There's very little rhyme or reason why I am posting these notes today . They don't really have any common links to one another but for some reason I put them on here this overcast morning .
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My Pen Is My Heart
My pen is my heart
The ink is my soul
I write of happy times and I write about sorrow
I write of yesterday and hope for tomorrow
If I set down my pen or it runs out of ink
I know in my heart bad thoughts I will think
I need to write. It keeps me going
I hope to God the ink keeps flowing
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Eyes of Blue
Your eyes of blue-heart so true
My eyes brown-glued to you
I'm too shy to say how I feel
We've all been hurt before-the hurt; so real
I hold back my words ; afraid to say
I keep putting it off for another day
When that "another day" rolls around
I know you're nowhere to be found
So in my heart and mind you'll stay
Waiting on another day
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Bus Ride
I took a ride on the bus the other day . I wasn't going anywhere in particular . I got on the ixpress to Fairview Mall and used my transfer ; hopping onto a waiting bus without any regard as to what route number it was or where it was going. I just sat on the bus ; not sure if the seat beside me smelled of nachos or someones dirty feet . I listened to my mp3 player as I looked out the windows. It was a mix of residential and commercial . I pulled the cord which rings the bell and stepped off the bus . I didn't recognize the area; most likely because I rarely venture outside of Cambridge. It's always more of an adventure for me to travel in my mind than to actually travel . HECK ! You don;t need a passport with the mind travel . I walked aimlessly. A woman stopped and asked me for directions to some location she was searching for . "Sorry ma'am ; I don't even know where I am " I replied , and continued walking.
Eventually I came to University Avenue ; a street I knew about and I knew King Street ran off of University . Now; should I turn left or right . I turned right. Wrong choice. fourty five minutes later I was back where I had started . I turned left and came to King Street and headed south -through Waterloo and into Kitchener ; back to the bus terminal . So; I took a ride on the bus the other day . Did I learn anything by it ? Yes; I learned that there is always a way back home . Although I made a few wrong turns and decisions ; I'm back home . Much like life. You hit a few roadblocks or people will throw obstacles in your way. You find your way around ; reset you bearings and journey on. Eventually I will get back home .
Friday, October 30, 2009
Pekoe Mountain -My spin on a Harlequin@ romance type novel
I wanted to write a Harlequin@ type story for my lady friends and the guys who like that type of story . I have to admit I have read a Harlequin Romance and found it syrupy sweet . This is my take on how I would write one . I am not a good writer of dialogue between people . I would sooner use visual triggers rather than keep saying "Said" "asked" "replied" "answered" and the ilk . I wish I could but this is all I have
From Julies window she could see the fog lifting and the clouds dispersing; opening natures window blinds to let the sunshine in . She ran the water and rinsed her hands off wiping them on her apron . She chose to stay home after being stuck in what she called “ a job going nowhere”
Julie had a son named Jared who had gone off to college two years ago. so she was all alone on her parcel of land at the foothills of Pekoe Mountain. She baked for the Girl Scout troops in town and grew wildflowers and took them into town twice a week and sold them at the local farmers market. Today was market day .
Julie switched off the kitchen lights and grabbed her keys pulling the thick mahogany door behind her.
Outside Julie gathered her flowers from the galvanized buckets and placed them in her van . Her husbands chainsaw was still in the back of the van . Like she did every week she shifted the chainsaw to the side of the van ; making room for her flowers .
Julies husband Dylan was a lumberjack who worked up on Pekoe Mountain . Just before their son Jared had gone off to college; Jared had been falling trees when a wildfire broke out and perished in the fire. Julie and Dylan were high school sweethearts and had been together close to twenty two years .
Julie couldn’t bare the thought of getting rid of her husbands chainsaw so there it stayed.
Pulling out of her laneway onto the dirt road and heading into town Julie spots two fallow deer running through the tall grass and smiles .
At the market Julie takes her usual spot and opens the doors and sets up her vendors permit . It’s close to seven a.m ; opening time. She quickly makes a run for the canteen and grabs a coffee , saying hello to the vendors on her way .
The sun is shining and the market shoppers start to trickle in stopping at the various vendors selling everything from fresh preserves to hand knitted sweaters . Soon the market is crammed full of people .
Julie continues tying bunches of flowers together ; bunches of fifteen . Most of the other vendors sell them in bunches of twelve but she sells them for five dollars as do most other vendors. As she cuts off strands of colored ribbon and ties them she hears a familiar voice .
“Morning Julie “ It was one of her regulars .
“Good morning -lovely day isn’t it “ Julie replied sipping on her coffee
“ I need me the biggest brightest bunch of flowers you have Julie “
Julie smiled . He had came to the market every Saturday and picked the usual bunch of flowers . Orange Dahlias and Yellow mums.
“ Someone sure is lucky to get all these flowers “ Julie said ; handing him the flowers
“Actually I’ m the lucky one Julie -see you next week .
“You know ;I’ve been coming here for close to two years now and still don’t know your name “ he added “I’’m Jake “
“Its Julie -glad to know your name -see you next week “
They shook hands and he left .
JOE SAYS : URG !!! It s a romance I need filler -I know how it ends but hate writing dialogue so I will tell you in point form
-Jake continues to buy flowers from Julie
_Time passes- Jake explains why he is the lucky one rather than the person getting the flowers he buys
-Jake buys the flowers every week in colors and of the flower type his wife loves
_Jake brings the flowers to his wifes grave every week . His wife passed away from cancer almost two years ago>he was the lucky one becuase he had the privelege of knowing ;falling in love and loving her for close to twenty five years
_jake is a forest ranger and the day Julies husband Dylan perishes in the fire ; it is Jake who retrieves his body and brings it back from the side of the mountain
-Julie and Jake soon become friends through the circumstances of their lives
_ Neither are ready for romance so they are quite content as good friends
;Some times friendships can mean more than romantic interludes .
From Julies window she could see the fog lifting and the clouds dispersing; opening natures window blinds to let the sunshine in . She ran the water and rinsed her hands off wiping them on her apron . She chose to stay home after being stuck in what she called “ a job going nowhere”
Julie had a son named Jared who had gone off to college two years ago. so she was all alone on her parcel of land at the foothills of Pekoe Mountain. She baked for the Girl Scout troops in town and grew wildflowers and took them into town twice a week and sold them at the local farmers market. Today was market day .
Julie switched off the kitchen lights and grabbed her keys pulling the thick mahogany door behind her.
Outside Julie gathered her flowers from the galvanized buckets and placed them in her van . Her husbands chainsaw was still in the back of the van . Like she did every week she shifted the chainsaw to the side of the van ; making room for her flowers .
Julies husband Dylan was a lumberjack who worked up on Pekoe Mountain . Just before their son Jared had gone off to college; Jared had been falling trees when a wildfire broke out and perished in the fire. Julie and Dylan were high school sweethearts and had been together close to twenty two years .
Julie couldn’t bare the thought of getting rid of her husbands chainsaw so there it stayed.
Pulling out of her laneway onto the dirt road and heading into town Julie spots two fallow deer running through the tall grass and smiles .
At the market Julie takes her usual spot and opens the doors and sets up her vendors permit . It’s close to seven a.m ; opening time. She quickly makes a run for the canteen and grabs a coffee , saying hello to the vendors on her way .
The sun is shining and the market shoppers start to trickle in stopping at the various vendors selling everything from fresh preserves to hand knitted sweaters . Soon the market is crammed full of people .
Julie continues tying bunches of flowers together ; bunches of fifteen . Most of the other vendors sell them in bunches of twelve but she sells them for five dollars as do most other vendors. As she cuts off strands of colored ribbon and ties them she hears a familiar voice .
“Morning Julie “ It was one of her regulars .
“Good morning -lovely day isn’t it “ Julie replied sipping on her coffee
“ I need me the biggest brightest bunch of flowers you have Julie “
Julie smiled . He had came to the market every Saturday and picked the usual bunch of flowers . Orange Dahlias and Yellow mums.
“ Someone sure is lucky to get all these flowers “ Julie said ; handing him the flowers
“Actually I’ m the lucky one Julie -see you next week .
“You know ;I’ve been coming here for close to two years now and still don’t know your name “ he added “I’’m Jake “
“Its Julie -glad to know your name -see you next week “
They shook hands and he left .
JOE SAYS : URG !!! It s a romance I need filler -I know how it ends but hate writing dialogue so I will tell you in point form
-Jake continues to buy flowers from Julie
_Time passes- Jake explains why he is the lucky one rather than the person getting the flowers he buys
-Jake buys the flowers every week in colors and of the flower type his wife loves
_Jake brings the flowers to his wifes grave every week . His wife passed away from cancer almost two years ago>he was the lucky one becuase he had the privelege of knowing ;falling in love and loving her for close to twenty five years
_jake is a forest ranger and the day Julies husband Dylan perishes in the fire ; it is Jake who retrieves his body and brings it back from the side of the mountain
-Julie and Jake soon become friends through the circumstances of their lives
_ Neither are ready for romance so they are quite content as good friends
;Some times friendships can mean more than romantic interludes .
Out of Nothingness
Out of Nothingness
Late last night I went on a bike ride. It was close to midnight and having to get out of the four little walls that surround me ; I grabbed my coat and locked the door behind me. Off I went .
Downtown was very quiet as I headed south on Ainslie Street . I came to thinking the downtown street lights really need to have higher watt bulbs or better ones. No wonder people don’t like walking through town. The alley way behind where I used to work had a few patrons from the bar having that cigarettes or whatever it is people do in an alley at midnight.
I headed down to Concession Street and cut over to Water and I was on my way . Once I passed the GTO gas bar ; it was dark . Other than the car headlights coming toward me there was very little light. I pulled off the side of the road and entered the trail . It was even darker here and I wondered if it was a good idea. I wasn’t changing my mind now so I ventured on . Once in awhile I could hear a car pass by the highway or a rustling in the brush on either side of me . It was deadly quiet . I wondered if that is what “peaceful” sounded like . Then I wondered if it were really quiet like that all the time ; how much I would think. I like lots of noise around me usually as it helps me to stop thinking . Tonight I actually liked it .
I looked from side to side on the trail ;complete nothingness . It was almost like being asleep yet not having a dream . I continued on and came to a point on the trail where there were no trees overtop ;where a small spattering of stars shone done . There are some wooden benches along the trail that doctors and businesses had donated ; so I stopped for a bit and sat . I had biked about 8 km but I was only half way where I wanted to go so I didn’t sit long .
I biked on and on eventually getting to my 16 km point. I left my bike at the bottom of the wooden steps and felt my way up the hand railing to the overlook . It looked so different after midnight ; moreso than I had imagined . It was still dark here but the sky overhead was clear and across the river I could see lights on in a farm house. There are two benches on the landing . I sat on the back of one and had my legs between the black metal rails and just looked across the river ;down at the river and every direction I could see.
I walked over to one of the corner support rails; pulled out my lighter and looked down . It was still there. I remember maybe four or five years ago when we carved our initials into it . We had been goofing around like we did and two older people ;a man and a woman in them god-awful spandex biking shorts walked up the steps to the overlook . There jaws dropped . We had biked so far that day and we had to pee. So when nature calls; you pee. We stood against the railing with our parts peeing onto the rocks below; trying to spell our names. The older people had seen my friends (you know) because he was turned sideways as they walked up the steps . “hey joe -you got it easy -you only have 3 letters to spell “ he shouted . The poor woman was taken aback and back down the steps she went.
Our initials were still there ;although a bit weathered by the rain and sun beating down but they were there . I just stared at the initials for a bit ;took out my pocket knife and scratched them out. As much as I thought the memories were there; in that spot ;they weren’t . Those memories came flooding back the minute I dropped my bike and seen the overlook .
