Thursday, February 24, 2011

Come Over Here Baby

My monthly challenge for February was to write a poem everyday.

Most of them were terrible.  But a few were quite successful, at least in conveying what I felt at the time.  I'm certainly not a poet, but I enjoy writing them nonetheless.  It is a very good thing that I chose free verse; I can't stick to a rhythm/rhyming pattern for the life of me!  Here are my favourites.  Incidentally, they are also the shortest ones.

Feb. 3, "Divergence"

I cannot help but to change
When I see all new sites
And hear all new sounds
Or climb to new heights
Or step below ground

 Feb. 8, no title

Venice is sinking, she sighed,
As lovers flee to Paris.
Soon, all of this will be nothing.
And she hoped to be far away.

Feb. 15, no title

To be intelligent
Is to live and die
As Prometheus

To be intelligent
Is to exist as a wolf
Among the sheep

Feb. 18, Piano Keys

That look
It was mine
For so many days,
Hours, years.
But I am blind,
So how could I know?

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Sometimes You Just Have to Walk Away

I have 100 days left in this adventure of mine.

I have extremely mixed emotions on the subject.
Ah! Seigneur!  Donnez-moi la force et le courage de contempler mon coeur.
-- Charles Baudelaire
- Ah! Seigneur! donnez-moi la force et le courage - De contempler mon coeur et mon corps sans dégoût! - Ah! Seigneur! donnez-moi la force et le courage - De contempler mon coeur et mon corps sans dégoût!
Ah! Seigneur! donnez-moi la force et le courage - De contempler mon coeur et mon corps sans dégoût!
Firstly, I want to return.  I miss my friends and my family.  I miss having a kitchen and a bathroom of my own, and I miss the big, beautifully vast space that is Canada.

Secondly, I don't want to return.  I have made some amazing friends here and I can neither imagine leaving them -- some of them forever -- nor imagine living far away from them all.

Thirdly, I want to return.  I want to return to the way things used to be between my friends and I.  I want to be there for the joys and the sorrows.  I want to be able to chat mindlessly on summer evenings, have someone to cry with in the spring, be able to fight for what I believe is right in the winter, and return to my coffee dates for autumn.

Fourthly, I don't want to return.  Larissa and I were discussing it this weekend; on one hand, going home is like going back in time.  Your friends are all together, listening to the same music, dealing with the same problems, wearing the same clothes.  But on the other hand, it's like flying back in time and ending up in the wrong place.  Because while things are all the same for your friends, for the last year they have all walked together along a path on which you haven't been present. And they have all grown together and you have diverged.
There is nothing like returning to place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered.
-- Nelson Mandela
And lastly, I no longer know what is 'home'.  Am I returning home, or leaving another home?

Sunday, February 13, 2011

How Cavalier We Used to Be

It was over 15 degrees in Paris this week.  Before that, I was in Italy with some sunshine and warmth.  I've been out dancing late into the nights and sleeping in on the weekends.  It all makes me excited for the summer.

I'm spending this summer the way I really want to.  Sunshine and working hard all day, spending my evenings doing whatever I want.

Also, I had my graduation ceremony from the Sorbonne.  It was awesome, and I got to keep my hat and gown.  So far, the hat has been involved in dancing and eating at Subway.  I think I've earned the right to wear it wherever and whenever I want, including public places.

Note to friends:  you may not want to be caught in public with me for the next few weeks until the novelty wears off!