light encroaches on the dark
When there's bones to grind
Even in eternal mercy
His is till a light that blinds
Spread out your black wings
Sound the demon's horn
With fang and claw we smile
Earning even Satan's scorn
At some point we all give in
At some point we all sin
At some point the mask falls off
Revealing a hell within
Retrospective Notes - This one also plays with the idea of good versus evil, light versus dark. If I were to write this poem again, I would be much more careful about word choice. I think the biggest problem with this work is that it seems very inconsistent. It doesn't seem to have any logical flow. I couldn't really reconnect with this one, but I think comparing this work against some of the others shows my growth as a poet.
Trouble In Paradise, Undated (but probably more recent than anything else I've put down so far).
Hold me like a newborn
And (Cuz) I'll be gone tomorrow
The sands of time slip away -
How many have I borrowed?
I'm waiting for a sun
That will not rise
Watching for the ground
From the sky
Retrospective Comments - It's hard to be too retrospective on this one, because it was written so recently, but I can say that I really do like the last bit, "watching for the ground..." I like the sense of flight I get from that line.
---
This officially concludes, "strolling down memory lane." I hope you enjoyed the trip. Don't expect to get anything more like this though...I think I've pretty thoroughly cleaned out my old stuff (minus things that were honestly not worth posting). I actually had a lot of fun with these. It was really refreshing to go back and see what I was thinking and writing about over the years. I even feel inspired to write more, new works. Wish me luck.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Strolling Down Memory Lane, Part 2
As mentioned in the previous post, this entry will consist of old work I found in various boxes, bins, and closets. Some of the work could not be posted because of format (EX: drawings), and some of it was just too bad to see the light of day. Everything you do see, though, is completely unedited. You've been warned.
3 Small Poems From A Paper Table Cloth, Undated
The movement of time is but a stream
Ebbing forward at its own steady pace
Leaving mankind to his own lucid dreams
Lovingly sewn by the creator's lace
---
Live is a web in which all men are caught
For who can refute the passing of time?
The soul, and mind, and body are pulled taught (should be taut);
As all sing alone with the watcher's rhyme.
---
On the long path, you can never go back
An inward glance is all you can afford
Before you are swept away by your track
And each memory is carefully stored.
Retrospective Comments - These are interesting because they were done at dinner a few years ago. There was a paper table cloth, and I couldn't resist the opportunity to write something interesting. I don't remember if it devolved into a "poetry contest," with my dad, but I suppose these are interesting enough to merit posting them.
Angels And Demons, Undated
Angels and demons waltz their petty dance
Waving the black banner of destruction
For as the sword and shield they romance
In love and power, there is seduction.
Beware the demon, cursed wings of black
Cloaked in darkness and tattooes of red ink
Your misconceptions happily attacked -
Even if from the shinning truth you slink.
Hark! The angel from the heavens descends
A glistening star to outshine the sun
How much on the demon does he depend?
One without the other is simply none
Who can discern darkness without the light?
Who's hand will you take in marriage tonight?
Retrospective Comments - I didn't count the syllables, but this appears to have the form of a sonnet. I seems consistent with a theme I've been fond of over the years: a question of who is good, who is evil, and who you can trust. If I were to write this sonnet again, I probably wouldn't use the word marriage at the end. I'd like to think my writing style has evolved and matured over the years. (Failing that, I think it's become a little more conscientious of word choice.)
From Sunrise To Sunset, Undated
It is a new day; the sun is reborn
Yawning, pusing away the sleepy stars
The watcher blows the celestial horn
Resonating even to lands afar
But soon the morning gives way to mid-day
And in the heat of the sun we toil
For every little bill we must pay
The sun presses on, forever loyal
Pray for absolution as the sun sets
And the coming judgement of the twilight
Forget not your sins, for get not your debts
As the sun fights setting with failing might
For now the light must give into the night
And over this world the sun looses (should be loses) sight
Retrospective Commentary - I see what I was trying to do with this one. I was trying to portray the human "experience," as passing times of day. After re-reading this one, I think the imagery and language was a little inconsistent. I had a good laugh at the fact that I was still having trouble telling the difference between, "looses" and "loses" at this point in my life. I know the difference now, but it's just one of those little quirks I had back then.
