bardiphouka | Recent Entries

Need to get my passport renewed. Have to decide if I want to have both a Passport card and book. Most of my travels will be back and forth to Canada. But I do plan on at least one or two trips tp Europe, money agreeing.

Why will I have the time..because I am being made redundant on 1 July. These things happen,eh?

Meanwhile as the Sun shines (or at least it will in an hour or so) and the temperatures prepare to rise to actual May temperatures, I am left wondering what the world will be like after 1 July. Why then, you wonder? Because that is when I am being made redundant at my place of employment. These things happen.

Come the first of July I am being made reduntant at my company. With luck I could survive for some time and try writing as a profession (actually I will be writing as a profession because I will be working part time for a startup ezine in Montreal). Has anyone else tried writing as a living? Or want to?

Not sure if anyone is reading here, in fact I am fairly confident they are not, but I am here anyway. Allo.

A slightly odd feeling but a logical one this

Kissed any one of your Livejournal friends? Yes

Been arrested? Yes

Kissed someone you didn't like? Yes

Slept in until 5 PM? Yes

Fallen asleep at work/school? Yes

Held a snake? Yes

Ran a red light? Yes

Been suspended from school? No

Experienced love at first sight? YES

Totaled your car in an accident? Yes

Been in a vehicle at more than 100 mph? Yes

Driven a vehicle at more than 100 mph? Yes

Been fired from a job? Yes

Fired somebody? No

Sang karaoke? yes

Pointed a gun at someone? No

Done something you told yourself you wouldn't? Yes

Laughed until something you were drinking came out your nose? no

Caught a snowflake on your tongue? Yes

Kissed in the rain? Yes

Had a close brush with death (your own)? Yes

Ever feared for your life? yes

Seen someone die? Yes

Played spin-the-bottle? no

Sang in the shower? Yes

Smoked a cigar? Yes

Sat on a rooftop? Yes

Smuggled something into another country? Yes

Been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on? no

Broken a bone? no

Skipped school? No

Eaten a bug? Yes

Sleepwalked? Yes

Walked a moonlit beach? Yes

Drove a motorcycle? no

Dumped someone? Yes

Forgotten your anniversary? Yes

Lied to avoid a ticket? Yes

Ridden in a helicopter? no

Shaved your head? yes

Played a prank on someone? Yes

Hit a home run? No

Felt like killing someone? Yes

Cross-dressed? no

Been falling-down drunk? Yes

Made your girlfriend/boyfriend cry? Yes

Eaten snake? Yes

Marched/Protested? Yes

Accidentally killed your pet? No

Puked on an amusement ride? No

Seriously & intentionally boycotted something? YES!

Been in a band? yes

Knitted? no

Been on TV? Yes

Shot a gun? Yes

Skinny-dipped? Yes

Hit someone intentionally and hard? Yes

Eaten a whole habenero pepper (or other hot pepper)? yes

Ridden a surfboard? no

Drank straight from a liquor bottle? Yes

Had surgery? Yes

Streaked? No

Taken by ambulance to hospital? Yes

Unintentionally exposed a usually covered part of your body in public? Yes

Been in some type of beauty pageant? No

Passed out (when not drinking)? Yes

Peed outdoors? Yes

Donated blood? Yes

Grabbed an electric fence? Yes

Eaten alligator meat? Yes

Eaten your kids' Halloween candy? yes

Hit a deer with your car? no

Peed your pants in public? no

Snuck into a movie without paying? yes

Written graffiti? yes

Still love someone you shouldn't? yes

Been in handcuffs? yes

Sleep on a certain side of the bed? Yes

Have a tattoo? no

Have a piercing(s)? no

Believe in ghosts? yes

Do you really think anyone will be interested in this. NO!

Ah yes, it is March. Which means I have 4 months left before my job walks away. Although today it would be more likely to swim. I have been awake since midnight listening to the thunderstorms and the hail. And in two of the surrounding counties they have had tornados. When I got to the bus stop it was clear again. I got to work still dry, had a cup of coffee, walked down to UDF to get some kleenix still dry. Walked out of the UDF into heavy rain and thunder. Walked into work and the power flashed off. Just long enough to disconnect us from our net service. Got that back up but I really wish I had some dry clothes to change into.