So I headed home through darkness and silence. A sort of nothingness ; yet I had experienced so much . The carved names are gone ; my friend is no longer physically here ; yet he is . That’s what can be so good about some memories at times .
Late last night I went on a bike ride. It was close to midnight and having to get out of the four little walls that surround me ; I grabbed my coat and locked the door behind me. Off I went .
Downtown was very quiet as I headed south on Ainslie Street . I came to thinking the downtown street lights really need to have higher watt bulbs or better ones. No wonder people don’t like walking through town. The alley way behind where I used to work had a few patrons from the bar having that cigarettes or whatever it is people do in an alley at midnight.
I headed down to Concession Street and cut over to Water and I was on my way . Once I passed the GTO gas bar ; it was dark . Other than the car headlights coming toward me there was very little light. I pulled off the side of the road and entered the trail . It was even darker here and I wondered if it was a good idea. I wasn’t changing my mind now so I ventured on . Once in awhile I could hear a car pass by the highway or a rustling in the brush on either side of me . It was deadly quiet . I wondered if that is what “peaceful” sounded like . Then I wondered if it were really quiet like that all the time ; how much I would think. I like lots of noise around me usually as it helps me to stop thinking . Tonight I actually liked it .
I looked from side to side on the trail ;complete nothingness . It was almost like being asleep yet not having a dream . I continued on and came to a point on the trail where there were no trees overtop ;where a small spattering of stars shone done . There are some wooden benches along the trail that doctors and businesses had donated ; so I stopped for a bit and sat . I had biked about 8 km but I was only half way where I wanted to go so I didn’t sit long .
I biked on and on eventually getting to my 16 km point. I left my bike at the bottom of the wooden steps and felt my way up the hand railing to the overlook . It looked so different after midnight ; moreso than I had imagined . It was still dark here but the sky overhead was clear and across the river I could see lights on in a farm house. There are two benches on the landing . I sat on the back of one and had my legs between the black metal rails and just looked across the river ;down at the river and every direction I could see.
I walked over to one of the corner support rails; pulled out my lighter and looked down . It was still there. I remember maybe four or five years ago when we carved our initials into it . We had been goofing around like we did and two older people ;a man and a woman in them god-awful spandex biking shorts walked up the steps to the overlook . There jaws dropped . We had biked so far that day and we had to pee. So when nature calls; you pee. We stood against the railing with our parts peeing onto the rocks below; trying to spell our names. The older people had seen my friends (you know) because he was turned sideways as they walked up the steps . “hey joe -you got it easy -you only have 3 letters to spell “ he shouted . The poor woman was taken aback and back down the steps she went.
Our initials were still there ;although a bit weathered by the rain and sun beating down but they were there . I just stared at the initials for a bit ;took out my pocket knife and scratched them out. As much as I thought the memories were there; in that spot ;they weren’t . Those memories came flooding back the minute I dropped my bike and seen the overlook .
So I headed home through darkness and silence. A sort of nothingness ; yet I had experienced so much . The carved names are gone ; my friend is no longer physically here ; yet he is . That’s what can be so good about some memories at times .
Kiss me
Kiss me in the light; hold me in the dark
promise me you'll never break my heart
A kiss like no other I’ve never had from you
A kiss with eyes wide open - Its only you I view
A sudden gasp of air I take
I move in closer and cup your face
Lips meet-hearts race
Kiss me in the moonlight with shadows on our faces
Kiss me in the dark of night
A gentle kiss -that feels so right
Our hearts seem to beat in tandem as I hold you close to me
A love like this -so real and pure ; how I wish it could be
Stand with me in daylight -sunlight in our eyes
Dance with me at midnight-as stars dance in the skies
Sit with me as I grow weary and I recite you a poem
A poem I wrote just for you ; and just you alone
So if you kiss me in the moonlight
Or hold me in the dark
I gave you My promise; I’d never break your heart
Joe Lethbridge @2009
promise me you'll never break my heart
A kiss like no other I’ve never had from you
A kiss with eyes wide open - Its only you I view
A sudden gasp of air I take
I move in closer and cup your face
Lips meet-hearts race
Kiss me in the moonlight with shadows on our faces
Kiss me in the dark of night
A gentle kiss -that feels so right
Our hearts seem to beat in tandem as I hold you close to me
A love like this -so real and pure ; how I wish it could be
Stand with me in daylight -sunlight in our eyes
Dance with me at midnight-as stars dance in the skies
Sit with me as I grow weary and I recite you a poem
A poem I wrote just for you ; and just you alone
So if you kiss me in the moonlight
Or hold me in the dark
I gave you My promise; I’d never break your heart
Joe Lethbridge @2009
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
...And there I stood
And There I Stood
There I stood waiting on the corner. I was nervous and excited at the same time . I saw him coming up the street ; cell phone in his hand . I knew I seen me too ; that familiar yet so infrequent smile he had . My phone vibrates in my front left pocket . It was him texting me . “ I’m here J “ it says .
I cannot help but smile . He can be such a knob at times. That’s our friendly term for each other when we say random off topic things . We walk back towards my apartment. “ Hey you want to walk around for a bit ; I’ll get you something to eat . You’re starting to look like a bobble head “ he said to me. I gave him a friendly punch to the shoulder “Shut up man-some bobble heads are highly collectible” I pass on the food but we go for coffee and catch up with what’s been going on in our lives. I didn’t tell him everything. I didn’t want him to turn tail and head back home already .
“Don’t hold back on me Joey ; I read your eyes like Oprah reads books”
Damn ! He had so many Oprah-isms . I swear he taped every episode. He had told me the biggest mistake she had ever made; other than dating Stedman was putting Dr. Phil on his own show.
After we finished our coffees; ha-ha I had three to his one.
“No wonder you don’t eat Joey ; you fill up on caffeine.
I stood up and put my hand on my right hip . “Ain’t no cellulite on me and (snaps fingers) unlike your Oprah I don’t have no personal trainer “
“You are such an idiot Joey “ he said smiling
We left and walked down by the river for a bit watching a small group of people fishing on the opposite side of the river. We walked down the concrete steps to the edge of the river and sat on some boulders. We sat quietly ; hearing people chattering overhead at the small roadside eatery and hearing the casting of the fishing lines .Kerplunk !
“I missed you Joey” out of the blue
“I know you did -now let’s go “ I responded ;quickly getting off the topic
We went back to my apartment to watch Across the Universe and some now forgotten movie. He sat on the futon and I sat on the floor . I rarely sit on the futon. Usually I sit on the floor or throw my fuzzy blue comforter on the floor with a pillow. I made a bowl of popcorn and continued watching the movie.
“Oh My God ! Joey”as my friend grabbed my arm and traced the scars with his finger.
“What happened to your arm ?” I was too happy in this moment on this day to tell him .
“It’s okay ; nothing to worry about “ I said
“Joey, I do worry about you”
So I told him .
Instead of hearing the ever familiar “Don’t be stupid doing that shit” or “you’re crazy man !” he just leaned from his spot on the futon and hugged me ; adding “but you’re ok now ? “
I told him I had not done anything like that in six months or more. I was honest . There were times I had the urge but didn’t act on them. I won’t allow myself to go back there . I showed him why I don’t . I showed him my writing.
“This is my outlet” I said ; showing him the list of writings I have done for the past year or so. I only showed him the titles .
“Can I read some of it Joey ?”
“If you want to sure but I don’t candy coat it” I warned him
There have been people who after reading some of what I had written were upset with me and some who don’t bother talking to me anymore .
After reading for an hour or so he stopped reading and asked if I could print some off for him .
“Buy the book when it comes out “ I joked
He read about my “sitting by the fire” my “Lavender Dreams” , “If I could sing” and asked me “Are these people real you write about or how you wish your life were”
Most of my writing is real . It comes from my emotions ; so it is real.
“Who is it your talking about in Sitting by The Fire Joey ? . He sure made some impression on you “
It doesn’t matter who they are; it only matters that they are.
“Hey you missed half the movie; enough reading “ I said
Sitting once again on the futon he watched the movie .
“Come sit up here Joey “
He propped a pillow on his chest and I lay there with my feet over the edge of the futon ; my right arm clutching the pillow as he gently rubbed my scarred arm . “You know “ I said “ Rubbing them won’t make them go away “ I said jokingly
“I know that Joey” he said hesitating a few seconds and adding “ but is the pain is gone?”
“Most days are ok; the others are at least tolerable; now watch the movie “
I fell asleep only to wake; still with my head on his chest and him still rubbing my arm with his fingers . Ever so gentle ;almost like butterfly wings against your cheek . The movie had ended long ago ; I had slept close to two hours
“ Hey Sorry “ I said sliding up a bit “Why didn’t you wake me ?”
“You looked so peaceful ; Do you know you talk in your sleep?”
“Ummm No -When I am sleeping ; I’m not awake to hear myself “ I said being a smartass “What did I say ?”
“Not important ; but hey it’s like two a.m; may as well go back to sleep.”
“Hold on “ I said as I got up from my spot which was so comfortable for so many different reasons . Closeness to someone I cared about being number one.
I grabbed my fuzzy blue comforter and a few pillows and set them up on the floor.
“Ok but on the floor; you were so cramped up there on the futon “
There we were . Two of us on the middle of the floor ;sleeping . We woke up at close to eleven a.m and not wanting to get off the floor we just lay there until close to one in the afternoon
“ I should get going Joey ; you are alright , right ?” he asked with genuine concern
“I am okay ; there’s not one person who’s alright . Now, give me my hug . “
“You don’t have to ask for what I was going to give you anyway “ he said
Hugs exchanged . “This is how we do it in Italy Joey “ and then he kissed me on both cheeks and added “tres Bien”
“Man ! You have never been to Italy and tres bien is not Italian ; it’s French “ I told him
Haha He head read “If I could sing “ about my Italian friend .
“Next time I pick the movies Joey “ he said ;giving me another hug . I swear his eyes had tears in them as the door closed behind him .
I walked into the bathroom and seen that I too had tears in mine.
There I stood waiting on the corner. I was nervous and excited at the same time . I saw him coming up the street ; cell phone in his hand . I knew I seen me too ; that familiar yet so infrequent smile he had . My phone vibrates in my front left pocket . It was him texting me . “ I’m here J “ it says .
I cannot help but smile . He can be such a knob at times. That’s our friendly term for each other when we say random off topic things . We walk back towards my apartment. “ Hey you want to walk around for a bit ; I’ll get you something to eat . You’re starting to look like a bobble head “ he said to me. I gave him a friendly punch to the shoulder “Shut up man-some bobble heads are highly collectible” I pass on the food but we go for coffee and catch up with what’s been going on in our lives. I didn’t tell him everything. I didn’t want him to turn tail and head back home already .
“Don’t hold back on me Joey ; I read your eyes like Oprah reads books”
Damn ! He had so many Oprah-isms . I swear he taped every episode. He had told me the biggest mistake she had ever made; other than dating Stedman was putting Dr. Phil on his own show.
After we finished our coffees; ha-ha I had three to his one.
“No wonder you don’t eat Joey ; you fill up on caffeine.
I stood up and put my hand on my right hip . “Ain’t no cellulite on me and (snaps fingers) unlike your Oprah I don’t have no personal trainer “
“You are such an idiot Joey “ he said smiling
We left and walked down by the river for a bit watching a small group of people fishing on the opposite side of the river. We walked down the concrete steps to the edge of the river and sat on some boulders. We sat quietly ; hearing people chattering overhead at the small roadside eatery and hearing the casting of the fishing lines .Kerplunk !