Untitled Three Part Poem, Undated
Soon comes the time of reckoning
Sun lost under a cloud of ash
And with the apocalypse beckoning
Man, woman, child: dawn your mask
Some smile under the demon's gaze
Grandeur reduced to dust
Eyes deceived by a hellish haze
Caught in a web of distrust
Arise, erect the monolith of the foul
Sanguine eyes to mesmerize
Upon each face a tormented scowl
And false words to hpnotize
Lash the lands with thirsty fires
A prophet's glare upon us all
And upon a crux of dam'ned liars
Soon, soon we all shall fall
A plain once golden, soiled
A blood-soaked premonition
The fate over which we toiled
Send down the path of perdition
---
But what of the end
Of the storm of souls?
As we, our purity rend
And the reaper takes his toll
When fire be quenched
And the dust made rise
In ash, still drenched
Come forth inhuman cries
Demons under moonlight
Find unwilling prey
There is no chance to fight
In the Scarlet Plays
Limbs, eyes, hearts be free
To dance among the air
Pleasure is as pleasure be
Easily ensnared
And as the souls are collected
Cursed, craven, consumed
From safe-haven rejected
Can we never be exhumed?
---
Let them sing our ill-fated dirge
For we yet have the light
In passion and purity's surge
Cast off the endless night!
Angels' song and angels' steel
Descending from the sky
Bet even as the demons reel
Angels too must die
In time the world is purified
Wounded angels' work complete
Hell on earth rectified
So humanity may repeat
Retrospective Comments - I'm not sure exactly what to say about this one. I think there are some interesting ideas and images, but on the whole I didn't reconnect with it after a re-read. All in all, I think this is a concept worth revisiting. I'm not sure, however, that this poem is worth revising.
After looking at the preview of this post, it would seem as though it is a little bit on the long side. That, of course, can only mean one thing - time for a part 3!
3 Small Poems From A Paper Table Cloth, Undated
The movement of time is but a stream
Ebbing forward at its own steady pace
Leaving mankind to his own lucid dreams
Lovingly sewn by the creator's lace
---
Live is a web in which all men are caught
For who can refute the passing of time?
The soul, and mind, and body are pulled taught (should be taut);
As all sing alone with the watcher's rhyme.
---
On the long path, you can never go back
An inward glance is all you can afford
Before you are swept away by your track
And each memory is carefully stored.
Retrospective Comments - These are interesting because they were done at dinner a few years ago. There was a paper table cloth, and I couldn't resist the opportunity to write something interesting. I don't remember if it devolved into a "poetry contest," with my dad, but I suppose these are interesting enough to merit posting them.
Angels And Demons, Undated
Angels and demons waltz their petty dance
Waving the black banner of destruction
For as the sword and shield they romance
In love and power, there is seduction.
Beware the demon, cursed wings of black
Cloaked in darkness and tattooes of red ink
Your misconceptions happily attacked -
Even if from the shinning truth you slink.
Hark! The angel from the heavens descends
A glistening star to outshine the sun
How much on the demon does he depend?
One without the other is simply none
Who can discern darkness without the light?
Who's hand will you take in marriage tonight?
Retrospective Comments - I didn't count the syllables, but this appears to have the form of a sonnet. I seems consistent with a theme I've been fond of over the years: a question of who is good, who is evil, and who you can trust. If I were to write this sonnet again, I probably wouldn't use the word marriage at the end. I'd like to think my writing style has evolved and matured over the years. (Failing that, I think it's become a little more conscientious of word choice.)
