Elsewhere in Dreams

I am fresh of the graveless waterfront
as a groundkeeper for this beach,
at least till I am swallowed by the moon.

I am freshly alive with life not my own,
with maggots that spill from eyesockets
and insects burrowing, jaw to bone.

But I am a fresh convert to the process:
yesterday I was born a ghost,
and today I till and furrow for the flies.

I am fresh, also, of a thousand places
all equally regal, all flushed with life,
all carefully tended;

these freshly cultivated twin sisters and brothers -
I have become a thousand teeming islands,
a million writhing worlds,

a universe freshly strewn with self-consuming stars.
Here, you will grow your corn.
You will press its flesh between your teeth,
and it will not taste like disaster.

The spinning cyclone spoiled the sky
when Macy was somewhere
between five and six;
it tore open the horizon
like clumsy fingers
to tissue paper,

and in that heartbeat
she fell on the cusp
of twenty-seven,

her hands pressed against the wall,
the smooth stone of the wall;
there, where the edges
crumbled her prayers
are pushed in
the way a wedge
spoils wood;

it is the way of Kansas
to disappear and leave the wall;
it is the way of all things
to rot and leave a wall;
it is the way of tears and ashes
and stone and paper
laid even at the wall.

You have become expert
at the holes in my floor
and how to fix
them;

I wish, sometimes,
that you’d do more than
lend me a hammer.

Well, I finally broke down and saw the movie Serenity. As well I should have, as it turns out, because it’s an amazing film. And unbelieveable film. Maybe the best scifi film I’ve ever seen, bar none. Certainly the best scifi-western. I would urge you all to go out sometime and see a matinee showing of it in a nice uncrowded theatre, just so good films that deserve to be winners actually are.

You know what’s interesting? Hollywood funding distribution is funny, that’s what. How so many banal films are made with money ranging into the hundreds of millions of dollars is beyond me - and why people go to see them is even further. In fact, so much of the movie-going populace is turned off by what HWood is producing these days that they don’t even bother to watch those top-ten grossing films anymore, if they even watch movies at all. I, for one, haven’t watched a single “blockbuster” movie this year unless I was with friends and had to seek the lowest common denominator in what movie would appeal to everyone.

Which is part of the industry’s problem. They cater to big audiences and leave the small ones behind. But is it so strange to imagine that you’d make the same sort of money with four small films that cost $25m in lieu of one film that costs $100m+? Not only that, instead of having hugely expensive films that go bust, you’d have minorly expensive films that go bust, and sleeper hits that basically cost only a tenth of what they’ll gross in theatres alone. Even out the money distribution. It doesn’t work anymore. We don’t like your stupid movies that focus on making us covet lifestyles while ignoring plot. We’re not drooling idiots with money flowing out of our pockets, waiting to spend it on whatever film has “adrenaline” or “octane” in the description.

Well, most of us aren’t.

dan (hates movies. loves movies)

Whenever I see a vapor trail
I’m reminded how these things can fail.
Ten thousand miles broke my spine,
but now out of orbit I am fine.

Whenever I touch this old brick wall
I remember how these things can stall.
Your stone and mortar sealed my fate
but now that I’m breathing it’s too late.

You go away. I’ll be waiting here with a smile on my face.
You go away. I’ll always be here, but in a different place.

And I’ll put your letters in the drawer
like a ticking heart beneath the floor.
Ten thousand beats and you’ll be back.
Eye of a needle, and all that.

And I’ll leave off waiting by the phone.
It only remind me, I’m alone.
Your loaded silence pierced my side.
I’ll wait for the water to subside.

You go away. I’ll be waiting here, mask firmly in place.
You go away. I’ll always be here, with someone else’s face.

This Sisyphitic bliss is hard to keep inside a fist
so tightly closed around what we remain.
The novelty is that your flight was held at bay until tonight
and every vapour trail is damned and leading you away.

How do we grow like
wheat at the corner of a wall,
where the earth’s furrow meets the wall,
and the wall towers in worn mortared stone?

Always in the darkness
the hesitation. Always. And then
the glorious warmth of forgotten daylight,
but how did we grow at the corner of the wall?

You were beautiful
there, beside a chain-link wall.
When did the evening fade around your
shoulders to become this night’s precipitation?

How did we grow like
wheat at the corner of a wall,
where the earth’s furrow is itself a wall
and we are shadowed and as such remain?

I’ve got a thousand miles to go,
and so I thought I’d let you know
that I’m not really there,
finally getting somewhere.

But you have carried me this far,
with every breath a fresh-laid scar.
As if to say it’s fine,
dearest son of mine.

Nothing to see here. Move along.

I wrote this quickly tonight… and I need to write more but here it is for now.

This untenable position isn’t fit for either
being something elemental or for breathing ether
but in the darkness of our being is a form to gather
like a shadow, like a wraith, something I would rather
not forget. We’re not there yet.

And darling, when will you leave your beautiful disaster.
I promise, I promise nothing, no happy ever after.

dan (writes songs)

Just a short note: I dislike people who cause un-necessary trouble in the church. By un-necessary trouble I mean the sort that can be avoided by not being a blathering idiot and having your own agenda.

I mean, what’s with people walking into church acting like the place exists so they can change it into their likeness and get angry and leave then the elders don’t do what they want? You come to church to be changed, not to change people. You’re not in charge. It’s not a democracy. You need to shut up more and be teachable.

Let me make a suggestion: when entering the church, find something that bugs you. Go ahead and do it. Then ask yourself, “Why does this thing bother me?” Then figure out if the scriptures are with you; if they are, it’s an issue. If it’s not, you can shut up, or you can leave. Some may disagree with me, but the economy of churches in Canada is such that you have a lot of choice and nothing is making you stay in your current church. If leaving will simmer you down, both of you will be better for it.

And for God’s sake, don’t go dragging entire commities of churches into your little petty squables. If you must, set fire to your own backyard; leave mine alone.

dan (angry)