SITTING BESIDE THE LAKE

Thursday, April 22, 2010

SITTING BESIDE THE LAKE

By Philip Cairns

Copyright 2010 by Philip Cairns

The oak tree speaks to me with incandescent whispers.
Jewels of delight pour from the depths of her marrow.
Sapphires of wisdom shoot from her roots straight into my thumping heart.
I’m disappointed, as usual,
For we don’t always speak the same language.

The blue-grey water saunters by,
Minding her own business.
A nasty, aggressive goose keeps attacking its fellow citizens,
Angry for some unfathomable reason.
Its squawking disturbs the tranquility of the lake.

Seagulls scream when they discover food.
A pure white swan dives for fish or just watches the world go by.
Pretty under-dressed women rollerblade along the pavement,
Chattering and gossiping in a loud, annoying manner.
Dark, spooky rainclouds hover ominously in the distance.

Despite the drizzle,
The sun peaks out,
Every once in a while,
Just for the hell of it.
Far away are tall, swaying buildings.

The Goddess manifests herself in blinding sun rays and light blue mist,
Way out by the horizon line.
I sit pondering the Afterlife and good friends I have known.
My dwindling bank balance hovers over my tense shoulders,
Preying on my jangling monkey mind.

A siren screams in terror as a fit young man rows by,
Followed by a bossy guy in a motor boat.
A red-winged bird shouts and prances as it digs for food,
Calling out to its cohorts.

All is calm and peaceful,
Despite the highway and the city cacophony in the background.
My mind suddenly becomes as still as a meditating yogi,
Down by the shimmering lake that I love.

We’ve gone through so much together,
Over the years.
You are my dear companion.
Water is my favourite element.

Speak to me, again,
Beautiful oak tree.
This time, I promise to decipher your profound, secret code.

Just Think If You Found The One...

Tonight, I had dinner with two of my favourite university friends.  We have a tradition that started about 3 years ago, where we get together at the start and the end of each semester.  It's a time to catch up on the previous 2-3 months, vent about school, laugh about life, and enjoy one another's company.

We started talking about relationships and Itsy Bitsy (nickname for one) blurted out that she had only ever been with her current partner.  They met in high school and almost 2 decades later, they were still together.  Me being me, I just couldn't fathom the possibility of sleeping with only one person for your whole life.

"How do you know it's good sex?  Do you think of others?  Have you had a threesome?  Does he look at porn?  Would it bother you?  Do you have really crazy sex to keep things exciting over all these years?  If so, does involve midgets, s&m, a sling...there must be at least a sling." - These were my rapid fire questions that just came flying out and in a very much teasing way.

Uppity (nickname for the other) could certainly understand my questioning.  Uppity had spent many years with a husband that didn't fulfill her at all.  After numerous years, she finally recently ended it and is now in a great relationship.  She found it in a place that she never knew that she would...with another woman.  She believes now that all those years of suffering led her to this great relationship.

Driving home from dinner, I had a moment of 'Whoa.'  Just think if I found the one back in high school and hadn't spent this last decade moving from relationship to relationship, dating here, whore-ing this month, etc.  Even once I'm in a relationship, I wonder if they are the one or if I should start again.  I date for longer than I should in the hopes that they'd turn out better.  I hate myself for being casual for awhile and not really enjoying any of it.

All of a sudden, I started to think that Itsy Bitsy had it easy and I was envious of what she had.  She's genuinely happy.  She's found her soul mate and her eyes light up talking about him.  She has 2 beautiful kids.  She's got her house.  She's able to focus on fitness, work, and school without the distraction of 'Is this what I really want in a partner?'

What'd you think?  Would your life be easier if you found 'the one' many years ago? Do you enjoy the constant search for 'the one'?  Have you given up on finding 'the one'?

RANDOM THOUGHTS/JEWELS OF DELIGHT

Sunday, April 18, 2010

RANDOM THOUGHTS/JEWELS OF DELIGHT

By Philip Cairns

Copyright 2010 by Philip Cairns

Emeralds are shooting out of my crown chakra.
Tiny rubies fall gently from my tearing eye sockets.
I’m spitting deep blue star sapphires from my mouth.
There is no pain,
Just jubilation and sparkling colours.