“I missed you Joey” out of the blue
“I know you did -now let’s go “ I responded ;quickly getting off the topic
We went back to my apartment to watch Across the Universe and some now forgotten movie. He sat on the futon and I sat on the floor . I rarely sit on the futon. Usually I sit on the floor or throw my fuzzy blue comforter on the floor with a pillow. I made a bowl of popcorn and continued watching the movie.
“Oh My God ! Joey”as my friend grabbed my arm and traced the scars with his finger.
“What happened to your arm ?” I was too happy in this moment on this day to tell him .
“It’s okay ; nothing to worry about “ I said
“Joey, I do worry about you”
So I told him .
Instead of hearing the ever familiar “Don’t be stupid doing that shit” or “you’re crazy man !” he just leaned from his spot on the futon and hugged me ; adding “but you’re ok now ? “
I told him I had not done anything like that in six months or more. I was honest . There were times I had the urge but didn’t act on them. I won’t allow myself to go back there . I showed him why I don’t . I showed him my writing.
“This is my outlet” I said ; showing him the list of writings I have done for the past year or so. I only showed him the titles .
“Can I read some of it Joey ?”
“If you want to sure but I don’t candy coat it” I warned him
There have been people who after reading some of what I had written were upset with me and some who don’t bother talking to me anymore .
After reading for an hour or so he stopped reading and asked if I could print some off for him .
“Buy the book when it comes out “ I joked
He read about my “sitting by the fire” my “Lavender Dreams” , “If I could sing” and asked me “Are these people real you write about or how you wish your life were”
Most of my writing is real . It comes from my emotions ; so it is real.
“Who is it your talking about in Sitting by The Fire Joey ? . He sure made some impression on you “
It doesn’t matter who they are; it only matters that they are.
“Hey you missed half the movie; enough reading “ I said
Sitting once again on the futon he watched the movie .
“Come sit up here Joey “
He propped a pillow on his chest and I lay there with my feet over the edge of the futon ; my right arm clutching the pillow as he gently rubbed my scarred arm . “You know “ I said “ Rubbing them won’t make them go away “ I said jokingly
“I know that Joey” he said hesitating a few seconds and adding “ but is the pain is gone?”
“Most days are ok; the others are at least tolerable; now watch the movie “
I fell asleep only to wake; still with my head on his chest and him still rubbing my arm with his fingers . Ever so gentle ;almost like butterfly wings against your cheek . The movie had ended long ago ; I had slept close to two hours
“ Hey Sorry “ I said sliding up a bit “Why didn’t you wake me ?”
“You looked so peaceful ; Do you know you talk in your sleep?”
“Ummm No -When I am sleeping ; I’m not awake to hear myself “ I said being a smartass “What did I say ?”
“Not important ; but hey it’s like two a.m; may as well go back to sleep.”
“Hold on “ I said as I got up from my spot which was so comfortable for so many different reasons . Closeness to someone I cared about being number one.
I grabbed my fuzzy blue comforter and a few pillows and set them up on the floor.
“Ok but on the floor; you were so cramped up there on the futon “
There we were . Two of us on the middle of the floor ;sleeping . We woke up at close to eleven a.m and not wanting to get off the floor we just lay there until close to one in the afternoon
“ I should get going Joey ; you are alright , right ?” he asked with genuine concern
“I am okay ; there’s not one person who’s alright . Now, give me my hug . “
“You don’t have to ask for what I was going to give you anyway “ he said
Hugs exchanged . “This is how we do it in Italy Joey “ and then he kissed me on both cheeks and added “tres Bien”
“Man ! You have never been to Italy and tres bien is not Italian ; it’s French “ I told him
Haha He head read “If I could sing “ about my Italian friend .
“Next time I pick the movies Joey “ he said ;giving me another hug . I swear his eyes had tears in them as the door closed behind him .
I walked into the bathroom and seen that I too had tears in mine.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Jump Start Hearts
Jump Start Hearts
Similar and familiar thoughts
Shared dreams ;yet apart
Eyes meet
jump start hearts pounding in our chests
Hands held tight
We talked all night
Clock radio shows 5:07 AM in numbers of red
Clothed still ;sharing one single bed
Similar and familiar thoughts
Shared our dreams; yet apart
Eyes meet
Jump start hearts pounding in our chests
We talked all night
Clock radio shows 8:34 AM in numbers of red
Clothed still; sharing one single bed
Hands held ;still so tight
We spend that way ;up all night
Our hands were sweaty but we held on tight
For both of us; it felt so right
Eyes meet
Jump start hearts pounding in our chests
We both agreed ; gentle touch ,we love the best
Joe Lethbridge 2009
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Burger , fries and a mop and a bucket
We were the last to leave the club on that hot August night . We said goodnight to the bartender and heading out walking. We only drank to the point of cutting loose. We were never the ones to cause arguments . Sometimes when confronted by the more unruly drinkers ;we just laughed at them . We had some close calls ; almost getting our blocks knocked off.
We walked home that night but we stopped at McDonalds for something to chow down on. It was about 2:30 in the morning and they must have washed the front of the restaurant where the cashier area is . I slid around crazy ; doing my Michael Jackson moonwalk impression . People thought I was crazy or something. You stood there just cracking up laughing at me calling me stupid goof . You ordered a Big Mac and large fries; a milkshake and an apple pie. I ordered just small fries. I always wondered where you kept all that food. You were so lean and tall.
I continued to moonwalk and the robot ; as lame as I do them while you waited on the food .
The lady handed you the tray with our food on it and SLAM. My feet slipped a bit too far and slid into you; making you lose balance and drop the tray . It was so funny to me but not the woman behind the cash leaning on the mop still sitting in the mop bucket. “You ARE cleaning that up ! “ she said glaring at me .
“Quick ! 10 second rule -floor is clean . Get your food”
“I am not eating food off the floor joe ; you’re f@#&ing crazy “ my friend said ; but with a smile
There I was sitting cross legged on the floor eating my fries. “Here ; at least eat your Big Mac-it’s wrapped “
The lady behind the counter pushed the bucket from behind the counter towards me . “When you’re done having your little picnic; I’d appreciate you clean up your mess “
“Why Yes Ma’am Forest Ranger Rick “ I replied to her
I did start to mop up the mess but she didn’t let me finish . SHEESH !! Since when is slow dancing with a mop and singing a bad thing . There were barely any customers in there and the ones who were didn’t object .
“Forget it - I will clean it up ! “the woman said “And your friend here is right ; you are a stupid goof “
I just laughed . I seen her smirk-she didn’t want me to see it but I did . I called her on it “I know you want to smile -Come on -free smiles on the menu remember “
She laughed and said “just go wherever you are going PLEASE “
So my friend and I went on our ;well my merry way. We were heading southbound on Hespeler Road towards downtown Cambridge .
“NOW what are you doing ?” my friend asked
“I’m hitchhiking ;thus the thumb out and my pant leg rolled up “ I answered
“YEAH like ANYONE will wanna pick you up “ he responded
“HAHA You picked me up ! “ I said
“ You are a fuc%^&ng idiot Joe “
The joke was on him . A car pulled up to the edge of the road .
“Where you headed boys ? “ the driver asked
“Hespeler “ I replied
The driver hesitated and then said “ Hespelers behind you -you’re headed the wrong way - Your walking the wrong way “
“Sorry but it’s the only way I walk; unless of course you want me to moonwalk too “
“ Are you some kind of retard !!!” the driver asked
“Umm no we are just on our way home “ I answered
He pulled away and drove on . My friend was just holding his face in his hands repeating “OMFG ! OMFG ! OMFG “
“Dude you are losing it “ I said to him “ whats with the swearing “
“OMG Joe you are such an idiot “ he said with a broad smile
We went home . “See ya soon “ I said
“Yeah I cant wait “ he said with I think just a tad of sarcasm
“Hey ; wheres my hug “ I asked - Hugs are a ritual with me
My friend walked back to me “Oh God I know I shouldn’t -who knows what I am in for “
As I hugged I spun him in a slow circle
“Jesus Joe -Don’t you ever NOT dance “
The answer is nope .
We walked home that night but we stopped at McDonalds for something to chow down on. It was about 2:30 in the morning and they must have washed the front of the restaurant where the cashier area is . I slid around crazy ; doing my Michael Jackson moonwalk impression . People thought I was crazy or something. You stood there just cracking up laughing at me calling me stupid goof . You ordered a Big Mac and large fries; a milkshake and an apple pie. I ordered just small fries. I always wondered where you kept all that food. You were so lean and tall.
I continued to moonwalk and the robot ; as lame as I do them while you waited on the food .
The lady handed you the tray with our food on it and SLAM. My feet slipped a bit too far and slid into you; making you lose balance and drop the tray . It was so funny to me but not the woman behind the cash leaning on the mop still sitting in the mop bucket. “You ARE cleaning that up ! “ she said glaring at me .
“Quick ! 10 second rule -floor is clean . Get your food”
“I am not eating food off the floor joe ; you’re f@#&ing crazy “ my friend said ; but with a smile
There I was sitting cross legged on the floor eating my fries. “Here ; at least eat your Big Mac-it’s wrapped “
The lady behind the counter pushed the bucket from behind the counter towards me . “When you’re done having your little picnic; I’d appreciate you clean up your mess “
“Why Yes Ma’am Forest Ranger Rick “ I replied to her
I did start to mop up the mess but she didn’t let me finish . SHEESH !! Since when is slow dancing with a mop and singing a bad thing . There were barely any customers in there and the ones who were didn’t object .
“Forget it - I will clean it up ! “the woman said “And your friend here is right ; you are a stupid goof “
I just laughed . I seen her smirk-she didn’t want me to see it but I did . I called her on it “I know you want to smile -Come on -free smiles on the menu remember “
She laughed and said “just go wherever you are going PLEASE “
So my friend and I went on our ;well my merry way. We were heading southbound on Hespeler Road towards downtown Cambridge .
“NOW what are you doing ?” my friend asked
“I’m hitchhiking ;thus the thumb out and my pant leg rolled up “ I answered
“YEAH like ANYONE will wanna pick you up “ he responded
“HAHA You picked me up ! “ I said
“ You are a fuc%^&ng idiot Joe “
The joke was on him . A car pulled up to the edge of the road .
“Where you headed boys ? “ the driver asked
“Hespeler “ I replied
The driver hesitated and then said “ Hespelers behind you -you’re headed the wrong way - Your walking the wrong way “
“Sorry but it’s the only way I walk; unless of course you want me to moonwalk too “
“ Are you some kind of retard !!!” the driver asked
“Umm no we are just on our way home “ I answered
He pulled away and drove on . My friend was just holding his face in his hands repeating “OMFG ! OMFG ! OMFG “
“Dude you are losing it “ I said to him “ whats with the swearing “
“OMG Joe you are such an idiot “ he said with a broad smile
We went home . “See ya soon “ I said
“Yeah I cant wait “ he said with I think just a tad of sarcasm
“Hey ; wheres my hug “ I asked - Hugs are a ritual with me
My friend walked back to me “Oh God I know I shouldn’t -who knows what I am in for “
As I hugged I spun him in a slow circle
“Jesus Joe -Don’t you ever NOT dance “
The answer is nope .
Friday, October 16, 2009
Before I post the "Brother to Brother " story ; it is not about me or any of my brothers. This is life as seen through someone elses eyes . When I write I don't always write for mere "entertainment value" such as my " Pole Dancer" not I posted yesterday. Ones like that are fluff and filler and my way of "stepping back" from the more serious writing. As I was saying ; I don't write just for entertainment. I write in hopes that someone-even one looks at life outside their box ; their "comfort zone " as you will. I will never get a Writers Choice award or anything ; but what I get is more than that. People who will read and get something out of it. Afterall the only borders you make are the ones you set yourself. Step outside and see life from another perspective. Here ; then is"Brother to Brother "
I love you !