From Sunrise To Sunset, Undated
It is a new day; the sun is reborn
Yawning, pusing away the sleepy stars
The watcher blows the celestial horn
Resonating even to lands afar
But soon the morning gives way to mid-day
And in the heat of the sun we toil
For every little bill we must pay
The sun presses on, forever loyal
Pray for absolution as the sun sets
And the coming judgement of the twilight
Forget not your sins, for get not your debts
As the sun fights setting with failing might
For now the light must give into the night
And over this world the sun looses (should be loses) sight
Retrospective Commentary - I see what I was trying to do with this one. I was trying to portray the human "experience," as passing times of day. After re-reading this one, I think the imagery and language was a little inconsistent. I had a good laugh at the fact that I was still having trouble telling the difference between, "looses" and "loses" at this point in my life. I know the difference now, but it's just one of those little quirks I had back then.
Untitled Three Part Poem, Undated
Soon comes the time of reckoning
Sun lost under a cloud of ash
And with the apocalypse beckoning
Man, woman, child: dawn your mask
Some smile under the demon's gaze
Grandeur reduced to dust
Eyes deceived by a hellish haze
Caught in a web of distrust
Arise, erect the monolith of the foul
Sanguine eyes to mesmerize
Upon each face a tormented scowl
And false words to hpnotize
Lash the lands with thirsty fires
A prophet's glare upon us all
And upon a crux of dam'ned liars
Soon, soon we all shall fall
A plain once golden, soiled
A blood-soaked premonition
The fate over which we toiled
Send down the path of perdition
---
But what of the end
Of the storm of souls?
As we, our purity rend
And the reaper takes his toll
When fire be quenched
And the dust made rise
In ash, still drenched
Come forth inhuman cries
Demons under moonlight
Find unwilling prey
There is no chance to fight
In the Scarlet Plays
Limbs, eyes, hearts be free
To dance among the air
Pleasure is as pleasure be
Easily ensnared
And as the souls are collected
Cursed, craven, consumed
From safe-haven rejected
Can we never be exhumed?
---
Let them sing our ill-fated dirge
For we yet have the light
In passion and purity's surge
Cast off the endless night!
Angels' song and angels' steel
Descending from the sky
Bet even as the demons reel
Angels too must die
In time the world is purified
Wounded angels' work complete
Hell on earth rectified
So humanity may repeat
Retrospective Comments - I'm not sure exactly what to say about this one. I think there are some interesting ideas and images, but on the whole I didn't reconnect with it after a re-read. All in all, I think this is a concept worth revisiting. I'm not sure, however, that this poem is worth revising.
After looking at the preview of this post, it would seem as though it is a little bit on the long side. That, of course, can only mean one thing - time for a part 3!
Strolling Down Memory Lane
So I was cleaning out some of the papers clogging up my drawers, and I've come across a few interesting things. I will post them here, with small prefaces to give an idea of context. Laugh, cry, and be amazed at these...works...in all their uncut glory.
Excerpt From A Letter Written To Myself For English 2 (Sophomore in HS), 9-3-2003
My dream career is as a lead in a popular rock band. Really, I don't want the money or the women, but simply to be able to get messages of hope to the youth.
My ideal mate would be a little *cough* *wink* *nudge* foxy. She'd have a strong will and sense of justice. She'd stick by me even if I was a jerk, but always love me tenderly. We could go anywhere or do anything together, with our hearts as one. Embracing change and the open future set before us. We'd be in love; true love. Even if we were dying, one look in each other's eyes would bring us all the comfort we needed.
Retrospective comments - Note that this was originally in paragraph form, but Blogger apparently doesn't believe in indenting. For the record, those *'d words are actually in the letter. It's kind of interesting. I still remember what I was thinking when I wrote that, which is funny to me. There are a couple of parts that run on, and at least one incomplete sentence...but I guess that can be forgiven. I think it's worth noting that I used the word, "mate," instead of girlfriend, or companion, or what-have-you. Interesting times. There's more to the letter, but I'm not going to include it, because it seems boring and short-sighted.
The Old Man Rap, Undated
We're old men and we can't rap
We fee like our bones will snap
Our hips don't work, and that's not funny
But we'll still pwn your *** there sonny.
We can't even begin to rhyme
We don't know how to stay in time
But get us mad and then you'll see
This foot up your *** there sonny!
GAH! Get off my lawn!