The bitter old man was tarred and feathered with vicious lies.
Vile allegations of dark troubles and misplaced fears.
The twang of deep-rooted illness hovered over his head.
It was all profoundly untrue.

The paintbrush shook in the artist’s slender hand.
Indecision and self-loathing prevented him
From diving into the sea of discovery,
The bejewelled well of creativity.
The critical dialogue in his head played, repeatedly.

Listen to the wonderful words of dance legend Martha Graham.
Don’t question or criticize.
Just do it.
Let it flow.
Use your Goddess-given talents without fear or crippling uncertainty.

Create the new dance.
Sing higher than you can.
Dive off the mountain without a net.
You will surely land in a safe place.

Let the spirit of Rembrandt or Rimbaud inhabit you.
Throw out the soiled detritus.
Sometimes the world won’t understand or even care.
March forward to the sound of the soothing music in your head.

You might fall into that bleak rabbit hole, one careless day,
The bottomless pit of despair,
Hitting the hard sides of the abyss, as you tumble down, down.
Listen to the faint, cheerful words calling out to help you.

He put on a wig of sunflower yellow.
A sleeveless black dress with silver overlay.
High-heeled shoes covered in rhinestones and sequins.
Glossy lips of ruby red.

The fit young man danced like a dervish on the float in the parade.
He flirted with musclemen and twinks.
He gossiped and giggled, had the time of his life.
He’s dancing in the Gay Pride parade.

Baby-faced gym rats, transgendered delights.
Bull dykes and fem boys and bears.
Drag queens and leather men and PFLAG moms.
They’re all marching in the Gay Pride Parade.

A diamond popped out of my ear canal.
I attached it to my lobe with a piece of golden wire.
Freshwater pearls swirled fashionably around the width of my over-fed neck.
Pink pearls hung round my slender wrist.

The middle-aged man got in a pale blue car and drove to the Pacific Ocean.
He lay on the beach and lapped up the soothing breeze.
The tiny white bikini he wore attracted no crowd.
Solitude engulfed him like a warm cocoon.
He captured the glorious seascape on his artist’s canvas,
With layers and swirls of acrylic paint.
Blue, pink, yellow, mauve and lime green.

The ephemeral fish tank was full of delights.
Shells of every colour and design.
Semi-precious stones were shimmering placidly in the hot sand.
A sense of peace and calm soothed his tense nerves.
A tiny quartz crystal sat right in the middle of his Third Eye chakra.

Just breathe in the vibrations of the stars.
It takes no effort whatsoever.
Think of the timeless questions of the infinite Universe.
Living your life is the hard part.

I feel cute again.

DISCLAIMER:  

For a blog called, Let's Be Vain, this is by far the most personally vain-est post that I've done.

I feel cute again.  Surely not as cute as this kitten above, but still damn cute.  I can't recall the last time that I've looked in the mirror and actually took a second to be like, 'Hrem...not so bad, Mr. Stewart.'  Usually, it's a quick glance to moisturize away the dry skin on my face and then an even quicker glance at the hair that is often a disaster.  I couldn't tell you what I wore yesterday, or the day before, or even today to work.  My appearance and I parted ways a few months ago.

With the stress of work, school and art projects - something had to go.  My satisfaction with my looks was it.  I pair that with my lack of working out over a few months period, way too much stress from future life decisions, and illnesses coupled with irregular sleeping.

After a full 7.5 hours sleep last night (that's big in my world these days), a pretty good work day, and a work out - I feel cute again.  Why?  Vanity wise, I have a tan again - I think I look better w/ a tan.  I've been on my yoga challenge for almost 20 days (this equals a toned bod and peace of mind).  Emotionally wise, I've spent a lot of my week trying to do some good for others and that puts me in a great place too.

How about you?  Has the early summer brought you out of a funk?  Do you feel cute often or what influences it?

MY SECOND HEAD

Saturday, April 10, 2010

MY SECOND HEAD

By Philip Cairns

Copyright 2010 by Philip Cairns

Television ruined my life.
I grew a second head because of the radio-active waves.
It started as a pimple and just got bigger and bigger.
One day, I was awakened by loud cackling.
I thought it was a bad dream,
But it was this nasty second head, screaming lewd obscenities.
I went to the doctor but the head bit his fingers,
So amputation is out of the question.