Just out of curiosity. Are any of us still here?

Current Mood: curious

We are alone but not.
We overlap, each of us
with another or another
like the words of a poem
about the City.

The City which grows
more itself as we grow
within each other the
City which is your
mother, your lover
your the City
which is part of you
and you a part of
the heart of the CIty

Listen to the rumble
of an angry moon
a lone motorcycle,
headlight vibrating
from the engine
the uneven bricks
street glistening
from an evening rain
revealing the
branches of thick
trees lining like lovers
the blossoms
sweet, heavy,
innocent. for now.

Let us go then, said the woman who has
eyes the colour of Mozart and hands that
look like they are about to touch the past
yet again in the morning of our
discovery that the City moves and yet
floats unmoving and the memories
of a woman whose age, like the City,
floats without growing old , only growing
more and more in the soft light of
dawn as she prepares to go.

This city has pigs
flying pigs. They hover
along the riverbanks.

It is April and this city
has trees bearing fruit
words, dripping and dancing
in syllables from the branches

It is April and outside the library
the poet tree offers its fruit
of phrases for free.

Streets full of people being
nudges and shoved from
wave after wave of
thrusting rain combined
with hail pounding away

the afternoon sounds
are overhwhelmed
bu thunder and lightning.
A reminder that no
matter how many cities
we build those
cities still exist
on Nature's sufference

They have fenced in the site
to keep the past safe inside
or the future out and away or
perhaps to stop them from
blending like ex-lovers
meeting one last time
passions meeting like
sunrise over the ocean.

127.0.0.1
127.0.0.1

He whispers to himself
walking down the street
listening to the cadence of
his feet, of everyone's feet
like sound bytes following
him from his computer.

127.0.0.1
127.0.0.1

She whispers to herself
walking down the street
part of her deconstructing
the streets and the people
that she passes by
intol infinite pixels

127.0.0.1
127.0.0.1

They pass each other every day
whispering each other's
secret name.

(for those unaware, 127.0.0.1 means home)

One thing poets and politicians have in common
to start a subject with "I had a dream"
I had a dream, no.

Dear City I rode in the first time on a
bus when they still smelled
like dead dinosaurs in the dead of night.
But I was wide awake because the
City is no dream, nor nightmare but
the sounds and smells and grit
of reality

power is so much more intense when
felt with the breaths of life.

Is there a game tonight?

What I want to say..
A Game? Lady, this is
the City where all of life
is a game within a game.

games about names
about fames about

the passions
compassions
rations of feeling
or reeling with abandon

money, being funny growing
to the best or the worst
First in the dreams
screams unknown
thrown because in the end
even when we do not know
about it there is The Game
but...

Yes m'am, the Reds are playing tonight.

Over the years the City has blended
outward through the hills,
old homes next to new homes and
the Past comes and goes like
temporal tides of some body of water
unknown and unseen.
Across the hills bricks, rocks,
concrete cover what was
or might have been.

Gene Kelly may sing in the rain, but
here in the City where JustSpring
has come carried along the river
by rising temperatures and
sunlight that comes with light
and bright smiles

Here the City uncovers
a choreography with the
conversations, gestures
dancing bodies alive and
moving within the
movements and the words

Summer may drain but
for now the streets are
alive and dancing life
word by word by word.

The office workers and the tourists
do not see the Saint of Vine Street
coat upon coat, like secret powers
one sock up and one down,

She scuffles in a slow, slow dance
with the concrete, a prayer for
those who see the Saint of Vine Street
and smile at her in understanding.

a crumb for the pigeons a candy
for the invisible children so like her.
she who has nothing manages
to give so much on the streets

where the office workers and the tourists
do not see the Saint of Vine Street.

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Being Bardi

A journey without points

Recent Entries

thoughts

pense pence

also meandering

moving in

(no subject)

because Mad Lizzie asked

1 March

TS Eliot may have been wrong..many more bangs than whimpers going on

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