GAH! I'll get my gun!
GAH! Get off my lawn!
GAH! You'd better run!
Retrospective comments - I remember back when I wrote this. It's still terrible. It's the kind of thing that you look back on and just go, "Really? What was I thinking?" If I remember correctly, this is actually the second version of this rap...heaven knows if I'll ever find the original.
Historical CD Project - "WOW! That's What I Call Socialism!" for AP European History. (Sophomore Year, HS)
Featured Artists:
01. - The Fouriers - (The Seas Will Turn To A) Pink Lemonade Serenade
02. - Never Blanc Out - Social Workshop, Never Gonna Stop
03. - Own'en You - Happy Worker = Happy Wallet
04. - PrOuD Ho[R]n - AnArChy 4 the Ma$sEs
05. - Mill-ing About - On Liberty
06. - Etieme Cabaret - Put Your Hands Together (For Communism)
07. - Twistin' Tristan - Financial R-E-S-P-E-C-T
08. - Henri Simon and the Federation of Saints - The Celebration of Industrialization (Hymnal)
09. - The Belgian Boxers Feat. Zoe Gatti - Trance Equality ~Feminist Mix~
10. - Proper Us, Harmony - I Am Woman, Here Me Roar
From the inside cover:
"While there were many utopian socialist bands, each with their own individual ideas, they were united by an intense need to reform the "Status Quo," of European Society, especially in favor of the working class. ... However, socialist music was largely ignored until Marx."
Retrospective Comments - 17 / 20 for lack of historical graphics? BS! I would TOTALLY buy this CD, if CD's weren't a dying medium. All in all, pretty good for having finished it the night before. That's responsibility for you.
Fortune Cookie I Found, Undated
Personal achievement will be your key to happiness.
Retrospective Notes - I didn't write it, so I can't comment. It does have a ring of truth to it, though.
Untitled, Unfinished Poem, Undated.
Heaven's here
To treat you well -
Never mind
The holding cell
Run or scream or
Slip away,
It doesn't matter
Anyway
Light will hold you
Oh so tight and
Drag you out
Of the night
Retrospective Notes - I think the concept is interesting (heaven as hell), but I think the middle section isn't my best work. Interestingly, the piece of paper I found this on also includes early lyrics for the "Force Jansen" song. Go figure!
A Cellophane World, Undated
In our perfect, cellophane world
We are all waiting to be unfurled
From our precisely perfect packagings
And out unsubtle trappings
In our world coated in cellophane
There is simply no room for pain
Man is much too exquisitely packed
To see who he is or what he lacks.
Not a breath of air, just smiles to deceive
Gleefully applied, but never really received
In a world where man's simply lost his head
There is no worry for the dead.
If they are old and tired, send them away
And in a month, a week, no, a day
You'll be blessed with smiles anew
And in time, someone to replace you too.
Retrospective Comments - I'm not sure when I wrote this. I found it in a tub of old papers with some of my late High School (senior) and early college (first quarter) work. I think it has a few interesting observations, and the ending seems reasonably good. It's kind of interesting that this isn't in sonnet form. I was very fond of writing sonnets around that time. Sure, it's a little dark, but so's our world.
I have more material to go through, but since I want to keep my posts from getting too long, I'll stop this one here. Look for part 2...later tonight.
Excerpt From A Letter Written To Myself For English 2 (Sophomore in HS), 9-3-2003
My dream career is as a lead in a popular rock band. Really, I don't want the money or the women, but simply to be able to get messages of hope to the youth.
My ideal mate would be a little *cough* *wink* *nudge* foxy. She'd have a strong will and sense of justice. She'd stick by me even if I was a jerk, but always love me tenderly. We could go anywhere or do anything together, with our hearts as one. Embracing change and the open future set before us. We'd be in love; true love. Even if we were dying, one look in each other's eyes would bring us all the comfort we needed.