My sex life is ruined.
This “thing” has Tourette’s Syndrome.
On a first date, the new man is truly horrified.
They always have an excuse for a quick exit.
No one ever says, “I can’t date you.
You have two heads.”
I think it’s best to be honest and straightforward,
Don’t you?

The worst part is that this appendage has foul breath
And refuses to do anything about it.
It’s a total turn-off.
I wake up in the morning in the jaws of hell,
Let me tell you.
This thing turns towards me and kisses me,
Smack on the lips.
It’s thoroughly disgusting.
I hate it so much.
It also belittles me and says cruel things to me.

One day, I’ll get a chain saw and cut it off,
When it’s sleeping.
Having a twin would be oh so nice
But this creature is deranged.
When I walk down the street,
It says rude things to people passing by.
It screams out nasty, sexist things to pretty women
And makes verbal passes at all the hunky young men.
Thank God I can run fast or my face would be a bloody pulp.

I think it may be bi-polar, actually.
Sometimes, the head weeps all day,
Spouting out negativity and cynicism,
Calling the world a vile, mean, horrid place.
It’s hard for me to concentrate when I read
With all that horrid babbling.

If I paint a pretty picture, it says things like,
“What a piece of crap! You have no talent.
Don’t give up your day job.”
That always puts me in a funk.

This wicked thing has bulimia, on top of everything else.
Just picture it!
It’s beyond monstrous.
Perhaps I should see a lawyer and find out what my legal options are.
Life can throw you some cruel curves.
Can someone help me?
Please!!
I just don’t know what to do.

Okay.

Kaila W. Montanna is pissed.

[SPOILER ALERT for fans of "BONES" and "UGLY BETTY"






And I am pissed because Booth and Bones did NOT get together (and for those of you not in the know, Booth and Bones is not the name of a naughty gay couple who might be into some light kink). Instead they are the main couple on FOX's "Bones," an hour-long crime drama based on forensic anthropologist Kathy Reichs. In the 100th episode, we figured, eventually, that the two would get together. After five years of teasing, of this growing romance that dared not speak its name--I mean, the fall out of the lack of kissing and love hurt more than when Jack Twist died and Ennis sniffed the old shirt.

I am left with an empty gut that needs to be filled with ice cream, ruffles chips dipped in mayo and possible a box of mac'n'cheese.

Another disappointment (in a good way) is Ugly Betty. Unfortunately, Betty is going bye bye. Bye Bye Betty because sadly, you have had some severely low ratings. I mean, the move to Friday night wasn't the smartest idea on ABC's part, but after moving you back to Wednesday night's you've lost half of your audience. Ergo, Betty is over. With one more episode left, the series will bow out on April 14th, the day after Glee.

I love a lot about this show. It's the one show on the air that sort of--no, cross that--not sort of makes me, but fully makes me feel good about myself. Time and time again they surprise me with laughs, love and happy-fuzzy feelings.

Most recently I am in love with the coming out storyline for the youngest of the Suarez clan, Justin. The writers have placed a large amount of care in the direction of this character, and I will be so sad to see him gone. Forever. They offer up a different reality, a different option on how coming out could be for gay teens...on how it should be.

No more happy dramas. Bye bye Betty.

As for Bones...this just means no sex scenes with David Boreanaz in the near future.

Sigh.

Glee in a week. True Blood in June. It can't be that bad.

LOIS NETTLETON

Saturday, April 3, 2010

LOIS NETTLETON

By Philip Cairns

Copyright 2010 by Philip Cairns

My life was hand painted on Dresden china.
Pale blue, magenta and violet hues
Swirling boldly,
In dips and swoops.

I was watching “Lois Nettleton TV” on YouTube.
One of my favourite actresses.
Bleach blonde hair,
Perky laugh.

Paint splattered onto the bumpy rag paper.
My hand was frenzied, unfrozen,
Moving in simple, swirling directions.
Always the nagging doubts and dreams surrounding the creative urge.

