Tag: thoughts

For The Ages

Posted on by Paul In The Buff

From December 2009

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Speaking as a matter of fact
He presses hard against his chest
Feeling the heart that beats within
Slowing to a pace more normal for him
“This change has come about,” he states,
“and I realize it combines our fates.
But less we hasten to a conclusion,
For together we can find a solution.”

He could do nothing as she parted
The unwinding of this threat had started
Without his knowing, just a hint
Although he knew it was merely a stint
Not life renown to be his own
Only a step for her as he was a stone
A support; a crutch to a future so great
And deep in his heart he knew he didn’t rate

With fond memories of what never would be
And a thought of what she couldn’t see
He stood with a tear rolling down his cheek
And wondering how he could be so meek
To let all of this slip away

But then he remembered…

The memory returned…

And he recalled that fateful day
Many years before they had met
A day no others would remember, I bet
The day he learned of this awful fact
Given in a lesson lacking tact

Unlovable
Unwanted
And easily forgotten

“Oh yeah,” he thought, “I guess I should let you go.
There is no way I could keep a girl like you
Such beauty; an angel on Earth you are
And me, just a dog groveling to be
Something more special to someone, you see
But this, us, this thing was never meant to be.
I wonder what you ever did see in me.
Something more than a forgettable wretch,
Better than dull and meaningless would be a stretch.
A provider perhaps, someone to care
When you were in a worse place than here
But now you’re on your way to better things
And I would only dampen your wings
So we will move on and you’ll be on your way
But, honestly, if I have to see you every day
I’ll probably go crazy, too crazy to discuss
Because my heart will never give up on us.”

A Crazy Day

Posted on by Paul In The Buff

A quick story about the struggles of air travel, from January 20, 2009

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Crazy day. A tale that actually began and ended at Gate 2. The gate used by the flights going to and returning from Regan National.

I had to go to Louisville today for a couple days worth of work which I managed to finish in just less than 5 hours total time. So I turned myself around and grabbed a flight back home. Made for a nice 20 hour day with travel and all, but being at home and alone I guess is better than being in Kentucky, at all.

Almost didn’t get there though; this morning at Regan National, they couldn’t find our plane.

If you’ve never flown US Airways Express through Regan, consider yourself lucky, but then listen to how archaic this system is:

Flights all park out on the tarmac and the airport buses the passengers to and from the planes and the terminal. They have two gates from which all express flights depart, which basically just designates which bus you get on, but they release three flights for boarding at a time.

Fortunately this morning was a light traffic day, unlike the afternoon, and evening when Regan National turned into a zoo because of the inauguration ceremony tomorrow. There were only about 10 people on the flight to Louisville but we all got a tour of the departure area because they couldn’t decide which plane was actually ours. So the bus took us from the terminal, to a plane, and back… then back out to the planes, then back to the terminal… then back out to the planes…. Then back to the terminal.

In between each trip the driver had to have a face to face discussion or argument with crew, ground personnel and the gate dispatcher. He has a radio on the bus, so I still have no idea why he had to drive back and forth to discuss these things in person.

But eventually we found a plane they would let us use and imagine the surprised crew who had been there waiting for us for 20 minutes.

Ahhh… Monday mornings are the best.

And next week I start five straight weeks of work in Louisville…

I will need drinks. Lots of strong, strong drinks.

Sunday Night Story

Posted on by Paul In The Buff

It has been a long time since I've bored everyone with one of my Sunday Night musings, stories or Vogon quality poems. Here is a little look inside my head from August 29, 2009.

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Isn’t it funny how often we consider our own lives and the paths we took, and ask ourselves, “was that the right path for me?”

Ok, maybe I’m the only one. I do self-reflect a lot. I think it helps me re-stabilize myself and figure our just what the hell it is I’m doing. Not necessarily what I’m doing right, or what I’m doing wrong… but just to pay attention to my own actions and how they relate to the things I want.

When I was younger my dream was to move to California and bum around a lot. High ambitions, I know, but I wanted to get away from my family, and the feeling of being trapped by expectations I would never live up to. I wanted to find my own way, learn to live and survive on my own, and become a different person than my environment made me.

Life happens. I never made that trip, and I’m still here. Am I becoming the person I wanted to be? Slowly, I think I am. Do I stay on that path? Not always… life is tough. There is a lot to do every day, tough decisions to be made, heartaches to get past, responsibilities to live up to, tasks to put behind, expectations… always expectations from myself and others…

*whew*

It’s a lot.

But I feel fortunate for the good people in my life that I love and cherish that help me through it every day. They live up to the only reasonable meaning of life I’ve ever found – each of us helping each other get through it, whatever it may be.

Still it comes down to me. What do I want and how do I go about getting it? Questions I ask myself and far too often have no answer to.

But since I’ve stopped travelling I feel like my life has grown a bit stagnant. Time to start looking outside of these walls again…

Stone Ground

Posted on by Paul In The Buff

Lying on a bed of slate and stone
Spirit empty, for love unknown
Broken hearts mend slower than bone
Flesh stings from wounds not sewn
Body lacking both hearth and home

Something... Rome? Nome? Garden Gnome?

...and shit, now I've got nothing.

Sometimes my poems happen that way. I have such grandiose plans to make them something special, something emotionally challenging and stirring. Something that will take the reader's breath away. Then I lose my train of thought, and get lost in the words of others usually. It's different now than in the days when I would focus on music I can feel, the mind blanking white noise of jet engines and the body numbing release of drinking until I had my fill.

And here these words sit. Idle. Not moving. Not moving anything or anyone.

Maybe they should sit on their own. Maybe they need some accompaniment.

A photo? More verses? A quote that can give them balance?

If this was a piece of paper I would probably just spill some coffee on it for character...

Oh, and in case you missed it "Ground" in the title is a verb, past-tense. Not a noun.

Just clarifying.

Immortality

Posted on by Paul In The Buff

"If a writer falls in love with you, you will never die."

This highway teems alive at night
With dusty clouds in streaking lights
To guide the moths all seeking life
With the never near and never far
When two hearts find their missing part
Making the picture perfectly clear
This was what they needed from the start

Time divides in subtle ways
The life of love doesn't age with days
And when all else has failed, love remains
Not sunsets near, nor sunsets far
They cannot change hearts or stars
From beating bright into the night
And seeking each other in streaking lights