Retrospective comments - Note that this was originally in paragraph form, but Blogger apparently doesn't believe in indenting. For the record, those *'d words are actually in the letter. It's kind of interesting. I still remember what I was thinking when I wrote that, which is funny to me. There are a couple of parts that run on, and at least one incomplete sentence...but I guess that can be forgiven. I think it's worth noting that I used the word, "mate," instead of girlfriend, or companion, or what-have-you. Interesting times. There's more to the letter, but I'm not going to include it, because it seems boring and short-sighted.
The Old Man Rap, Undated
We're old men and we can't rap
We fee like our bones will snap
Our hips don't work, and that's not funny
But we'll still pwn your *** there sonny.
We can't even begin to rhyme
We don't know how to stay in time
But get us mad and then you'll see
This foot up your *** there sonny!
GAH! Get off my lawn!
GAH! I'll get my gun!
GAH! Get off my lawn!
GAH! You'd better run!
Retrospective comments - I remember back when I wrote this. It's still terrible. It's the kind of thing that you look back on and just go, "Really? What was I thinking?" If I remember correctly, this is actually the second version of this rap...heaven knows if I'll ever find the original.
Historical CD Project - "WOW! That's What I Call Socialism!" for AP European History. (Sophomore Year, HS)
Featured Artists:
01. - The Fouriers - (The Seas Will Turn To A) Pink Lemonade Serenade
02. - Never Blanc Out - Social Workshop, Never Gonna Stop
03. - Own'en You - Happy Worker = Happy Wallet
04. - PrOuD Ho[R]n - AnArChy 4 the Ma$sEs
05. - Mill-ing About - On Liberty
06. - Etieme Cabaret - Put Your Hands Together (For Communism)
07. - Twistin' Tristan - Financial R-E-S-P-E-C-T
08. - Henri Simon and the Federation of Saints - The Celebration of Industrialization (Hymnal)
09. - The Belgian Boxers Feat. Zoe Gatti - Trance Equality ~Feminist Mix~
10. - Proper Us, Harmony - I Am Woman, Here Me Roar
From the inside cover:
"While there were many utopian socialist bands, each with their own individual ideas, they were united by an intense need to reform the "Status Quo," of European Society, especially in favor of the working class. ... However, socialist music was largely ignored until Marx."
Retrospective Comments - 17 / 20 for lack of historical graphics? BS! I would TOTALLY buy this CD, if CD's weren't a dying medium. All in all, pretty good for having finished it the night before. That's responsibility for you.
Fortune Cookie I Found, Undated
Personal achievement will be your key to happiness.
Retrospective Notes - I didn't write it, so I can't comment. It does have a ring of truth to it, though.
Untitled, Unfinished Poem, Undated.
Heaven's here
To treat you well -
Never mind
The holding cell
Run or scream or
Slip away,
It doesn't matter
Anyway
Light will hold you
Oh so tight and
Drag you out
Of the night
Retrospective Notes - I think the concept is interesting (heaven as hell), but I think the middle section isn't my best work. Interestingly, the piece of paper I found this on also includes early lyrics for the "Force Jansen" song. Go figure!
A Cellophane World, Undated
In our perfect, cellophane world
We are all waiting to be unfurled
From our precisely perfect packagings
And out unsubtle trappings
In our world coated in cellophane
There is simply no room for pain
Man is much too exquisitely packed
To see who he is or what he lacks.
Not a breath of air, just smiles to deceive
Gleefully applied, but never really received
In a world where man's simply lost his head
There is no worry for the dead.
If they are old and tired, send them away
And in a month, a week, no, a day
You'll be blessed with smiles anew
And in time, someone to replace you too.
Retrospective Comments - I'm not sure when I wrote this. I found it in a tub of old papers with some of my late High School (senior) and early college (first quarter) work. I think it has a few interesting observations, and the ending seems reasonably good. It's kind of interesting that this isn't in sonnet form. I was very fond of writing sonnets around that time. Sure, it's a little dark, but so's our world.
I have more material to go through, but since I want to keep my posts from getting too long, I'll stop this one here. Look for part 2...later tonight.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Free Verse Poem Without A Title
The Poem (I didn't bother to record this one, and I probably won't get around to it):
How may a man
Show his love
When the moon
Is so much brighter?