Brother to Brother
Kneeling by the bedside ; I looked into your eyes
No longer were you breathing; you were headed for the skies
I clutched your hand and held it firmly
I knew your life was quite the journey
You thought of all the things you did
When you were just the “little kid”
You found the injured robin and asked “ Why doesn’t he sing ?’
We took him home and found; he had a broken wing
We played tag for hours in the field and endless hide and seek
There was a time you ran away from home but said “ I be back in about a week “
You didn’t want to miss the school trip to the state park
We’ spend the whole day there; getting home just before dark
We took that trip together-you were seven ; I was ten
If only you were here right now-we would do that all again
I hope you know, I AM PROUD to be your brother
Even if I could have; I would not have chose another
Kneeling by the bedside I look into your eyes
No longer are you breathing; you are headed for the skies
You told me you had a secret; you could no longer keep inside
“Tell me little ‘bro ; I love you and tell you this with pride”
I clutched your hand and held it tight
How you were treated just isn’t right
You are caring and giving; one never to argue
For all of this and more ; I say that I Love You
“There’s not a day goes by that I don’t miss you ‘bro “
Joe Lethbridge 2009
Thursday, October 15, 2009
An Ode to a Pole Dancer - purely fiction :)
Today; a break from the usual ...
As I wrapped my hands around the thick round pole
I knew right then and there; entertainment was my goal
The lights flashed on, the music blared
I danced like a fool without a care
The audience cheered and got to their feet
“take off the clothes and show us the meat “
The patrons grew restless and I shivered in fear
I looked for an exit -there was none near
The music played on and I continued my show
I was stuck here for hours. No place to go
The grannies had backed against all the doors
They grew restless and threw their chairs to the floor
“Take it off you bastard “ they would hoot and holler
The fear inside me made me shrink smaller and smaller
“Don’t be a chicken shit - take off your pants “
Although frightened to death -I continued to dance “
The music stop playing -the lights went out
All was quiet but for just one shout
Joey my god this is your mommy
Put on some damned clothes- I can see your damned tummy
Oh my god ! It was true my mother was here
I was glued to the floor chock full of fear
The audience hackled and laughed in my face
I ran from there nude full of disgrace
Hiatus ?
Today after I wrote ; I set down my pen and wondered if I had anything more to write about . I had told my friends story ;as I had promised him. I had written a few other poems and stories for friend in Europe . I often will send my writing to a few people who have taken an interest in what I would write about.
It wasn’t long ago that I really wished to have enough writing to fill a book . I do . It’s all in one book which no one has bought yet . I would be happy if even one person would buy it . It would make me feel like I achieved something .
People tell me I achieve a lot just by writing . I know my writing can cause people to laugh or cry and sometimes question their own perceptions. That is what I aim for when I write. Sometimes now if I have a lapse in writing; people will email me or message me or some will even call me and say “Where is your writing ?” I cant write anytime . I need someone or something that inspires me to write about them or it .
I need to take a break from writing . I don’t know when I will be back with pen in hand and tears in my eyes . I cry a lot when I write because writing is not a simple act of writing down words. When I write them down; it is like walking down memory lane; which is not always pleasant but its been a journey I have always had to take . With each word I can see the person I am writing about , I can almost feel the emotions they felt and relayed to me. I can smell the flowers as though I was still dancing around the campfire.
I keep everything I write and when I have time I go back and read it to myself . Its not always easy to read what I wrote . It was not always easy either to write what I wrote. For those of you who have continually asked me “why bother writing -there’s no money in it ? “ ; “Writings lame -a monkey can do it “ I say to them . Put your money where your mouth is . It isn’t that easy . I have posted three notes on face book today .Below is what I wrote earlier today
I choked up . All I could manage to say was "I ..." and then I quickly added; "..forgot what I was going to say " I'm such a dork at times.
I think it has always been difficult for me to tell people I care about; how I feel. I think maybe that is why I write as much as I do . I think everything I write about has some aspect of me in it. Some people who read my writing think it is all made up and a work of fiction. Maybe some is but somewhere in each poem or piece of prose I write is something about me. Something I can’t or won’t bring myself to let them know .
Take last night for instance . I had a dream yet again ; a familiar dream of dancing in the same field of tall fragrant lavender ; slighty blowing in the warm breezes . I could hear music all around me . The sky was filled of stars ;so many shooting stars around me . The song stopped playing and I looked at my dance partner ; the same one as in all my dreams . Yet; something was different. In previous dreams ;all I could see was a face with eyes always shut and a mouth that neither smiled or frowned. Last night when I dreamed ; my partner had a face I recognized . Eyes ,dark brown . A mouth that smiled.
“what were you waiting for Joe ; I’ve always been here-all you had to do was open YOUR eyes “ ; he emphasised your “ You may have thought it was me who had my eyes shut all the time but even though yours were open you didn’t see around you what was really going on and important. Do you SEE what I am talking about Joe ?”
I woke up, rolled out of bed and had my morning coffee; forgetting the moment I woke up about the dream.
It wasn’t until I was finished in the shower and fixed up my hair ; or as some call it “nice messed up hair” I like my hair looking messy . No amount of gel is too much . I looked in the mirror to finish up the hair and remembered the dream .
I went back to the bed sitting room and wrote it down. I had no idea what it meant at first ; but eventually I did; or at least I think I do. I saw the face of my dance partner . The brown eyes I looked into were my own .
I will admit that I have never loved myself ; but lately I am liking who I am . Its not a vanity thing at all. When I look around and see other people or read stories in the news ; I am not that bad .
I am going to miss that dream of my faceless dance partner . The sweet smell of lavender.. The slight breezes blowing across the field. Maybe now is the time to go find the real one . I like me ; maybe others do to .
I will continue to write and in piece will be a piece of me. If I write of far off places ;I have probably been there in my dreams or hope to be in reality . If I write of a friend ; I wrote about him because I deeply cared and continue too . I am in the words I write. It’s kind of like Where’s Waldo ?
As for now I will look for inspiration around me . I know there is some to be found. I did what I promised for “C” .
Monday, October 12, 2009
Of Europe and Canada
I have sat atop steps just like these; looking down the narrow pathways that led me here . I have sat atop steps at Centenial Park here in Cambridge at the crest of Main Street . I have sat here both on my own and with one or more other people . I have sat atop steps like these in my waking hour and when I am deep in sleep and dreaming. I usually find a spot to sit and write. This is a photograph my friend sent me . It is in Italy . It was an odd feeling when I opened the attachment ; I had been there before ;yet I haven’t. It is in Europe and I have never been far from the borders of Canada. ….
I sat atop the steps waiting for you as you had asked me to. I had started off in the morning walking about the town looking at and falling in love with the architecture. I had never seen so many churches in one city and all had a different history to be told.
I wandered aimlessly through the town square ; people selling their wares . There were cars I had never seen before. This was all a new experience for me. “Buon giorno !” someone yelled from far above me . I looked above me and there was a young man waving ;”Buon giorno” he repeated . “Hello “ I yelled back towards him; shielding my eyes from the sun ,and waved . I continued on walking through the streets; stopping to get a cold drink from a sidewalk café .
I sipped on my drink and could not help notice the wall across the street from me. It was covered in gorgeous flowers. The wall of a building was an artists canvas . It was beautiful art and nature at its finest . I reached around to my backpack and took out my camera to take a picture. My journal fell from the backpack .
I took a few pictures and put the camera away and went to pick up my journal . “here you go .” a man said ; handing me the journal which had opened . “You write ?” he asked me.
I write pretty well everyday . “I do sometimes” I answered
“You are from America ?” he asked
“No Canada actually” I answered
“are you here long- I can show you around “ he offered
I was there for 3 more days so I answered “sure that would be a big help -Let me buy you dinner ?”
He smiled ;shook my hand and thanked me .
He showed me his city and then we stopped for dinner. It was only then I realized he was the young man yelling “Buon Giorno” from a balcony overhead . We sat and enjoyed our dinner; shared stories of our lives lived and yet to live .
“I am a singer; would you like to hear me sometimes sing ? “ he asked
As much as a free thinker I am ; I was in a new country and not sure how another guy singing to me would go over . I decided I was there to unwind so why not. He sang and it was like a morning dove . He had such vibrato to his voice it literally sent shivers from the base of my skull to my feet .
It was amazing. People at other tables around us applauded his talent . He got up from his chair and took a bow ; a huge smile on his face. “If singing is your dream and passion ; you go for it ! “ I told him
We wondered around town for a few hours ; him pointing out things I would have missed . We stopped at the base of some stairs and he shook my hand “ I will return soon ;I have to go now for a bit Joe-Meet me back here in two hours okay “
I wandered around the town square for a bit more and then decided to walk to the top of the stairs . I removed my backpack and pulled out my journal .
I must have fallen asleep . When I woke up I was sitting on a park bench ;fallen red and orange maple leaves beside me. I looked from the top of the hill and down. I was not in Europe, I looked and saw the quiet streets of Main Street Cambridge ; yet even here I can go anywhere . If you have a dream that’s in your heart; you have to follow it through straight from the start …
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Granny Brokenleg
Thanks to my sister for reminding me that tommorrow would be our granny,s 104 th birthday .
She could be feisty when she felt she had to be and she would shoot from the hip if she had something to say ; which was a lot of time. I would just snicker when she said what was on her mind and said it sometimes in her own uncensored way .
She used to always say she would never kick Tom Selleck out of her bed for eating crackers and sayings like that . I remember most of my time with her when she lived at Westgate. I would go up ther maybe 2 or 3 times a week and run to the grocery store for her . She would ask fro a loaf of bread , her cans of soup which were already stockpiled in her pantry , but she needed more. Haha . I never questioned "Granny you must have 40 cans of Tomato soup in there already " TUM-AH-TOE . True english . I used to ask "If its TUM-AH-TOE ; why isnt potato PO-TAH-TOE " She would just get a look on her face like I was beiing an ass and say "because it isnt "
She would hand me $20.00 and off I would go. I would bring the groceries back and put them away for her. Even though I only had to spend seven or eight dollars of the twenty she would insist that I keep the change. I always argued with her " Granny I dont do stuff to get money out of you . " She would insist I take something and ended up keeping the change and hand her the bills.
She would ask me to put the money away for her. Man ! She had so many different spots she kept her money; it was hard to keep up. There was a spot for the paper boys money.her Readers Digest, Her Foster Kids Plan money . I lost track . I went to put the money away in one spot ; which I didn't know was the paper boys spot . "What you putting $5.00 in his for . I didn't get Wednesdays bloody paper. I'm not tipping him five dollars. Put it in the dresser drawer under my sweaters.
I would sit and just chatter with her while she would sew or knit . The tv was always on but for background noise. I rememebr a few times just reading through the TVGuide and then setting it down .
"Not on THE Bible -nothing goes on top my Bible " she would scold .
Granny had to have her leg amputated because she was a diabetic and gangrene had set in. SHe had an artificial leg and even though I knew it was foam ; I'd get squeamish when she would stick her sewing needle in it and use it for a pin cushion .
Granny told me so many stories of growing up and having her kids and how she missed all the ones she hadnt seen in years . Granny never always had the best life herself and her kids were placed into foster care; but to this day I dont think Granny ever didnt miss them all. She gave them up becuase she wanted them to have a better chance at life.
At the end of each visit I would give granny a big hug and a big kiss. She would always kiss me on the right cheek .
Then she would say "come back soon " and say I love You Joe .Granny loved everybody ! If they pissed her off however; she let them know .
I love you too Granny . Happy Birthday .