Lois died from lung cancer.
We never met.
I still have the autographed picture she sent me
When I was a discontented teenager.

The eroticism of the 60s film, “Woman in the Dunes”
Washed over my psyche.
The lead actress bathes a handsome man
She has trapped in her house in a sandpit.

I once had the blind date from hell.
Nothing went right.
He walked out of that art house movie because he said he didn’t like people being mean to each other.
It was an allegory which he didn’t understand.

Lois hit her career stride in the late sixties and early 70s.
She never seemed to age.
That bubbly, gurgling laugh and slightly crossed eyes.
I wish I knew more about her private life.

What did she do when she wasn’t working?
She dated Frank Sinatra, briefly
And cared for her ailing mother.
Did she have an active sex life?

The events of the day sometimes spill over into your dreams.
Reoccurring frightful nightmares that continue for decades.
Driving down the darkened road, at night,
With no license and no exit ramps.

Lois went to 2 “Twilight Zone” conventions before she died.
I wish we could have met.
Who inherited her 2 Emmy Awards
Or did they have to be returned to the Academy?

Wish I could unload all my possessions, one day,
Giving me a heightened sense of freedom.
Clippings from the past, stones, jewellery, books.
And debts that sit smugly on my firm shoulders.

Jackie, Lois, Cloris, Anne, Carrie, Lee.
Actresses that meant so much to me,
Over the years.
They have no idea.

It’s like listening to a favourite album.
Being touched, deeply, feeling a strong connection,
But the creator of the work is not there.
They have no idea that you ever felt that way.

Someone reads your work and weeps.
They read it again and again.
It changes their life, a tiny bit,
But you never know because you haven’t met.

I sold a painting, once.
Don’t know who bought it.
Is it valued by the owner?
Does he joyfully gaze upon it, every day?

Lois Nettleton has given me such joy.
She’ll never know.
Endless hours of admiration and respect.
Like most actors, she fades into obscurity.

The Call

So yesterday morning was like any other work day.  I woke up, had a shower and went to work.  Like any other typical morning I grabbed my steaped tea and then sat down at my desk.  Twenty minutes in I get a call, I missed it because I was on the phone with an assistant.  The person left a message and I checked it.  Here is what they say "Hi this is _______ _______ from the Toronto Health Board, I am looking for _____ ______.  ______ you might aware or unaware that you have a potential minor health risk."  I nearly dropped the phone.  Yes I know the person said minor, I listened to it four times but that still didn't help.  What was weird was I had gone to the doctor's the week before to go get tested and I thought maybe these were the results.  As it turns out, it was someone else who had gotten tested.  I call back and I get the dudes answering machine.  He states that if he has called you to press 0 to talk to the intake person.  I press 0 and it just keeps ringing.  I waited three minutes of ringing before I hung up and call again.  Again I get his voicemail and this time I realize you can leave a message, so I did.  I go back up to work and am shaking.  "Wtf could I have".  

Another twenty minutes go by and I he calls me back.  This time I am stuck at my desk and he tells me what he called me about.  "One of the people you have been with in the past three months has tested positive for Goneria".  Big sy of relief.  I have had it once before and although it is extremely painful and not fun, I know it is easily curable and I will be fine.  He then tells me the person is to remain anonymous as thats how it works in these cases, but that I should go get tested.  I proceed to tell him that I got tested the week before.  He says go to the doctor today and say I have been exposed and they will give me the treatment anyways and all will be well.  He asks me I have any questions which I do but I am at work and not much that I can say.  I hang up the phone and then the thoughts start pouring in.  Who in the past three months could have given me the big G.  So I total the number and it equals 7.  I still talk to all but three, so my automatic reaction is to blame one of those three boys.  Then after talking to a friend, they pointed out that it could have been the other 4, they are just too scared to tell me.  I doubt I will ever know but it poses the question.  Would you tell someone directly if you caught an STD or would you choose to stay anonymous and have someone else do it for you?  

Oh and I went to the doctor and my results all came back negative, thankfully, I got tested again just to be safe, and got the medication.  What a week...lol.  Of course maybe I shouldn't be as promiscuous anymore.  ; )