Archive for writing

The Uncaged Birds

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , on January 1, 2010 by Arthur

It’s early morning after a long Blue Moon night. Moonbeams mix with sun rays in the room where a boy sits alone. The young man decides to not go to bed just yet even though his hosts are in bed holding each other as the boy holds onto his evening’s memories. It was a few hours ago that the wooden floorboards were squeaking with delight as heavy, friendly footsteps filled the yellow-green walls of the one bedroom apartment. It was a few hours ago when the boy was encapsulated by soothing snickers and a gin-scented airspace. It was also a few hours ago when he remembered why he decided to leave the old man behind and greet the newborn baby with these people over anyone else.

He sits quietly and looks around the carcass of the once lively room and is content. He holds his friends very close and is appreciative of what has commenced in the past night. They knew he was feeling sullen since his boyfriend made his heart weep earlier that day. And even though the room consisted of pairs, they all kissed him simultaneously once the countdown reached zero. His smile was as bright as the over-sized Christmas lights that still hung in the living room window. In that exact moment, nothing else mattered: his hurtful paramour, the rude message by his neighbor from last year, or how little money he had in his wallet. The night was perfect, whether spent in the heavenly room or alone in the cold with his cigarette.

As the sun bleeds through the curtains of colorful birds in abstract cages, the glorious echos are slowly dissipating with each grain of time. He starts to concentrate on the tangible noises of the shaking ceiling fan and the uncaged birds singing out to the sun. A familiar song plays with the current sound orchestra. It’s a tune that was popular in 2005 and is reserved for his fond memories of him and his deceased friend. He isn’t sad and instead of a river, a smirk forms. The boy is happy in knowing that he had made him proud tonight. Flashes of his past are now running a marathon in his mind and the smile decorated on the young man’s face doesn’t fade.

The song ends and the fan is still vigorously waving its noisy hands. A new sound appears and the boy realizes it’s his makeshift bed for the next few hours; the lumpy, quilt-covered couch is screaming his name.


Untitled 05

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , on July 15, 2009 by Arthur

March 2007
Early Morning

I swallowed my feelings
I swallowed my heart
The conversations we had
Kind of began but never did start
I was worried what you’d say
Or what you would think
And now I miss you everyday
Wasting my pen and the ink
I finally have something to proclaim
But you’re gone and nothing’s the same
And who I am won’t float, just






Untitled 04

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , on July 13, 2009 by Arthur

March 2007
Early Morning

Come back
We can’t do this without your presence
Parts of the world are flooded
We drown in your image
The unfinished life that was
That wasn’t
That’ll never be
Come back

Untitled 03

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , on July 7, 2009 by Arthur

March 2007
Early Morning

I’ll be loyal
I’ll never leave your side
I won’t be depressing
Sad, frustrating, hurtful
I want you to hold me
Never let go
I’ll never let go
I want your warm to melt my wall
Show me what happiness can be
Show me what love is

Untitled 02

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , on July 3, 2009 by Arthur

March 2007

She dripped every last ounce that occupied her mind
All the answers through me, she wanted to find
A broken record who’s vinyl was torn
My bloody, beaten ears became so worn
She wanted a savior, I was her accidental knight
Her words and heart heavy I couldn’t win the fight
My time and love were hers and she was happy to have received
However, what she returned, I was duped and truly deceived
She was going through hell yet the hurt was all mine
My spirit was crushing, what a costly fine
Help is what she requested and I supplied my best
Though she made the same faults which I started to detest
She buried me alive in her coffin of sadness
Where maggots fed off me and left behind madness
She sat on her pedestal, hands free of the muck
Stating I could never relate, leaving me dumbstruck

Untitled 01

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , on July 2, 2009 by Arthur

March 2007

Allow me the honor to soak up your mess
Time and again, I’ll absorb what you confess
Release your fears, the blood that was shed
Verbalize the frustration, the stress in your head
Your one-sided stories and the tears that were spilled
Doesn’t matter the liquid, I cannot be filled
Though caution to the hopeless about my sympathy
Constant repetition will lead to vexed apathy
Mighty but fragile, I am a fruitful instrument
Take away the bad and replace with contentment
Your motivation low, everyday hurts, the road is tough
I will make it clean and new by becoming your seraph

Information Gratification

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , on June 28, 2009 by Arthur

Among all the astonishingly moronic things that disturb me in my office, there is one thing that drives me mad. A white slip of paper that hangs from my supervisor’s work area screams my name every other day. My supervisor is one of those types of people who need positive quotes from celebrities and CEOs surrounding her at all times. I actually think it’s counterproductive to print and cut out slivers of ridged office paper with words of people you can never actually become. But enough about that, here’s the supposed quote from Mahatma Gandhi:

“A customer is the most important visitor on our premises. he is not dependent on us. We are dependent on him. He is not an interruption in our work. He is the purpose of it. He is not an outsider in our business. He is part of it. We are not doing him a favor by serving him. He is doing us a favor by giving us an opportunity to do so.”

I did some cursory research and the best source that I can find is that this quote was said during a 1890 speech given in South Africa. The more I read it and try to understand why a man who is known for pacifist views and anti-war sentiments would discuss guest service just flummoxes me. I’m thinking this might be a case of the lazy media carrying over either a) a half-truth quote that was never said but regurgitated enough times to make it false public knowledge à la Gore and his often misquoted claim that he invented the internet. Or b) a complete and apocryphal quote picked up through slothful research.  Recently this happened when Shane Fitzgerald, a student from Dublin, made up a quote for French composer, Maurice Jarre when he passed away. Evidently, the false quotation ended up printing in a slew of American and European articles for a month before Fitzgerald told the media it was a farce.

One day I’ll know the truth behind the cryptic Gandhi quote but until I finish my research, the lesson of the story is never believe what you read or hear. Take the time to do some sort of research and never accept anyone’s word beyond face value. I know in this time of instant information gratification, it’s hard to take a second opinion but find a few legitimate sources and dig deep. Never swallow other people’s opinions and always question authority.