Some Scribbles

Just a little bit of stuff i've written down on my phone.

It doesn't make much sense. But I'm still working on the finished product of "The Break Up" and I dislike leaving this blog empty for long periods of time.

I find inspiration in the crowds jeers
In fallen tears
Wise words comforting those torn up inside
I roamed the cold city streets until I found sleep
She's a tasty number in a red dress
One song closer to my demise
I remember the lies along with my hands running up her thighs
I got a rough future baby you sure you want to come along?
Now that's a dusty path that has seen it all before
As the rebels and the forgotten waltz the night away
But baby i'm not asking for confirmation
Leave me out of the letters to mama
Feeling all nostalgic in the wrong part of town
I'm tempted to call up old mistakes
Roll the dice
Risky bets on high stakes.

-dev

 

The Break Up Part Two (Rough Draft)

Well the irony isn't lost on me. For the past few months i've been huffing and puffing about getting some time off. And here I am finished exams and with a couple days off work. And i've been BORED. And I slept in until 2:30pm today! So now it is 1 am and i'm wondering where the day went.

I did some writing for "The Break Up" series. It's a little series about a couple that has broken up. Really I have no direction for it in mind. But I'm always telling myself I should start a mini-series. This is because I'm genuinely concerned that all I can write in life is poetry. I need to show myself that I can produce structured pieces of writing that connect with one another. Before I share this I must stress that this is a rough piece of writing. I plan on polishing this whole series over the course of the holidays. With a hopeful end product at the end of january.

The approach I wanted to take with this piece was switching to the perspective of the woman in Devon's life. It  begins right as she runs from his apartment after his fateful words "It's not all about you"

So here's something to read. A (rough) continuation of The Break Up

I had heard the words. But the meaning took an extra couple of seconds to kick in. Similar to the pain one experiences being stung by a wasp.

I had a habit of running away from my problems. When I was young I would fight with my mother over any little thing. When the emotions reached a certain point I would burst from the house with a flushed face heading in no particular direction. The irony was not lost on me. I was tired of Devon’s nightly walks with no direction in mind. And there I was running down the brightly lit street of Corydon as if I had escaped from a cage.

It wasn’t the walks. I understood that in a way. It wasn’t the walks. It was the coldness. It was the blank stare when everything mattered most. The walks were just part of Devon’s slow separation from me.

I had calmed down enough to sit down. Slightly amazed at the distance I had covered. I was in a strange place. This was it. I was single and in a strange place. We had fought before. I had run away before. But today the words, the steps, and the atmosphere-it all carried a different meaning. I knew it was over. I shivered slightly at the thought of it. It wasn’t my first break up. And I knew the routine. The tipsy phone calls, the returning of all our stuff, and the tears. Thick frustrating tears shed while my friends sympathetically clutched my shoulders. They whispered fond words in my ears while silently praying their relationship wouldn’t crumble like mine.

I couldn’t help but remember the moment I had realized Devon’s heart was somewhere else. I had awoken late one night for no apparent reason. I realized Devon was out of bed and assumed he was in the bathroom. I waited for awhile before deciding to check what he was up to. I crept down the hall slowly. I had a feeling that what I was going to find would be horrific. My mind raced wildly with gruesome possibilities. I turned the corner to the living room and saw him. He sat there with a single lamp on. His body was illuminated against the light and cast a long narrow shadow against the wall. He was in a t-shirt and underwear slouched on the couch. In his hands he held a photograph. Or what seemed like it. He just sat there staring at it. And I stood in the far corner of the room unnoticed.

“Devon…?” I whispered.

He slowly looked up. And what I remember most about his face was those eyes. They were cold and lifeless. They held a sadness that reminded me of my father. After my father separated from my mother he would often sit up late at night. I could often hear him mumbling and sobbing from my bedroom. I didn’t dare approach him in those times. I knew those eyes. Those eyes were meant for those who had lost something significant in life. They scared me.

“Get out of here” His words shook me from my thoughts

“Wh..what?”

“I said get the fuck out of here!”

