the mEp
j   u   n   e     2001
  Lyrics of Life


oops- July arrived on the planet but poots missed it

wednesday, July 4th 2001            sing praises to the living God

where is the heart space
where is the head space
where is the physical space
too bad no one asked me that yesterday

i can take several angles; here. silly painted nails have freed me from keyboards.
what will free me from swirling dreams; from modern-day angst grown tired?
the boss is going to brazil, the c.v. sent to stockholm, and my absence notwithstanding.
either i'm taking life or it's taking me, hand in hand, places neither of us recognize.
one of us is mischievous and i'm blaming the other.

extra java and little desire to excercise this morning, i'm holed up here with no modem.
at least there's no more click-cick on the keyboard.

a shiny silver hunk of galvinized metal and high tech plastic with an ODO reading of 25 sits in front of the building. is this my beautiful wife?

sing praises to the living God, not for me but for the ones that are not.



tuesday, June 26th 2001

i guess i'm spending more time just surviving and wondering, than i used to. i used to have more hobbies. well i do like to write here, that's a hobby. but that's still surviving. i'm just finished learning about latin names of plants, the history of  new york city and the types of cheese that pair will with a nice sauternes. so we're watching now, as i've repeated here many times. watching, waiting...


saturday, June 23nd 2001
scribbled 24/11/93:
a well-insulated building
An unfinished address
love is more of a verb than a feeling. if you love someone, love
them. that's why it's never jealous and doesn't take offense.

saturday, June 23nd 2001

i'm hanging out 'online' which makes me a geek. better that. playing and waitin' for emails again. behind me some newly watered charlie brown plants begin to grow in the sauna-like humidity  of the garden. the world is wet. i type a line, i ftp. it's live. alt-tab. enter.
alt-tab. enter. alt-f-save  alt-tab. enter. who needs a mouse.

yes, i'm bored but i'm enjoying it. still two more days to run around and panic, on this long weekend in quebec, but i dont even do that anymore. work is somewhere i go, it's the club i belong to, it's the space that defines a large part of me. these are the things you realize.

chewin' chewin' maybe i'm hungry again.

FREEday, June 22nd 2001

i have no defenses. i embrace all things good. i operate sans master plan.  freckled people look away.   i can still feel them seeing me.    what does a glance translate into,   many things and perhaps nothing at all.         perhaps nothing at all...

sharing zones. strength and sublime. there are places even i cannot go. this is odd, for me. part of who i am has a crust; thicker than i'd predict and apparent in unusual places, however oddly useful in emotional special times. and i feel guilty about this? my only choice is to revere it, since one of the options includes losing control. there are times for that, there'll be others. just writing these words instills a mild sense of fear in me. i won't go there anymore in my private time. i do so today in solidarity. in strength. in control.

bubblings in the world, no time for laundry; local holidays, big scary meetings, 7:52, soaring airline prices,

poots continues to juxtapose.

oh summer, i have waited
for your sweat beneath my brow;
oh summer, i have waited
waited for your baby greens
waited for the sites unseen
in winter, i have waited
each day for a glimpse of you

thursday, June 21st              2001
banging banging over my head. carolynesque words trying to squeeze through the noisy cracks.
i'm waiting for absent emails, washing the dishes with long nails, and maintaining a balance here of who i really am.
wednesday, June 20th              2001
june 20. sounds like one of those familiar days doesn't it.  it's not, really.

"if i had to be strong; don't you know i need to have tonight when you're gone"

there are  some words longing to be released in sympathy here. i cannot listen to the political banter any more - this is negativism which affects me personally, in a dis-proportinate manner. i cannot read about the end of the universe because it affects me in a way that is counter-productive to my productivity here in this life. there are just some things that a sensitive person must learn and one of them is to avoid.  so we're avoiding.

what is today's words of wisdom dear. it's those 'feeling like you're missing something' days.
it's those 'should i be on vacation now' days. it's those 'who are the next-door neighbours anyways kind of feelings, those 'my parents are out of town' and 'where are my siblings' days. it's those 'are they mad at me days' it's those 'do mike and heather really want to call us or are they just being polite' days. it's those 'is john not inviting us camping because i cooked sausages in the rain or because they just simply don't  feel like going' days. it's those 'just shut up and enjoy the peace and quiet days' it's those 'kathleen was reading her email why didn't she reply to mine days'  it's just those kinds of days. pendulums visions swings from  my sitting around this street unemployed and depressed to let's get the heck out of here and finally! build hospitals in Africa to let's have a baby even if i don't have a job one day to how the heck can i get into Coradiant, anyway.

