Archive for February, 2009

We Are Not Born Shy: A Revolutionary Poem and Thought Stream

February 9, 2009

The following stream of consciousness was formed driving down I-405 after a business training on meeting people. It is the precursor to the poem which follows:
Tuesday Night Epiphany
We are not born shy! We stand up and scream and yell at the world and say “Take Notice of ME! I am important. I am somebody. I am vital to the universe. And I am the center of the universe!”
And somewhere in between we get that beat out of us, and taught “You are not the center of the universe.”
And if you take that far, you become shy. And if you take that too far you become insecure and die inside.

Inherently as babies, we stand up and say “Notice me!”

If we go back, we can ask, “What have we learned?” I can go back and say, “I learned not to be the center of the universe.” But somewhere along the way, I learned too much. I need to go back, not to being the center of the universe, but that I am part of the universe. What I do matters. What I do, I do well. And I unlearn the part that says you suck. And I unlearn the part that says you don’t matter. And I unlearn the part that says what you do is of no consequence. And I unlearn the part that says you are bothersome to people.

Yeah what I did might have been bothersome to some people and it might have been bothersome to one. But I’m spending 80 percent of my time worrying about those who think I’m bothersome and obnoxious. I’m spending 20 percent on the people who don’t think I’m bothersome, who really like me, who don’t think I’m obnoxious.
And that’s backwards.

============================
To Julie, who planted it before that night;
To Richard and Craig, who taught it;
To Michelle, who scribed it right,
When I thought it;
And to Nancy, who signed
the last line.

We Are Not Born Shy!

Deep in a Metropolitan Café,
Music blaring,
Velvet lounge chairing,
I heard a voice that stripped away
Years of fears:

“We are not born shy. It is learned behavior.”

A moment to wrap
My brain, filled before with crap
About how I was shy, insignificant,
Around that thought, and recant
Past learned behavior.

And then the torrent
Of truth
Rolls back
The lies of my youth

And the thoughts flood
Through a waking dream
And washes the mud
Away in a stream!

“We are not born shy!”

We are born and stand up and scream and yell at the world and say:
“Take notice of me! Now! This instant! Today!
I am important! I am somebody! I am not a curse!”
We bellow out: “I am vital to the Universe!”
“Better!
Not worse!
I am the Center!”

But somewhere in between, we
Get that beat out of us, and see
The truth: we are not the center, not first,
Of this vast cosmic Universe.

And some take it too far. Why?
We become shy.
And if we take it even more
we become insecure
And die
inside.

Inherently, as babies,
We stand up and say: “Notice Me!”

Now we have lost
That voice, but at what cost?
If we can go back
(and we should!), we ask:

“What have I learned?
As I for attention yearned?
Did I grab too much?
Did I grow out of touch?
Am I rightly and righteously spurned?”

“No! I can go back and say:
I learned not to be
The Universe’s Center!
But to be a part, near the core, is better!”

“I am a part of that Universe!
I bring wisdom, laughter, romance, verse!
What I do, matters! What I do, I do well!
I’m more than clatter, as far as I can tell!”

So I unlearn the part
That will laden my heart,
That covers me with muck,
That yells in my soul: “You Suck!”

I unlearn the part,
the idle, fetid chatter,
that wasn’t there at the start!
That now says: “You don’t matter!”

I unlearn the part that makes me wince,
When I hear it: “You’re of no consequence!”
I tear down the claim that says I’m dumb,
And that my ways, to others, are bothersome.

I recognize, and finally see,
That shy, bothersome, is not who I’m meant to be,
Nor what I should ever focus on;
No! That vision of self I distain and flee from!

Perhaps in mankind, twenty percent
Might have that thought, that bent.
Two in ten
Might repeat, again

As those who were prior obeyed once did:
“You’re self-centered! Juvenile! Like a kid!”
And I, willing to believe in that,
Spent eighty percent time trying to combat

The vision which less than twenty percent shared!
And I ignored eighty percent: Those who cared!
Who thought I was creative, intelligent, clever, lucent!
To them, that eighty, I gave less than twenty percent.

I was not born that shy way,
So now I can see
That I should spend my days
Creatively, as I please,
With the eighty percent
Of the folks who like me!

For if you surrender to the critical, lashing, self-defeating shy …
You die.