Thursday, October 8, 2009
The sun and the moon and the boat
This morning I woke up at 6:45 ;something I haven't done in a long time . I stay in my bed for 15 minutes just looking out the window that faces the east . With the sun just uncovering itself from it's blankets of clouds ; it made the panes of glass look like sheets of gold . In the horizon I could see the hillside; leaves changing their colours for Autumn. If I looked directly straight into the sky ; the moon was still there ;almost as bright as in the evening sky .
I rolled out of bed ; sighed and wondered ,What are you getting up already for ? I trudged into the bathroom with barefeet ; almost hopping ,as the floor was cold on my tender tootsies.
I got dressed and took a walk downtown to grab a coffee. I walked past the Anglican church and like always looked up to the spire and the stained glass windows . I always have my camera with me in my jacket pocket so I took a few pictures. Yeah; I know . The church has always been there so why take pictures. I lay on the grass ; back flat against the wet ;almost frosty grass and aimed my camera high .
A woman happened to be walking her dog and she hesitatingly asked "Are you okay sir ? Do you need any help getting up ? " I held back all temptation to make a joke. I was tempted to take teh line from the old television commercial and say "I've fallen and I can't get up " but I resisted . I explained that I was just taking pictures from an insects perspective. She made an odd looking face and simply said " Oh ok then-whatever floats your boat " and continued walking
"Whatever floats my boat ?" I liked that . My life is my boat . I can take it wherever and however I want to . As long as I don't intentionally hurt people . I am my own Captain , if i feel like being gilligan I can.
I got up from taking pictures and continued on to the cafe . She was just opening up and saw me. "Whoa Joe; you are here early . Who pissed the bed ?" I had to laugh. I went in and sat; reading the paper . I really wish someone would come out with a Good News issue only . Yeah; I know there is bad in the world but why does it get all the focus . Yeah; I know bad news sells more papers. I turned to the entertainment (AKA gossip !) and read it .
I had my coffee and sipped on it burning my lips . Man it was hot ! "yeah Joe ; it would be hot . I can get you an Ice Cappucino. " the cafe owner joked . I love coming here. We can joke back and forth . "Ok " I said "BUT it has too have whipped cream and a maraschino cherry on top "
"Only you Joe-only you " she replied. Yes there is only one of me . There is only one of anyone. It's my boat ,I am my own captain.
I gave her the two hugs I often do . " Hey ! our hugs " is what I would hear if I ever forgot . We would hug each other twice and almost in sync we would say "Double double "
"See ya next time " and then I went on home. The light from the sun was still making the office windows look like sheets of gold. It was probably like that every sunset; today I noticed.
Maybe I am seeing a new light on things . If only I could get the bank to stop harrassing me .
Enjoy the sunshine my friends. If its cloudy, they will part and the sun willl shine.
I love you !
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Today I Picked a flower- for my friend Michael
Today I picked a flower ; I picked it just for you
I picked the finest rose I saw
The brightest rose of all
I could have picked a dozen -but I settled on just one
I could have had a prime bouquet ; a dozen fragrant flowers
I took my time and chose this ; in the end
I chose this one because it is special
Much like you are; my far off distant friend
I picked the finest rose I saw
The brightest rose of all
I could have picked a dozen -but I settled on just one
I could have had a prime bouquet ; a dozen fragrant flowers
I took my time and chose this ; in the end
I chose this one because it is special
Much like you are; my far off distant friend
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Lost in so many thoughts
Sometimes when I write these notes and post them onto my page; I will go back and read them over . Sometimes when I read them ; I know people will read into them what they want regardless of what I was writing. I know I can be a hard person to understand with my random videos and status updates but its all a part of who I am. For those of you who don't really know me but only know of my "character" on here I will share a bit with you. I am in love with the thought of Love; finding love,falling in love and hopefully staying in love and having all those reciprocated. I fall in love with good people-with good hearts regardless of what's in their pants . I like slow dancing-star filled nights-hot air balloons drifting by-sunsets-sunrises-wishing on shooting stars. I have slow danced with a guy just because he knew how much I loved to slow dance. I have danced under a star filled ;cool spring sky. I have gone to a barren field ; lay on the ground and stared off into space wondering-hoping I could change places with a star just for one night. I have wished on shooting stars ; hoping upon hope that one comes true. I don't have a huge circle of friends ; nor do I really want to. I find it hard to give 100% to my friends if I have an abundance of them ;so I hold my closest friends near to my heart. The notes I post on here are mostly for them and my family who really know who I am . To them I am a who ; not a what . They know ; and without question accept me. I know who I am; but if someone asked me "Joe What are you ?" I wouldn't know the answer. I am just a person who loves good people with good hearts; regardless of their parts. Over the past two years I have literally felt like the bottom had dropped out. My marriage ended ; my best friend at the time took off under cover of darkness without a goodbye or reason behind it. My coping mechanisms were shot . Ashamed yet unashamedly at the same time I admit to doing some bad shit to my body. I cut myself ;always the left arm. Looking back I think I cut that arm because it led to my heart. As morbid as it sounds; I have a picture of my arm that I will look at when and if the urge comes back. My arm feels like leather now . I see it everyday . If I have my dreams of falling in love ; dancing under the stars or just laying in a field looking at the stars while clasping hands with a great friend who loves and appreciates the who I am without caring what people think of him-I have hope. No one can take that away from me but me.
Sleep Forever
This was written when in was at what I thought was my lowest point. Things now are vastly improved .
I ‘ve been low before but not as low as now
I’m down so low-no getting out
I want to sleep forever -but I hear the people shout
I want to sleep in peace-sleep without a thought
I want to sleep forever; forever in my dream
I want to sleep and forget about the pain and sorrow
I want to fall asleep and not wake up tomorrow
I am not perfect - I never wanted to be
I wanted to be loved-unconditionally-for me
I was called weird , and hateful and “not easy to love”
I want to sleep -because when I sleep its bliss
I want to sleep and feel deaths kiss
You may call me a coward and I gave up the fight
But I fought more than you can ever know
I ‘ve been low before but not as low as now
I’m down so low-no getting out
I want to sleep forever -but I hear the people shout
I want to sleep in peace-sleep without a thought
I want to sleep forever; forever in my dream
I want to sleep and forget about the pain and sorrow
I want to fall asleep and not wake up tomorrow
I am not perfect - I never wanted to be
I wanted to be loved-unconditionally-for me
I was called weird , and hateful and “not easy to love”
I want to sleep -because when I sleep its bliss
I want to sleep and feel deaths kiss
You may call me a coward and I gave up the fight
But I fought more than you can ever know
View from My Window
Tonight is one of those nights when I don't really feel like doing much at all . I am just in a reflective mood and one of wonder. I was just sitting at my kitchen window with my back braced against the edge; feet resting on the sill . There is a slight breeze blowing through ; making my tossled hair even moreso. I sat there just staring out across the Grand River watching and waiting for the sun to set . I have been fascinated by the sunsets lately. I don't know if its just me or the orange and red hues as the sunsets on the horizon are more vibrant. As the sky darkens I watch for the stars . Every night I look out the window
and just like a small child ; I wait. I wait for the first star to appear and I make a wish on it . I only half heartedly believe in wishes but it gives me hope; however small it may be. When I do see the first star ; I make my wish and wonder if somewhere out there; at the same moment someone is gazing longingly at the same star and making the same wish I am . I wonder among the millions of stars shining overhead if someone is . I have a really good friend who is out of town and most likely sitting around a campfire looking up into the night sky . He shares my fascination with stars and sunsets . I wonder if he is looking at the same star . I wonder if he is making his wish . I can't help but wonder if he is thinking of me as I am thinking of him. There is no doubt that his night sky is far more awesome then I see out my kitchen window with the city lights dulling their vibrancy . I often wonder what it would be like if I were a star looking down onto this place we call earth. Would I be as fascinated by it and get choked up by what I see . The star I am watching twinkles once in awhile . How one thing that small to the naked eye fascinates me ; I don't really know , but I will continue to sit on my window ledge with legs dangling out ; wishing and hoping .
and just like a small child ; I wait. I wait for the first star to appear and I make a wish on it . I only half heartedly believe in wishes but it gives me hope; however small it may be. When I do see the first star ; I make my wish and wonder if somewhere out there; at the same moment someone is gazing longingly at the same star and making the same wish I am . I wonder among the millions of stars shining overhead if someone is . I have a really good friend who is out of town and most likely sitting around a campfire looking up into the night sky . He shares my fascination with stars and sunsets . I wonder if he is looking at the same star . I wonder if he is making his wish . I can't help but wonder if he is thinking of me as I am thinking of him. There is no doubt that his night sky is far more awesome then I see out my kitchen window with the city lights dulling their vibrancy . I often wonder what it would be like if I were a star looking down onto this place we call earth. Would I be as fascinated by it and get choked up by what I see . The star I am watching twinkles once in awhile . How one thing that small to the naked eye fascinates me ; I don't really know , but I will continue to sit on my window ledge with legs dangling out ; wishing and hoping .
Evening Dread
I usually dread the evenings ; not because I am afraid of the dark ;of which I am not. I dread the silence that comes with it . I know I am constantly thinking and the darkness seems to amplify it. I even sleep with my mp3 player on all night until the batteries are drained. When I am tired I sometimes have more on my mind or more that I may write down ;either here or on another site where I am completely anonymous. Sometimes its good to be anonymous because with anonymously and no face to be seen, there are no judgement calls. I know sometimes my writing can tend to be butterflies and flowery but that's who I am . I had stopped writing for a bit on here because I had someone say I was trying to be a martyr. That was and is so far off. I only write from my perspective on how I wish life could be ; not only for me but how it could be for others. We already know where hate has gotten us and intolerance.
I have dreams and they are not lofty ones. They don't even involve material things. I had a few come true lately; which I wrote in the previous note on here . I lived my dream; small in comparison to maybe yours ;yet still a dream . I spent a cold frosty night laying on the grass staring at the stars above ; tears in my eyes and an amazing feeling in my heart. I slow danced under the moon with only the music in our minds. I write from my perspective just like I try to live my life; from my own perspective. I know some people often wonder "what" is Joe all about. Is he the dancing ball of energy or is he that sensitive guy . Maybe I am somewhere in between or maybe I am more than one than the other. We don't ever know everything about a person; either by not really caring or choosing which parts we like. Maybe -just maybe the person doesn't want their true self to be known for fear of being hurt.
I have dreams and they are not lofty ones. They don't even involve material things. I had a few come true lately; which I wrote in the previous note on here . I lived my dream; small in comparison to maybe yours ;yet still a dream . I spent a cold frosty night laying on the grass staring at the stars above ; tears in my eyes and an amazing feeling in my heart. I slow danced under the moon with only the music in our minds. I write from my perspective just like I try to live my life; from my own perspective. I know some people often wonder "what" is Joe all about. Is he the dancing ball of energy or is he that sensitive guy . Maybe I am somewhere in between or maybe I am more than one than the other. We don't ever know everything about a person; either by not really caring or choosing which parts we like. Maybe -just maybe the person doesn't want their true self to be known for fear of being hurt.
Bitz About Me
My fave colour is black. I am not big into material things. I have always had few friends and I like it that way. The friends I do have I would take a bullet for. Love lasagna and beef stroganoff even though I cant make it edible. I pretend not to like cats or small dogs but I really do. I love stuffed animals and I still sleep with one for comfort. My huge vacation is not huge at all-just a day and night stay in Toronto. I am not big into celebrities but would like meet Justin lanning, Levi Kries and a few others face to face . Was too shy to talk to levi when he was here. Wind freaks me out-the only time I really pray. I hate the evenings on my own. I prefer snuggling and massage over the other although the other …. Can be really special with the special person. Although people assume I know a lot of people I don’t. I love sunsets-rainbows-dancing in the rain . Writing. Curling up in a ball on my floor rather than on my bed. Have had less partners than a lot of people expect I have- am not a whore although sometimes I put off the vibe. I have had chances at “quickies” and always turn them down but I am still a “man” maybe moreso .Can be outrageous to keep people away from me. Anything else you wanna know just ask.