tuesday, June 19th              2001
what is stability.

back to ordinary time. a break from the nearly-solstice humidity lasted but yesterday in the sunshine. now the thicky sticky poofy clouds of heat are back. butter-knife cutting thick, the air sits still on top of everything. i'm here, it's early, the newspaper is read, i slept enough, tech stocks are still falling, and Bombardier is making more airplanes for everyone. back to normal.

i'm drinking the same morning-routinized java that i've been buying for more than ten years at a grocery store i walk into and never buy anything else. ground number 2, it delievers akin to what an American coffee in Paris tastes like, only i put two heaping teaspoonfuls of sugar. for a while i was putting sugar cubes but they're kind of useless for much else. remember those fancy cubes, packaged two by two in those huge cafés...

i'm staring at - well not the same screen - but the same virtual space - that i've been staring at for nearly 5 years now. that after staring at paper spaces for nearly 20.

these are the things that are stable in my life. i think it's a good excercixse to have stable spaces in life, spaces that only you have control over. things that no one else can take from you. somewhere no one can tell you you can't go anymore. something that pays you in your own personal currency.  how much solace would this space bring if i had been told yesterday that i no longer have my job?

-  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  - -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  - -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -

 i should be walking now. we had a picnic.  it rained during the night, odd. the upstairs is being renovated in this old building where we live downstairs. we'll have new neighbours soon.

it's dark outside.
it's raining.
it stopped raining.

SATURday, June 17?th              2001

i'd really like to explain something in clear plain english. i think.

married people sometimes lie in bed on hot sweaty nights discussing their friends. it's nice to have friends to discuss. this is especially evident on nights when one could wring the air of it's thick, sticky sweat. on those nights, life is realer. whether you like the weather or not, you're interacting with the world in a very rare way. perhaps - EPIPHANY - i suppose that's why so many peole don't like it. wow. it's moments like these that i live to write for. i guess this is just too much of reality for some folks. actually having to interact with the environment as though we actually were a part of the ecosystem. you may log off now and dismiss me as an internet loony, go ahead. i'm smiling now, i love these moments no matter how f**g private they may be. we all deserve a little privacy now and then, n'est ce pas? :-)

so that's not the point i set out to explain. how easily can one explain one's geeky friends and be proud? these are the stories of my life. trying to explain other people's one-dimensional experiences in my eight-legged touchy-feely words.  i see things the same way everyone else does, only then, i rearrange them, run them through filters, remove all the filters, become 12, go to  venus, dismiss all the media-upbringing i can, and then make other conclusions. at that point, i forget what my original conclusions were and since i've had so much fun seeing things my way, don't bother trying to go back there. no one says that no one else is capable of doing this, but i can assure you that most people keep it pretty secret.  in any case no one else has my particular combination (nor yours for that matter) of filters, 12-year old, planetary inclinements, etc., etc., etc.. the only difference is that  some people know that, and some don't.

not sure that's clear plain english, but then again, not so sure that clear plain english can explain it.

what else did i want to say. oh yea, our geeky friends. geeky is one of those words that has subjective connotations. if one is not emmersed in a techy world, geeky might still mean what it meant in 1975, which i suppose isn't such a compliment. i think there's a web site somewhere that defines a geek as a nerd that makes money. well this kind of gets me into a bigger mess, cause our friends aren't nerds, either. you're wondering if i'm so freaking free, why am i trying to classify my friends. aren't you. it' because when you see the world from so many different places like i do, it becomes important to organize things. fact of the matter is, we can't escape our boxes. i'm not sure what the point would be. it's natural for nature to organize, cavemen did it, and in this increasingly complex world of media circi and boxes - it's really really important to know where you stand. think of it not as a restriction but a life-aid. i know i'm losing you one by one now, but bear with me i'm really going somewhere intersting.  lol.

it's fun to classify things. it helps put you in a spot. it makes you feel warm and fuzzy all over. remember when you were little and you felt safe in front of the Christmas tree (feel free to use other examples here). you belonged somewhere. your parents (hopefully) took care of you. (i'm just realizing as i'm typing that there may be peole who never felt that way) (i realize as i'm typing that there may be people who STILL feel that way) (I realize as i'm typing that there may be people who didn't like feeling that way) (i realize as i'm typing that there may be people who didn't know they felt that way) (i realize as i'm typing that there may be people who wanted to esaape feeling that way) (i realize as i'm typing that there may also be people who have allowed the media and the boxes that the world has created comfort them into some kind of modern day Matrix in replacement of that security that the Christmas tree and their parents still in bed gave)
i also realize that i am one of those people. that's precisely why i need to organize everything. instead of simply following all the media suggestions (i do follow some) i try to take a look at all the plausible variations and digest them to come up my own  subset of comforts. BEING ABLE TO CLASSIFY EVERYTHING IS THE PINNACLE OF THIS COMFORT  ZONE.  whether i'm right or wrong is not the point. i need to be in control of my view of the world. that's why i take so many angles, that's why i need to know i have geeky friends, so which came first you ask. needing to be in control, needing the security and comfort, the need to consider my open-minded, the need to feel a part of the Matrix. i'm not sure, you tell me.