Glittering stars
Point the way
To Far-flung
Paradise.
How may a man
Hold his love
When the sea
Is so much deeper?
Waters beckon
As treasures shine,
Eyes of the deep
The only guide
How may a man
Save his love
While mountains
Stand still in time?
A rocky face
To scorn
All who yet
May wander.
But…
How may a man
Hide his love
When his heart
Stands beside him?
A gentle hand
To hold
That which makes
Two, one.
How may a man
Contain his love
When his passion
Softly calls his name?
The sight of
Two paths merging,
All is laid
Before him.
Why should a man
Lose his love
Thought it may
Travel from him?
From my lips
To the wind,
A message sings:
I’m with you.
---
The Story:
This poem is dedicated to (and in fact written for)someone very special to me. I wanted her to know, unequivocally, that I love her. On a more technical note, I'm happy that I was able to write the whole poem without inserting the phrase, "I love you." Those three words mean a lot to both of us, but I wanted to express myself without resorting to the obvious or the over-played. I would say the message was delivered successfully. It's written in free verse because...that's the way it came out. I don't normally use free verse, but since this was a special (if not extraordinary) occasion, I figured it was worth a shot. I'm not happy about having to use "but..." as a hinge to change the poem's tone on, but I couldn't think of anything else at the time, so it stuck. I might look to write more poetry in the near future, but we'll have to see. It all sort of depends on how I feel, and how much time I have.
To any visitors - Comments are certainly appreciated. Thanks.
How may a man
Show his love
When the moon
Is so much brighter?
Glittering stars
Point the way
To Far-flung
Paradise.
How may a man
Hold his love
When the sea
Is so much deeper?
Waters beckon
As treasures shine,
Eyes of the deep
The only guide
How may a man
Save his love
While mountains
Stand still in time?
A rocky face
To scorn
All who yet
May wander.
But…
How may a man
Hide his love
When his heart
Stands beside him?
A gentle hand
To hold
That which makes
Two, one.
How may a man
Contain his love
When his passion
Softly calls his name?
The sight of
Two paths merging,
All is laid
Before him.
Why should a man
Lose his love
Thought it may
Travel from him?
From my lips
To the wind,
A message sings:
I’m with you.
---
The Story:
This poem is dedicated to (and in fact written for)someone very special to me. I wanted her to know, unequivocally, that I love her. On a more technical note, I'm happy that I was able to write the whole poem without inserting the phrase, "I love you." Those three words mean a lot to both of us, but I wanted to express myself without resorting to the obvious or the over-played. I would say the message was delivered successfully. It's written in free verse because...that's the way it came out. I don't normally use free verse, but since this was a special (if not extraordinary) occasion, I figured it was worth a shot. I'm not happy about having to use "but..." as a hinge to change the poem's tone on, but I couldn't think of anything else at the time, so it stuck. I might look to write more poetry in the near future, but we'll have to see. It all sort of depends on how I feel, and how much time I have.
To any visitors - Comments are certainly appreciated. Thanks.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Cold Comfort
---
The Lyrics -
Cold Comfort
Now that I'm gone
I found my stuff
Out on the lawn
No place to go
No place to see
Oh Baby -
This can't be
I lost my faith
In humanity
Baby...
I look behind me
Nothing to see
No lights
Are following me
Lost is
The worst place to be
Ain't got no maps
Ain't got no streets
Lord no,
Lord no, it's cold comfort again.
[Instrumental 1]
I hear 'em laughin'
Across the way,
Here I'm thinking
It's my lucky day
I cross the ridge
And what do I see?
There's the devil
Waitin' for me
I smile
One last time
Here it is
The end of the line
[Instrumental 2]
We share a smile
We share a tear
I wonder lord
Why am I still here?
Turns out,
He ain't that bad
A story to be told
A truth to be had
He's got a bad rap
Just like me
Another excuse
For human beings.
Oh no.
Oh lord, oh no. (repeat)
That's cold comfort, baby.