Meet on the Beach: an intro Romantic Poem

February 9, 2009

I’ll bring you out of your creativity shell;
we’ll walk along the beach!
You’re a little impish, I can tell!
Something’s sure to be in reach.

And then we’ll walk
and talk,
and talk
and walk

and when we’re done
we’ll decide on the spot
if we had fun
or not.

Do you get Contexting Poems Back? An IMprov poem

February 8, 2009

“Do you get
Poems Context-
ing
back? A viral thing?”

The answer came true:
Just from you.
Everyone else
tries a line or two
and then quits,
and says “it’s something I can’t do!
Boo hoo hoo!”
It’s totally true!)

Oysters, Moonlight, Art Galleries and Berets: a Romantic Sonnet Lament

February 8, 2009

Oysters, moonlight, art galleries, and berets;
what does a guy have to do
to woo
an attractive woman these days?

The casual text
seems to miss.
Could come bliss
if I email next?

In this age
of electronic communication
there remains the frustration
with the written word and page!

Did she even receive my words?
Or is voice still the best way to be heard?

Tapes In My Head: A Revolutionary Rant-Poem

February 8, 2009

I learned today
that what I say
people have said
is really all in my head!

Tapes in a loop!
That’s the straight scoop!
Tapes I just play
day after day
(probably because
I like feeling this way!)

Insecure, silly, stupid, depressed.
Yup, I like it!
and so I guess
no one ever says what I think they say;
So I’ll just let my loopy tapes play.

Wango-Tango Renewed: a Contexting Poem

February 8, 2009

Oh! That I could have danced with U!/
Wango-Tangoed the whole nite through!/
Instead I’ll do what I said I’d do!/
You’ll have the day’s 1st email when Im through!

VD Sucks: a Romantic Poem Rant plus a followup ConTEXTing poem

February 7, 2009

You remember the anticipation
of the annual celebration!

Was it a while ago today
Ya think?!?
that deception
happened;
drove you to the brink.

You hate
V.D.
You wait
2C
what good will come
out of anticipa …


tion.

But nothing ever does.
She or he goes north,
of course,
without you,
because

“Gotta get away”
(that’s what they say!)
To do
to …
you know.
What lovers do.

Bored. Walk.
Stare.
Talk.
Fog night air.
Gawk
at / in VS underwear.

Do that thang
they should do.
She’ll blissfully sing
without you.

With husband,
wife, lover,
ex-boy/girl friend.
Off northside, south end,
east or west coast
they go,
leaving you empty hand-
ed … almost.

Yeah, V.D. sucks.
Like a disease;
you know they will …
play and toil.
Just not with thee.

————————
Followup, Feb. 17, 2009, 9 p.m. – a ConTEXTing Poem
Valentine weekend-ed/
just as I suspected./
She didn’t e-mail, text or write./
No call to say goodnight./
Do I feel rejected?/
Or just replaced?/
In any case/
I wait!

(additional addendum):
Later on
came the call:
“I’m glad we can still be friends!”
That’s all.

Wii and Me and Thee: Romantic Contexting Limerick

February 7, 2009

Crowds of boys playing Wii!/
Everyone yelling at me!/
Now is when/
I wish again/
I could be playing with thee!

Funny Valley Where It’s Sunny: a Romantic Poem

February 6, 2009

Funny,

How in the Valley of the Sun,

where my son

lives, works, plays;

where my mother and sisters

spend their days

with the cacti,

and dust, growing dry;

While on the other hand I,

alive,

live farther Northwest by choice,

in Puget Sound, where it’s moist;

but yet barely survive,

for I, too, am dry.

I cry

because of the dusty,

empty, barren part

of my heart.

It beats and lives here,

searching, waiting, wanting.

While in that hot Valley,

a new, unknown she

lives who writes

of dreamy delights

of what I only imagine

could/would/should be.

Should I turn my mind

and gaze

southward,

through the empty haze,

and wonder?

If I traveled there,

and met what I dared

hope for,

would my parched heart moisten,

grow, then burst asunder

with fulfilled glee

from me + she

in that parched, sunny,

yet fertile Valley?

Funny.

What R U Doing? – Romantic Contexting Poetry

February 6, 2009

Writing pleasures but no dough!/
Consulting would be nice but no go!/
Blonde writer would b sweet but oh oh!/
We were 2 go out but she no-showed!/
I didn’t know!