And I turned and ran down the hallway. It all seemed like a dream, the way the hall way stretched and my feet felt heavy. It took hours for my heart to stop pounding and finally I found sleep. The following morning I awoke and ventured back into the living room. Devon had fallen asleep curled up on the couch. I saw the photograph lying on the ground. It must have fallen out of his hand. I crept towards him, the outburst from the night before still vivid in my mind.

However I didn’t need to get very close. The hair, the eyes and the smile answered my question. Devon had been looking at a photograph of his ex lover.

Time

Just a little something I jotted down here. Had lunch with my father today and the topic came around to my ailing grandmother. She's slipping quickly into full dementia and is experiencing other physical problems as well. The family is stuck in a difficult position. We must decide whether to wait for a care home to open up ( it could take up to a year) or we may be forced to hospitalize her. My thoughts of hospitalization vs a car home are rather neutral. I'll admit I didn't know my grandmother well, and now she doesn't recognize me. I just want the best to be done for her condition.

"It's just a matter of time" my father says.

And that word struck with me. Time..it's always falling away. The hourglass of life. I look at my father and I can see he is aging. Soon he will succumb to time. And soon I will succumb to time. I know these aren't exactly the best holiday thoughts. But life is still a beautiful thing. We just need to be aware we only get a small slice of it. I feel people walk around treating eachother like we'll be here forever. A certain amount of self-awareness of our own demise should humble us. No matter where we are in life. No matter our social class or financial position..we are all mortal beings.

And time serves many other purposes. We learn from time. Time heals us. Time is everything we know from when we rise in the morning and fall in the evening.

Time shows in lines on my fathers face
The handshakes tight
The hugs sentinmental

Time comes with old faces
Passing by in the wind
Old regret hanging out at the cornerstore

Time is always one step ahead of us
Or two steps behind
Time is an elusive character

Time takes the form of wounds
Healing over,
Only to re-open and fester

Time can seem slow in despair
And quicken sharply
In the warmth of an embrace

Time is growth
As we wear out old jackets
And smooth the creases on a new attitude

It All Feels So Good Until I Wake Up

You're a girl known for a deadly embrace
But i'm caught up in that smile, that face
Hugs from behind
Heating up the kitchen
Rolling hills
Cruising on the day off
Away from the punch clock
Away from stressed faces
Tangled up in eachother tonight
It all feels so good until I wake up

Hurting each other in all the right places
What a strange feeling
You take me to strange places
Clothes in some far away corner of the room
And this must be a dream
Cause I can hardly budge from this bed
Long nails on my back
It all feels so good until I wake up

Friends telling me I haven't been the same
"It's that broad, she's to blame"
"She's a snake, prone to heartbreak"
I can't help but smile
So blissful in my self destruction
I leave the voices behind and walk into the flames
A hot summer day pressed up against you
The clothes came off with just a pull and tug
You're fixing your hair in the mirror after it's over
And I struggle and I struggle but I slip away

It all feels so good until I wake up

-dev

Some Scribbles

My friends, my friends. I've left you for awhile.

The hustle and bustle of the end of school term has left me with very little time to write. That being said, it happened. In some beautiful way writing was done in those little moments of freedom I had. The writing forced its way on to me during my quick bus rides to school. Or lines were scribbled furiously down before I succumbed to sleep. And at times, creative writing was a kick-starter to academic writing.

So while I had no time, writing seemed to crawl through any free moment I had. I can't run away from it...

I've only got a few little scribbles from my phone to post for now. But i'm working on another piece similar to the The Break-Up as this was a popular piece. And of course having all this free time between school terms will result in much more writing. December is a poetic month. And january must be escaped from at all costs..so in the next while there will be plenty to read.  Without furthur adieu..