[Instrumental 3, Outro]
---
The Story
First, I know that my voice is terrible in this song. It's too low, and alternates between a poor impersonation of the delta blues and Elvis. It even cracks and sounds weird in some places. As much as I wish I were I better singer, I have good news. The good news is that my voice is not the point of the song. The point is found in the lyrics. From the beginning, this entire song was conceived as a quick and dirty improv over a basic 12 bar blues. Musical and technical perfection were NOT what I was after by a long shot. I tried to be clever by using a minor pentatonic for the first instrumental and a major pentatonic for the second (look over the lyrics to see why that might be clever), but other than that...this was just song was just an excuse for me to write, a chance for me to vent some of my frustrations, and perhaps get a little closer to finding my own feelings on human nature and the human condition. I don't want to launch too much into this philosophical discussion with myself without telling why I wrote this song in the first place...
So it's no secret I've been trying to sell my Jackson RR3 guitar (the blue V for those not initiated) for quite some time. I've put it on CraigsList, Ultimate Guitar, and so forth. I've never had the heart to put it on eBay (shipping would be a bitch), so it's sat for a while, essentially in mint condition, waiting for a home and a guitarist more worthy and patient then myself. Recently, I got an email from a potential buyer. As it turned out, he was the manager of a guitar store down the street. This was going to be great, I thought. So, flash forward to about noon time today. I'm driving around, and I stumble on a guitar store in the city I'm supposed to find this place. As it turns out, it's another guitar store I've been hearing about recently. I look around, but don't find anything to my taste. I get some directions, and eventually wander off to find the place I was originally looking for.
I arrive, to find out the "guitar" store is really more of a pawn shop moonlighting as a guitar store. I suppose that there is nothing inherently good or bad about this, but it makes me a little suspicious. I've heard some horror stories about pawn shops over the net, and I am certainly not looking to be the next "victim." I wander around a bit, though the service was non-existent...I had to get a guitar from the top shelf myself, find cables and picks with no assistance...I find this odd, but just sort of brush it off. I came for a guitar, not the service, after all. So, I actually spot one or two guitars that I like, a Washburn and a few Schecters. I'm still not sold on the Schecter neck, but it's definitely interesting to feel up the guitar a little bit. Since the manager (the guy I'm trying to trade with) is busy selling a customer an amp, I am again left to my own devices. I plug in a try out a few of the guitars. To my dismay, the Washburn (my chief candidate) had weird pick-up fuzz. I find this troubling, especially considering that there a plenty of scratches and dinks on the guitar that don't exactly scream "new."
At this point, I am left to play the waiting game. To make matters worse, there is no public restroom to be found. When I finally get a chance to talk to the manager again, he has me bring in my guitar. He seems to have postitive feelings about it, and seems interested in the trade. He shows the guitar off to one of his employees, and we're off. I start talking to him about the guitar, and eventually we get back to the Washburn. We get to a bartering phase (something that is certainly not uncommon when purchasing a new guitar), and I point out a lot of the flaws and such. He says that the scratches can be rubbed out. (I personally doubt this, and found a dink on the back I knew I couldn't "buff out.") At this point, things start to get hairy.
Though it sounds blunt, I would say I made two mistakes in orchestrating this trade. First, I was not clear what I wanted. I'm confident that if I had said, "I'll trade you my guitar for this guitar and a set up," (i.e. been much more direct), things might have turned out differently. Secondly, I see how it was a little bit on the unfair side of me to expect him to clean the guitar. I probably wouldn't have even asked that if he was just a "private seller." Sure, he has the tools, the capacity, and the man-power, and it wouldn't even have been that expensive...(he quoted me less than $30 for a set up...I know a few places closer to myself that charge over $75)...but he made it clear that it was either "this guitar for that guitar, or nothing." I was certainly put off when he asked me, "can't you clean it (the guitar) yourself?" and said "I'd never clean another dude's guitar," in a patronizing / condescending way, and when he called me a terrible business-person. When he started swearing at me and telling me to get the f*** out of his store, however, I bid him a good day and took my leave. I did ask him, in all honesty, what I could do to be a better business-man, but he seemed more interested in throwing me out. I was not interested in an escalating situation, and it was obvious he was not going to trade.