Who Do I love ?
Someone asked me today ; "Joe ; of everyone in your life ;who do you love the most ?" To me ; you love someone 100% -there is no middle of the road. There is dislike-like and love. I don't think there is one person who is or was in my life that I went from loving to hating them. How could I hate someone ;when at one time I loved them. Sure there are things that upset me or even hurt me but I still love them. There are people on here and on my MySpace pages and even in real life that I love but I have never uttered those words too them. Some will even say " I know you love me Joe -you don't even have to say the words if you can't ; but I know you love me " Whoa ! Am I that transparent that some can see right through me ? Scary thought . There are some people who are no longer in my daily lives ; but I still hold deep feelings for them . I have never understood people who say they can stop loving someone on a drop of a dime. As much as I like to think I am in control of my emotions; I'm not. I don't think any of us are. Much like as we have no control over who we fall in love with or remain in love with. Things change -people change and some want change. As much as I think everyone wants to be loved;we also need to be loved . I have never bought into the giving into lust ;even if I have had a few too many fizzy drinks. To me its not fair to either person. I would sooner lie in a bed with someone I loved and wake in the morning with that person still next to me ; rather than going for a quickie and moving on. Not my style. There are people I fall in love with over and over again day after day . I have no control on it. As much as the three words can make a relationship that much better (I LOVE YOU ) they can ;at times be threatening to the other person . To be honest - I am afraid of love , but its a risk worth taking
Wishful
Wishful thinking and dreams are all I have ; of what will never be
But yet when I think of you -my heart it beats so free
As I write these words my tears are flowing
I know not where my life is going
My life is in shatters at work and at home
Maybe in life- I’m meant to be alone
Alone in my place – a lonely space
Just me and my thoughts of despair and disgrace
When I am alone tears cover my face
I wear a smile and its not really me
I wear it for others- it’s what they want to see
But yet when I think of you -my heart it beats so free
As I write these words my tears are flowing
I know not where my life is going
My life is in shatters at work and at home
Maybe in life- I’m meant to be alone
Alone in my place – a lonely space
Just me and my thoughts of despair and disgrace
When I am alone tears cover my face
I wear a smile and its not really me
I wear it for others- it’s what they want to see
Bits and Pieces
There really is no rhyme nor reason to what I am writing today. I was given an opportunity to write lately and I was going through my journals and notebooks to find a few pieces for them as they requested some samples of my writing. I pretty well carry a pad of paper and a pen wherever I go ; just in case something inspires me. It is more often than not that I find something to write about.
I digress; here are some of my random ramblings from my notebooks.
It feels like I am an artists blank canvas and you are the oil paint that colours my world.
...sometimes it seems as if you close yourself off to me; when often it is I who closes myself off from the world thats waiting for me .
When you walked into my life and my feet were weary from carrying my load , it was like seeing the sun shining between mountains .
..tonight I am writing under the light of one small candle with shadows cast upon my paper; barely able to see what I write until the morning light. It's now ; that I realize nothing is darker than what is in my mind. When the lights come back on; I see the words I wrote scattered on the paper-much like my thoughts. Neither here; nor there . Just are
People are like the sun and clouds. Some people in my life energize me and point out what is good about me , while others like clouds try to bring me down with what's wrong with me . I want to know what is right about me. Bring on the sun
Thinking and writing and breathing are all the same to me. I need them all to experience life from all possible angles.
In my mind ; when I am at my peak of positivity , I am slow dancing ...
...when I close my eyes late at night , you are there .When i sleep I see you-sometimes I can smell you in the room. When I put my pen to paper ; it is sometimes like you are guiding my hand while gently rubbing my thumb. No idea who you are. face unknown but heart of gold..
Joe Lethbridge 2009
I digress; here are some of my random ramblings from my notebooks.
It feels like I am an artists blank canvas and you are the oil paint that colours my world.
...sometimes it seems as if you close yourself off to me; when often it is I who closes myself off from the world thats waiting for me .
When you walked into my life and my feet were weary from carrying my load , it was like seeing the sun shining between mountains .
..tonight I am writing under the light of one small candle with shadows cast upon my paper; barely able to see what I write until the morning light. It's now ; that I realize nothing is darker than what is in my mind. When the lights come back on; I see the words I wrote scattered on the paper-much like my thoughts. Neither here; nor there . Just are
People are like the sun and clouds. Some people in my life energize me and point out what is good about me , while others like clouds try to bring me down with what's wrong with me . I want to know what is right about me. Bring on the sun
Thinking and writing and breathing are all the same to me. I need them all to experience life from all possible angles.
In my mind ; when I am at my peak of positivity , I am slow dancing ...
...when I close my eyes late at night , you are there .When i sleep I see you-sometimes I can smell you in the room. When I put my pen to paper ; it is sometimes like you are guiding my hand while gently rubbing my thumb. No idea who you are. face unknown but heart of gold..
Joe Lethbridge 2009
Birth and Rebirth
In about a week my only son will turn 18 . I remember the day my now ex-wife came home and told me with tears in her green-blue eyes "Joe ; we're pregnant " It was the best news I had been waiting for . We were married in June of 1990 and our son was born in August 1991 . During the entire pregnancy I would rub her belly feeling our son growing and eventually kicking . We would both talk to him in utero and had picked up some books already and read to him for the entire nine months before he was born . When it came down to his birth at the hospital I wnet into the delivery room and watched and cut the umbilical cord. I think i recall weeping openly . My ex-wife and I had already talked about how important it was that one of us would stay home with him and raise him the way we wanted to . I know most people say there is no way that one parent can work and survive , we made do . We put our sons needs and wants above our own . My wife was the primary earner so ; between us we decided , nmuch to my excitement that I would stay home and raise him . I remember his first steps , his first tooth ; really of his firsts. He used to sleep with his knees pulled tightly up against his chest and we called him "toad" . He had Pyloric Stenosis when he was a baby which caused him to projectile vomit rather than have bowel movements. We took him to the doctors; only be told that it was "first time parent jitters " and he would be fine. We knew our son . He had the operation . There was not a night that either my ex wife or I would lie with him in his toddler bed and read to him . My favourite story to read to him was "Goodnight Moon"
We enrolled him in swim lessons as a toddler; I think maybe three months old. I took him to Library Programs where we did activities together . I recall when they had a Superhero theme reading program and our son was "super Solar System Man " There are so many things I remember in the twelve years I stayed home and helped raise our son ; some that people would think are trivial . I would walk him to Stewart Avenue every morning and pick him up after school was done . When he was ready for bed at a younger age before going to bed he would say " Night Daddy I love you from zigzog to mool-moo " He made up his own planets and when I asked where they were he said " We can't see them -they are that far away " I knew it meant he loved me alot. He still loves me alot.
He comes to see me pretty well every Saturday and we watch a movie on the dvd palyer or I just watch him on the computer watching Broadway snippets . On this past Monday he called and let me know he had got his G2 Licence and wanted to know if I wanted to go for a drive with him . I did .
In about a weeek my son will turn 18 . I remember the day ; not so long ago when I thought I had lost everything . I had lost the job I lost most and it seemed that my friends were scattering away from me . It was a long haul but after seeing what I have and have to look forward to ; it was kind of my own re-birth in thanks to my son and so many others that made me realize that some people love me from zigzog to mool-moo . I love you that much too.
We enrolled him in swim lessons as a toddler; I think maybe three months old. I took him to Library Programs where we did activities together . I recall when they had a Superhero theme reading program and our son was "super Solar System Man " There are so many things I remember in the twelve years I stayed home and helped raise our son ; some that people would think are trivial . I would walk him to Stewart Avenue every morning and pick him up after school was done . When he was ready for bed at a younger age before going to bed he would say " Night Daddy I love you from zigzog to mool-moo " He made up his own planets and when I asked where they were he said " We can't see them -they are that far away " I knew it meant he loved me alot. He still loves me alot.
He comes to see me pretty well every Saturday and we watch a movie on the dvd palyer or I just watch him on the computer watching Broadway snippets . On this past Monday he called and let me know he had got his G2 Licence and wanted to know if I wanted to go for a drive with him . I did .
In about a weeek my son will turn 18 . I remember the day ; not so long ago when I thought I had lost everything . I had lost the job I lost most and it seemed that my friends were scattering away from me . It was a long haul but after seeing what I have and have to look forward to ; it was kind of my own re-birth in thanks to my son and so many others that made me realize that some people love me from zigzog to mool-moo . I love you that much too.
A Matter of Perception
If you ask several different people to tell you something about a person that you both know ; it is likely that they will use different words to describe them . It’s all about perception. Even in my own family of six siblings; two girls and four boys you will get different stories about our upbringing and our parents. When it comes to our mama ; I think we all agree that she is an amazing and giving and accepting person . When it comes to our Dad - there is a lot of differences of opinion ; which is fine. I have my own feelings and they have their own . I have written at times; stories about growing up but they are private stories . I think we all have things in our past that we regret doing or saying. Most likely there are things we should not have said and some that maybe we should have said ; but it was too late to say them. There are things that happened in our past that we try to forget happened but ; even as bad as some of them were , we learn from them .
Most of what I write is from in my head . I guess some people will think about what they write before doing it but I write about what I think ; which at times is why it can go off in so many directions. My thoughts don’t have a real beginning , middle or end. When I think I will write and when I stop thinking I just lie my pen down and go about doing something else.
If I go for a walk and just sit under an umbrella at a café and sip at my coffee ; extra large, double-double I see things around me which get me to thinking . It is often said that maybe I over think or over analyze . I am just taking what the world is showing and digesting it as best as I can.
People wonder why I write what I write about and find it surprising that I write the way I do. I think out of my sixty three face book friends I really only know about eight or nine in “real life” . I know my videos and even some of my profile pictures and status make me out to be a bit aloof but its only part of who I am .
I am actually quite shy at first and will always be the one to let you say hello first . It is never easy for me to make eye contact either when I first meet someone . I am said to be a big softy and I tend to fall in love at “first sight “ although I don’t base it on looks . I would sooner fall for some one with “average” looks and a beautiful heart than to fall in love with a “beautiful” person with an ugly heart.
If you ask several different people to tell you something about me ; it is likely that they will use different words to describe me . It’s all about perception.
Most of what I write is from in my head . I guess some people will think about what they write before doing it but I write about what I think ; which at times is why it can go off in so many directions. My thoughts don’t have a real beginning , middle or end. When I think I will write and when I stop thinking I just lie my pen down and go about doing something else.
If I go for a walk and just sit under an umbrella at a café and sip at my coffee ; extra large, double-double I see things around me which get me to thinking . It is often said that maybe I over think or over analyze . I am just taking what the world is showing and digesting it as best as I can.
People wonder why I write what I write about and find it surprising that I write the way I do. I think out of my sixty three face book friends I really only know about eight or nine in “real life” . I know my videos and even some of my profile pictures and status make me out to be a bit aloof but its only part of who I am .
I am actually quite shy at first and will always be the one to let you say hello first . It is never easy for me to make eye contact either when I first meet someone . I am said to be a big softy and I tend to fall in love at “first sight “ although I don’t base it on looks . I would sooner fall for some one with “average” looks and a beautiful heart than to fall in love with a “beautiful” person with an ugly heart.
If you ask several different people to tell you something about me ; it is likely that they will use different words to describe me . It’s all about perception.
Basics
The Sun is starting to shine on through
“Let me just be average – Don’t put me down nor place me higher than others”
My expectations ,goals or aspirations for me; as what makes me happiest , may not be yours but let me decide for ME what I think is right for me.