all this to say what i scribbled in my paper diary late last night in the tossing and turning heat of this great city, "discussing our friends being geeks". then, there's merely the other possibility that our geeky freinds would have simply been complimented by my having written here that they are geeks. funny part is, i'm exhausted now and that's probably the most likely.

people don't take things as seriously as i do, do they? i keep reminding myself this.


summer        h   e   a   t

                                     wraps   us   up


wednesday, June 13 th  2001

oh summer, i have waited
for your sweat beneath my brow;
oh summer, i have waited
waited for your baby greens
waited for the sites unseen
in winter, i have waited
each day for a glimpse of you


wednesday, June 6th  2001               and now for the rude portion of our show: skyward and backward; or moons and assholes.

it was one of those hazy scary movie full moon nights and most of the neighbours still had some lights on. And the poofy clouds over the city are white, in the middle of the night. and this little webgrrl musters a whimper of God's honesty in front of a waiting crowd. it's hard to be objective when i'm so good at being subjective. so what's to be drawn from some unsuspecting soul who tells you they hate two people you spent years growing closer to despite some irreconcilable differences. not taking sides is not my forté; do i wish to change this?

ever have that wierdly uncomfortable with your own assumptions feelings when you notice yourself being critical of someone who is doing something that you actually wish more people would do?

and how honest can i be on a website, anyways? maybe i lied a bit there. maybe i just told it like i wish it could be.

then there's the entire notion of who's friends with the 'asshole' which brings us to 'somebody has to be the assholes friends' to  'who's the 'asshole'' now doesn't it. well that's where it brings me. there just doesn't seem to be any such thing as an ashole in a vacuum. not the way i see it, anyways, and i'm generally good at seeing things. but then again, remember, i may be the asshole.


tuesday, June 5th  2001

happy to wake out of dreams unbelievable. some are understandable, some unconscious gone mad, i'm sure.  finding old rocks that we painted as children in the backyard; my loved one shooting a man in the forehead with a bee bee gun (in the us) then driving away madly!
 love trio with people from the television, and all caused by cold shoulders in bed.

poots wants more coffee!

coffee making.

poots has a sore back

sirens in the city

coffee's ready

i can't tell you how i love this city. how after riding through the pretty, tranquil neighbourhoods of the west, i felt invigorated to return to the narrow busier streets of the plateau. i see mystery here, intrigue, unkowns. i feel change in the bones, advancement, fear.

saturday, June 2  2001

perhaps  my heart is perfect. my brain has mistakes in it. i'm heart strong and head strong.
i'm grateful to have a car but infuriate that we get ripped off by greedy companies
it's not necessarily my heart talking, no matter how heart-strong i am.

it's not necessarily a failure of a saturday just because i'm the only one in it, is it?
everyone's got their own theories; they're just surviving like me.

candles lit; candles burned; i'm back in the draper-space.
i like it here, minus the hot ear.
empty spiral books adorn this table in the back room;
there's a stillness in the air that immobilizes my nostalgia.
when things are still, my thoughts go backwards. memories are still;
air doesn't move in your heart and mind's eye. i can't think of any better
reason, can you? were all my youthful days still ones? unmoving in my heart,
the interactivity of this place still fascinates me, after all these years
i can bring you from here to there in a click click.

solstice will always remind me of her..

p.s. poots chose

friday, June 1  2001    how rare is a perfect heart?

"my heart wants to beat like the wings of the birds
that rise from the lake to the trees
my heart wants to sigh like a chime that flies
from a church on a breeze
to laugh like a brook when it trips and falls
over stones on it's way
to sing through the night like a lark who is
learning to pray"

-Sound of Music / Rogers and Hammerstein, 1959

if my heart rules the mind, why is it fallible?
is the translation lost between them, or do they merely work at differing speeds.

Welcome june and White Rabbits to you.

chilly fingers in early june and i'm chewing chewing chewing.
planned power failures momentarily - ! ftp ftp ftp


copyright Poot's Place 2001