Slightly perturbed, I went back to the original store I mentioned. I was curious what they would give me for the guitar...and as it turned out, peanuts. Again, I am not really in the business of getting ripped off, so I took my leave again. I was slightly soothed by the clerk. Though he was rather nonchalant and seemingly busy with business other than myself, he had a much softer and calmer tone of voice (a nice change of pace from being sworn at). With my afternoon wasted, and my perfect picture of a "civil, just, and reasonable," human kind slightly cracked, I went home. Don't get me wrong. I know I made mistakes on the deal. I could have examined the guitar more (or perhaps less) thoroughly. I could have facilitated the trade by being more direct with my needs. I also could have been more effective at showing that more money was not the only thing that would have sealed the deal for me. (This is why I was thrown out - the manager was convinced I wouldn't complete the trade without some additional cash given to me. This was not the case.) That doesn't entirely account for the fact that I was treated rather poorly, ignored for the better part of an hour, and thrown out of the store. There's a kicker to all of this, but I'm going to talk about what inspired the song first.
The song was inspired partly by my "weird travels," today. It was inspired by my misgivings and poor experience. It was also inspired by the fact that I have not been a very good writer lately, and I just really wanted to get something on paper (remember when I said above about this being a "quick and dirty" recording?). I wanted a way to sort out my feelings and put up a tent, or a least an umbrella, for the emotions I was feeling. There's a lot going on in my life right now, and honestly I can't let one silly little event lead to anything greater. I'm more or less happy with the way I reacted. At its worst, this situation inspired a bit of melancholy. Still, it did lead me to two (or maybe three or four) important realizations.
First, is that I want to be a strong person. I don't want to let things like that get to me, even a little. I guess in the end I can be happy it sparked a creative urge, but I'm going to have to deal with a lot more stressful things in my life, so I really want to be in control of myself and my words, particularly in how I express myself. Second is that business is not my forte. As a caveat to this point, business men (and women) are not your friend. They, like so many in this world, are looking out for their own interests and pocket books. Third is that not all situations can be viewed as a "win-lose" scenario. There was more to today than simply, "I didn't get a guitar," and "he didn't guitar." Technically, I didn't get a guitar I was leery of, but I certainly didn't make any friends. All in all it seems like a wash, and I'm fine with that. As I said before, not every situation (in fact very few) seems to lend itself well to that sort of thinking...it almost seems confrontational and counter-productive to do so.
The final thing that I should mention is that...when I heard the guy talking to the other customers he was busy with, he was saying how he had been in the pawn business since he was 9. He seemed to be in his early to mid forties, so that is a considerable amount of time. I don't know what kind of man he is, and I don't know what sort of opportunities he had, but I am not looking to fill his shoes (or become the man I perceive him to be). For all I know, he could have a PhD in business, and he could be the scholar of scholars. He could be a great philanthrope, destined to change the world. All I know for certain is that whatever he experiences, and wherever his life leads him next, I won't be thinking about him. I'll be drawing satisfaction from being myself, and achieving what I want to achieve. I'll be happy to forget this incident, because I have too many big things, to many promises of happiness and success to leave it in there for too long. Am I saying I'm a better, bigger man? No. Am I trying to be the best I can? Most definitely.
Okay, one block of text later, here's the kicker. When I got home, I relisted the guitar on CraigsList. I did this so it would appear high up on the listings, and more people would be likely to see it. From the time I had dinner to now, I've had two more possible inquiries about the guitar. One of them includes a guitar I was looking at (and hoping to find) at the shops I mentioned before. I dunno if I would call this good luck (I'm inclined to, because I'm in a better mood), but it is certainly a change of pace to go from "thrown out of store," to "offered one of your top choices of guitar for trade." In the end, I've realized that I certainly have a lot to smile about. (Generic ending, I know, but it's late and I can't come up with anything better. So sue me.)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)