The thing about tearing down walls is that nobody seems eager to build them back up again
So let us smash, let us smash those things that seperate us

The first kiss
A culmination of nerves and anticipation
Beautiful in it's awkwardness
It is a sign of things to come
A gift of immortality
Or an impending death sentence

He had quit his job and it inspired her
The way he had stomped out on her regard
In her favour because he couldn't stand the way she was treated

I ask her if she's ever had a serious relationship.
Really, I wondered if she had ever been in love
Because, it changes you, really
Falling in love and having it taken away
It hardens us and teaches us about the world
It softens us and make us empathetic
It's a road some have walked
And as a result they tread more carefully
I wanted to know if she had experienced that because I'm careful who I fall for
I'm wary of letting down my guards
And it's because i'll always remember how it feels when it all comes crashing down.

I know it's not much. I promise much more in the near future.

peace and love

-dev

 

The Break-Up

"You always ask where i'm going when I leave
And I struggle with the question because
I truly don't know.
It's not that i'm searching for anything.
And i'm certainly not trying to leave you.
No, you mean the world to me.
I'm just..i'm just going to be by myself for awhile.
I have some stuff to work out"

"So what, you can't talk to me?!"

She's posed on the couch. A fight she's been waiting on for awhile.

I've got one shoe on. And maybe that's how it always was. Halfway out the door.

"Whatever it is you're looking for devon..it's not me"

"Don't speak like that babe. When you speak like that the whole world feels so heavy on my shoulders. When you speak like that...I feel like you're leaving me"

"I'm not leaving you! You're the one who has his shoes on. Going for one of your 'walks' Whatever the fuck it means! You're the one who leaves. You've always been so distanced from me"
I can't stop myself as the words tumble out of my mouth

"You're always looking for constant reminders that I love you. Why? Can't you just take my word for it? I hate how you read my poetry looking for yourself in every line.
It's not always about you!"

And that final sentence seemed to echo around the room. It swirled around my head and I could tell it swirled around her head.
And I could tell it hurt her. Because she wanted it to be all about her.
It should've been really. I mean, what else did I have?

And I felt that I had done something. Like ripping the bandage off part way. I had to finish it. How could I drag her along like this?

The truth behind my walks. I often thought of leaving her. Leaving the city. I wasn't happy. So I spoke.

"It's not always about you..and it's never going to be"

And she blinked. Registered. Winced. And rose quickly. Shoving me to the side. She was gone in an instant.

In the distance I could hear her sobs along with the other growls of the city. The constant sirens seemed fitting tonight.

I look in the mirror. Splash water in my face. And speak to my reflection.

"We've got to get out of here"

Cosmopolitan Dreams

She was sitting on the curb.
Telling me about how she misses the fireworks back home.
That tall grass and the cologne covered plaid shirt of a lover.
She misses the high arch of the church steeple
Combing hair and running away from her brother.
Such a small town such a big heart
Such big dreams breaking the boundaries of town
Leading her to the big city with cosmopolitan dreams

Let me be your tuxedo tonight
I'll put the pain away with witty things to say
Walking around the party i'll squeeze your hand when things get hard
That old face appearing out from the crowd
And it all comes back
Tear stained magazines
Running a smooth hand along everything you wanted to be
You were lost in the big city with cosmopolitan dreams

She was sitting on the curb.
Telling me about how she misses the grilled cheese sandwiches
And the feeling of her fathers beard on her face
Scruffy kisses and bear hugs
I inhale deep on the cigarette and let it escape my lips
Funny how her eyes narrowed at the phrase
A question hidden by the smoke
It formed a distorted accusation

And we can let these things hover in the air
And then drift away unfufilled.
But she answered
"Do you still love life?"

"Devon I don't know what life is"
"I've been chasing cosmopolitan dreams all my life"
"And life has something about it. It brings us closer to reality. It stings, though. It's a harsh wake up call"
"I'll always be there for you" I say casually. As if it didn't mean everything to me.

"No, you wont. You say that now but chances are..you..won't"
Forever casually tearing myself apart at the inside.
"Idiot, too soon" I think to myself

"I'm sorry dev i'm crying now and you don't need this"

Her makeup had begun to run and her eyes darkened. She's hiding her face and waving me away.

But i'll never leave. And i'm just glad to have this moment.

When we finally tore up the cosmopolitan magazine. And faced life for what it really was.