Things Just are ! or are not ! We don’t have to know the answers to all the questions when dealing with our own personal lives
Love is love –Don’t make it confusing !
We fall in love with WHO the person is –Not WHAT the person is .
You may think I work too much- I call it keeping my “sanity” in check
None of us is all right- but we are all okay !
The sun will shine !
“Let me just be average – Don’t put me down nor place me higher than others”
My expectations ,goals or aspirations for me; as what makes me happiest , may not be yours but let me decide for ME what I think is right for me.
Things Just are ! or are not ! We don’t have to know the answers to all the questions when dealing with our own personal lives
Love is love –Don’t make it confusing !
We fall in love with WHO the person is –Not WHAT the person is .
You may think I work too much- I call it keeping my “sanity” in check
None of us is all right- but we are all okay !
The sun will shine !
Into your eyes
Into Your Eyes
When I look into your eyes; we’re very much the same
Although we differ in ages-we have shared similar pain
There is no age where sadness starts to dwell
When outside we are quiet-inside we both do yell
We yell for acceptance in all the things we do
If you don’t judge me- I won’t judge you
I know we sit home at night alone
No ones around- a quiet telephone
They judge me and they judge you
No matter what we choose to do
It seems that no matter what we try
We seem to stay idle as the world passes by
One day when we are famous –they will give us a second glance
When we were “just” us –we never had a chance
When I look into your eyes ; we’re very much the same
LIFE is Worthing living-don’t treat it like a game
We may not alter the path of history
But the two of us are what we’re meant to be
When I look into your eyes; we’re very much the same
Although we differ in ages-we have shared similar pain
There is no age where sadness starts to dwell
When outside we are quiet-inside we both do yell
We yell for acceptance in all the things we do
If you don’t judge me- I won’t judge you
I know we sit home at night alone
No ones around- a quiet telephone
They judge me and they judge you
No matter what we choose to do
It seems that no matter what we try
We seem to stay idle as the world passes by
One day when we are famous –they will give us a second glance
When we were “just” us –we never had a chance
When I look into your eyes ; we’re very much the same
LIFE is Worthing living-don’t treat it like a game
We may not alter the path of history
But the two of us are what we’re meant to be
Today I walked....
Today I walked with no destination in mind. I do this a lot. I just grab my mp3 player full of songs and go. It kind of blocks out the external noise and helps to calm the seemingly neverending thoughts in my head. I took a walk down by the Grand River and sat on a bench and soaked up the sun. Then I walked to an old stone cottage which is now a horticultural centre. I walked the pavestone walkway and caught glimpse of some newly sprouting flowers. I had to stop and take pictures ;and think. If this little flower can survive underground all winter while feet of snow sit on top and survive that harsh surroundings ;then I should be able to get past my own turmoils.
My harsh surroundings are not mounds of snow ; rather they are people who have doubt in me or try to squash any or all hopes or dreams I have . I confess to be living with Peter Pan syndrome at times; wanting to have fun ;but never at my own expense or others . I have a heart that helps but also that hurts . I am a giver rather than a taker. People seemingly welcome my advice and say “Thank You” when it helps but it is always difficult to take my own. I have never put myself before others and that will never change . I listen to a song called “ I wanna grow old with you “ by Westlife which is how I wish my life were. Two weeks ago my career ended; today I came back to my apartment ;only to find out that my building is up for sale and I will need to look for a new place to live. Memories are in the mind but I find it difficult to come to the realization that my job is gone and my apartment; both places where those memories were made are soon to be gone.
That little flower nudging through the soil gave me hope . When I doubt my life will get any better ; I will look at that little flower and think of what it went through to come into this world.
I usually write my thoughts down rather than confide in anyone and that is because I don’t want to be a burden to anyone. I just want to be me ;allowed to have my down times and be the “ dancing ball of energy” or “goofball Joee” but I want and need people to be there for me; like I am for them . That should be how friendship works
My harsh surroundings are not mounds of snow ; rather they are people who have doubt in me or try to squash any or all hopes or dreams I have . I confess to be living with Peter Pan syndrome at times; wanting to have fun ;but never at my own expense or others . I have a heart that helps but also that hurts . I am a giver rather than a taker. People seemingly welcome my advice and say “Thank You” when it helps but it is always difficult to take my own. I have never put myself before others and that will never change . I listen to a song called “ I wanna grow old with you “ by Westlife which is how I wish my life were. Two weeks ago my career ended; today I came back to my apartment ;only to find out that my building is up for sale and I will need to look for a new place to live. Memories are in the mind but I find it difficult to come to the realization that my job is gone and my apartment; both places where those memories were made are soon to be gone.
That little flower nudging through the soil gave me hope . When I doubt my life will get any better ; I will look at that little flower and think of what it went through to come into this world.
I usually write my thoughts down rather than confide in anyone and that is because I don’t want to be a burden to anyone. I just want to be me ;allowed to have my down times and be the “ dancing ball of energy” or “goofball Joee” but I want and need people to be there for me; like I am for them . That should be how friendship works
The differences in people
The differences in people ; we should celebrate
With hugs and other acts of love-not hate
We are more alike ; rather than different
For all of us were heaven sent
Love is love !
Lets take a look around us –we really are the same
When hatred rears its ugly head-that truly is a shame
We are humans –we cry-we laugh –we love
We are one ! We are the same !
With hugs and other acts of love-not hate
We are more alike ; rather than different
For all of us were heaven sent
Love is love !
Lets take a look around us –we really are the same
When hatred rears its ugly head-that truly is a shame
We are humans –we cry-we laugh –we love
We are one ! We are the same !
Shower
Sometimes I shower three of four times a day
It’s not that I need them but they wash my tears away
My tears blend with the water so no one sees my pain
If I feel like crying-I ‘ll just shower again
It’s not that I need them but they wash my tears away
My tears blend with the water so no one sees my pain
If I feel like crying-I ‘ll just shower again
Spark to A Flame -Pauline's wedding Poem
This is small poem I wrote for a facebook friend of mine and here new husband.
"Love starts as a spark and soon bursts into a flame
Your life that once was; will never be the same
Today ;this day you choose to wed
Angels are gathering overhead
In joy and sorrow -together as one
Today ; a new journey has begun
Love can move mountains ; Love can heal pain
With love you see sunshine behind pounding rain
Today is your day ; the start of a new life
Together as one -husband and wife "
"Love starts as a spark and soon bursts into a flame
Your life that once was; will never be the same
Today ;this day you choose to wed
Angels are gathering overhead
In joy and sorrow -together as one
Today ; a new journey has begun
Love can move mountains ; Love can heal pain
With love you see sunshine behind pounding rain
Today is your day ; the start of a new life
Together as one -husband and wife "
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Legacy of "C" complete
I don’t even recall now looking back at it where I happened to meet “c” . I say “meet” although I never met him on a face to face basis . It must have been in a chat room on yahoo or somewhere. . He had messaged me and said he had seen some of my writing online . It was back in early March or April of this year. I was already going through my own stuff with my job soon coming to an end . Things were looking bleak . I have to be open and honest here as I think it will explain itself further into this story. I was into S.I which is self injury . I had been cutting myself on the arm and occasionally on my chest. It wasn’t long after I got to knowing and talking to “C’ that I put things into perspective I would learn that “C”’s life was far more depressing than my own . It hadn’t started off that way but soon spiralled down . “C” is the youngest of two boys . He always excelled in school ;volunteered before and after school and weekends and had been recently accepted into a University . His parents were middle class working folk. From what he tells me a typical Midwest family. He went to church every Sunday with them and his brother. “C” ,19 years old seemed to be from a Hallmark card . Then we started to talk . We talked about music and his love of playing the piano and writing music . “I’d sooner play the piano than do sports Joe; I really suck at them “ he said . Not everyone likes sports . I don’t like them myself. He’d ask me about why I write and when did I know I liked to do it so much . I told him I had always kept notes or a small journal but it had only been recently that I have stuck with it for any extended period of time. We would chat pretty well every night or we would email each other . Once in a while he would text me. “Good Morning distant friend-thank you “ is how he began his emails . He would tell me how his day was going and any plans for the weekend. I replied with pretty well the same information . One night he was particularly quiet . I almost had to pry a Hello out of him . I asked him if he was okay . “Joe; I have to tell you something but I don’t want you to get upset or stop talking to me” “C” The only way I will stop talking is if you ask me too “ I replied “Ummm I’m gay” I thought maybe he would have thought I would have hesitated in answering but I didn’t . “Yeah . And ?” I simply replied . “and it doesn’t bother you Joe ?” “I’m not a fan of labelling people “C” didn’t you read my poem ? “ “Yeah but I thought that was just a story -me being gay doesn’t bother you ?” I remembered him telling me back a few months ago how close knit his family were . I didn’t even think before I said what I did next . “C” you are so lucky your family is so accepting . Some people have such a hard time coming out “ “They don’t know Joe , I haven’t told them yet. Should I ? “ “C” you have to do what is right for you . Hey - You were open and honest with me . I’m sure you can tell your parents too “ I said -although at times I still regret saying it . “ I will -just not now . So how was your day Joe ? “ I felt he didn’t want to talk about it and I didn’t want to press the matter any further. The next few weeks were just general discussions about him going off to University in the fall and my everyday activities . I used to laugh at him when he would say “ I just messaged you but you must have been out getting coffee AGAIN -lmao “ He knew I had a fascination with coffee and going to the various cafes in town . Some people will differ in opinion when I say this but friendship can cross miles and you still seem to know the person . Sure ; you can’t give them a reassuring hug but other than that ; there is a bond-if you let it happen . “Can I ask you something sort of personal Joe ? “ he asked me a few weeks later “sure you can “C” ;ask me what ever you want ? “ “What does gay mean to you ? “ I dreaded the question . I have always had an issue with terminology concerning sexuality . I have never based any relationship primarily on sex . To me homosexuality infers sex with men if you are a man or sex with women if you are a woman I will explain it like this . I know I can lie naked in a bed with either a man or a woman ; however ; I need an emotional attachment to that person . To me pure love is non-gender specific. Some people think a skirt the issue with that answer. It is truthfully how I feel. If you ask three different people you are likely to get three different answers. The lasted definition I found is “ a person who has sexual and affection attractions predominantly to the same gender.” I’m sorry but labels belong on soup cans - not people . I have always judged a person on their character of who they are rather that what label has been attached . I answered him with “ I know I can lie naked in a bed with either a man or a woman ; however ; I need an emotional attachment to that person . To me pure love is non-gender specific. “ "that’s kind of how I feel about it to Joe ; why does everyone make it sound so dirty ? " he answered back “Not everyone C and I am not everyone “ I said "I'm glad your not everyone Joe--Hey do you ever feel down ?" "Yes "C" I think pretty well everyone has been down " "How did you deal with it ? " he asked I wasn’t going to lie to him. "I did a lot of crying- I was angry and hurt . I yelled and screamed and lie curled up on a bathroom floor for hours and I wrote down how I was feeling " I did however leave the part out about me hurting myself. I knew C was in a vulnerable spot . " I cry a lot too - I cried before I told my parents and am crying now . Maybe I will write it down too - but I am tired ok- I will talk to you tomorrow " “Hey C do you talk to anyone other than me about how you are feeling ? “ I asked I knew as much as I liked talking to him I couldn’t help him with me being here and him being there . “I talk to my counsellor at school Joe - I’m fine . I am going to tell my parents tomorrow. And then his familiar good night “Good night distant friend and Thank you “ “good night C -talk to you tomorrow -sleep well “ I clicked the mouse button closing down MSN messenger and then wept. I was worried how his parents would react. During the last while he had told me although they were a close knit family ; he said it was more about how his parents wanted them all to be perceived . That scared me . The next day : C was really quiet again . Once ; writing about everything-from a new song he had discovered to the "sweet guy" that just moved into his neighbourhood . He had grown quiet. "Are you okay C " I asked simply " I told my parents -they freaked ; my brothers okay with it ; he said he kind of figured as much " It was heart-wrenching to read what he was saying . I couldn't see if he were crying or not but I sensed that he was . "My dad just lost it Joe. He threw a lamp against the wall and left the house just screaming "My son the fag ! No son of mine will be a fag - He went out onto the street still yelling it " I asked him "How is your Mom with it ?" "Mom's just so quiet ; she hasn't said anything yet but she will ; I'm her little angel that does no wrong " I let "C'" talk . I listened only to answer if he had any questions . “My friends don’t even know yet Joe . How are they going to react ? “ “I don’t know your friends C but if they are real friends it shouldn’t make a difference to them . They should love you for who you are -who you always were.” “I hope so Joe but I have to go eat -ttyl “ click . He signed off . It had been three or four days since I heard from C ;either on messenger or email . I had sent him an email two days after we had talked but I never got a response. Then he signed on : “Hey Joe - how are you . I am sorry I haven’t been online the past few days . I am trying to deal with this. How is your writing coming along ? You should write a story about my personal hell -LOL JK “ I didn’t find that at all funny . To me he was in the midst of a personal hell . I had wondered what went on the last few days . “ I told some of my friends today Joe -some were real assholes about it but some are okay with it . My friend Rob was joking around about it saying “Sweet -now I have a date fro the prom and Joe I may take him up on the offer-lol “ I have always thought that it isn’t the quantity of friends you have but rather the quality of the ones you do have . I have never had huge amounts of friends but the ones I do have ; I love dearly . “If my own parents don’t care about me-who does ? “ I may have stepped over the line a bit but everyone needs to know I loved . “ C ; I care about and I love you as a friend . “ I stated “Maybe your parents just need time to think it all through “ “I think they did already . Today at church they wouldn’t sit with me. My dad made a lameass excuse and said he had to sit at the back of the church because it was cooler . Other people moved when I sat down beside them too . “ I was pissed hearing this . My friend went to church every Sunday; believing and knowing that his Maker was of goodness, love and acceptance; while others in his church leered or moved seats just to be away from him. It sickened me. Where was there compassion that the Lord teaches . “Joe, I am getting sick of hearing “No son of mine is a fag ! . Today my brother got in my dad’s face and told him to stop . My dad flipped and said to my bro “What are you a fag now too . My mom hardly says anything to me and she won’t tell Dad to stop . Okay enough about me Joe . What’s up ? “ “Not a whole lot C “ I said “ just looking for work and doing my writing to keep me busy . I may go out for my birthday next weekend “ “Oh yeah your birthdays on the 31st right . I am writing something for you Joe . I will email on your birthday” It was May 31 st -My birthday . There on messenger popped up “C” “Hey C how are you today ?” I asked “ Joe this is C’s brother . " I am sorry but my brothers funeral was yesterday" I completely lost it . I can only imagine how his brother felt . C’s one true ally through it all . I didn’t want to hear anymore and there was no way I could ask questions but his brother let me know that C had taken his own life the day before. Not because people didn't tolerate him ;rather because he was not accepted for who he was and was meant to be. I will be honest here . It has been 2 days since I wrote the last paragraph here. Writing this all down from my MSN chat log and emails is almost like reliving it again ; but C needs to be known . There were to be no more chats with C . May 29th C felt he couldn’t take anymore . I still have the emails he sent me ;from which this legacy is written from . A week or so ago I received a parcel in the mail from C which his brother had sent me. I have talked to “C”s brother off and on since May and he had expressed his own guilt over it . “C” had told me that he had never told his brother at first because he didn’t want his bother to feel the same “wrath of his parents “ as he did . “C” loved his brother so much. I don’t think there was ever a time I talked to “C” that he didn’t sing the praises of his brother. He loved his brother unconditionally ; just as C wanted to be loved . I opened the duo tang that was in the bubble wrap envelope and started to read . It was handwritten with little doodles drawn in each corner. I started to read and recalled the exact words I had spoken and he had spoken on MSN messenger . He had written or maybe saved the MSN chat log and had written down some of the jokes we told each other . His response for every blonde joke was “I dunno let me ask Britney “ I remember the one time he said “ hey Joe you gotta see this to get the full effect ; accept my webcam invite” There he was somewhere in the Midwest USA standing in front of his cam , t-shirt pulled up above his belly button making it look like he had a halter top on ; dancing like a fool . That was his Britney imitation. It was a two way street . He made me laugh when I thought I couldn’t and I did the same for him . I went back to reading what I received. I had to stop and wipe my eyes . I had sent him a few links to places my poems were posted and wrote him a personalized one . I told him I always write to get things off my chest and maybe he could do the same . He said he couldn’t write ; but what I was reading through glossy eyes said different. He wrote : This is for your birthday Joe : “They say family is blood and kin But what you mean to me, I don’t know where to begin You may be far away from here But in my thoughts and prayers you are so near ……… “ The poem went on but I will not say everything that was said in it . There were eleven pages of writing he did. He had written some things that he never got to tell me . He had written ideas on how he wanted to change the world and peoples negative views of others. He wanted to tell others his stories because he said there were a lot more in the world “trying to deal -so try to set people straight Joe -people are people and love is love , Don‘t they get it ?” Sorry C but a lot of people go around with blinders on ; not to upset their own perfect little world. “C” was only 19 but he was smarter than most people two or three times his age. He had listed things he wanted to do by the time he was 20 and 30 and 40 years old . He never made it to 20 . He did achieve a lot in his life; more so than a lot of other people . He was accepting of everyone regardless !! He volunteered before and after school and on weekends. He was a giver ; never asking anything in return . When he came out he was only asking for acceptance. Most never gave him that . “Joe I don’t know you but and it might be weird but umm after talking to you for awhile I love you as a person so don’t freak on me okay “ I had to laugh out loud when I read that . I get the same reaction sometimes when I tell my guy friends I love them . Its like I get a “WHOA down boy ! “ when I say that . Love is Love and love is an attraction of the heart -not the loins. Its not my issue if you take it in a manner other than I mean . “C” had written a lot and I had learned a lot . On the last page “C” wrote “Joe I hope you don’t think our talks and emails are not just all about me even though I talk about me . They are about both of us. There’s more in the world than just me “ I know “C” is not here anymore but I know his impact he made on me remains .“C” I know I never met you and it might be weird but after talking to you and writing you like we did; I love you too ; just don’t freak on me . Like you said Love is an attraction of the heart and man you had so much to give . C" did write it down . It tore my soul to bits and made me want to scream too. I can only imagine how "C" felt living the way others made him to feel . "C" you are not "the bottom of the gene pool " you are not a "waste of sperm " You are not "second rate " The energy people wasted on you in using vile names and actions against you is sickening This man ;great man did more than many others in his 19 years of life without looking for recognition for doing so. He just wanted to be recognized as a man who loved with his heart-100%. You are and were a class act . I love and miss you . Open Letter to C . I remember back in April when you asked me “ How is your writing coming along ? You should write a story about my personal hell -LOL JK and then when I read all your papers again and you told me to tell people your story ; I knew I had to . This is probably one of the hardest things to share. We shared a lot online and via email . You sent me that goofy picture of you in your Britney pose and you said it could be my “comic relief” . “C” I never took you as a joke . However I do have the picture sitting just above my computer . People soon have to realize and get it through their heads. Not everyone is going to be like them . That is why we are individuals . I learned so much from you . Others could have learned so much from you . I have written this so even one person may get it. Being who you are is not a bad thing . Your heart beat the same . You cared just the same ;if not more. Even through his whole ordeal of coming out ; you were there for me . YES . We were there for each other, exactly how friendship works . Thank You C for being who you were and who you are . Your story has been told . I hope you are at peace . Good night my distant friend Joe xo
This is for you "C"
This is a first installment for me of "The Legacy of "C" " A bit of background . "C" was an online friend of mine from the US of A - location is irrelevant as "C" could be any other young person out there. What I and he thought was important was his story. He told me in an instant message after he read some of my poems . "hey Joe -write a story about my situation. It doesnt have to be about me. It can be about anyone else out there . Someones got to clue in . I'm still the same "C" . As much as I am open about so many things and sometimes write things down ;some people still think I am sharing too much of myself. I have not shared as much as my friend "C" had. He was open and honest with his parents and friends . Most of them did not accept this. "C" was always who he was . It was the label that society gave him . Once he came out as gay alot of people forgot WHO he was and focused on the WHAT. His heart still beat the same . He cared just the same ;if not more. Even through his whole ordeal of coming out ; he was still there for me . YES . We were there for each other, exactly how friendship works .
Are you there for your friends when they are feeling low ? I hope so. That is when we need each other the most .
As part of my training for a volunteer position I am doing we covered sexuality and lifestyle issues. I know it is never easy for someone to come out and say "I'm Gay " . Some people feel the need to come out gay while others choose not to. Every circumstance is different. "C" was openly honest and felt that he didn't want to hide. Even before he came out ; he had asked me my opinion. I told him that had to be a personal decision as I didn't know his history or background at that point in time . He was an honour student ; a volunteer in his community. He had never been in trouble in his life but when he decided to come out ; none of that mattered anymore . He was no longer "C" he was now treated as dirt by so many people . People who should have been his biggest supporters.
"C" I said " You have to do what is right for you . " It was a few weeks later that I had noticed a change in his demeanor on chat. Once ; writing about everything-from a new song he had discovered to the "sweet guy" that just moved into his neighborhood . He had grown quiet.
"Are you okay C " i asked simply
" I told my parents -they freaked ; my brothers okay with it ; he said he kind of figured as much "
It was heart-wrenching to read what he was saying . I couldn't see if he were crying or not but I sensed that he was .
"My dad just lost it Joe. He threw a lamp agains the wall and left the house just screaming "My son the fag ! No son of mine will be a fag - He went out onto the street still yelling it "
I asked him "How is your Mom with it ?"
"Mom's just so quiet ; she hasn't said anything yet but she will ; I'm her little angel that does no wrong "
I let "C'" talk . I listened only to answer if he had any questions .
"Do you know any gay people Joe ? "
"Sure I do "C" I know quite a few "
"Whats gay mean to you Joe ? " I dreaded the question . I have always had an issue with terminology concerning sexuality . I have never based any relationship primarily on sex . To me homosexuality infers sex with men. I will explain it like this . I know I can lie naked in a bed with either a man or a woman ; however ; I need an emotional attachment to that person . To me pure love is non-gender specific. Some people think a skirt the issue with that answer. It is truthfully how I feel.
"thats kind of how I feel about it to Joe ; why does everyone make it sound so dirty ? "
"Not everyone does "C" I answered "and I am not everyone "
"I'm glad your not Joe--Hey do you ever feel down ?"
Not long before I started talking to "C" I was in the midst of depression but I wasn't going to tell him that then but I did answer "Yes "C" I think pretty well everyone has been down "
"How did you deal with it ? " he asked
"I did alot of crying- I was angry and hurt . I yelled and screamed and lie curled up on a bathroom floor for hours and I wrote down how I was feeling "
" I cry alot too - I cried before I told my parents and am crying now . Maybe I will write it down too - but I am tired ok- I will talk to you tommorow "
"C" did write it down . It tore my soul to bits and made me want to scream too. I can only imagine how "C" felt living the way others made him to feel .
"C" you are not "the bottom of the gene pool " you are not a "waste of sperm " You are not "second rate " The energy people wasted on you in using vile names and actions against you is sickening.
You are and were a class act . I love and miss you .
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