the world about us

The world about us would be desolate except for the world within us.

 ‑ Wallace Stevens

Nighthawks (1942) – Edward Hopper

Selling uncomfortable silence

Apart from the dull hiss of pop music oozing through the speakers at work, and the regimental stare from my half-used coffee cup…nothing else is happening. I feel that when you leave something long enough in one place, it begins to stare. It’s almost as if you forgot it was there, and now it’s silence is baring down on your neck. Most people ignore the character that forms around your office implements. Most people ignore most things.

 

It’s sobering to see how most people amble along without looking carefully at the things they are saying. At the moment I’m a salesman. Plenty of times I see people remarking “I bet they sell like hot cakes.” Now, this is where I stop and pause. Have you ever gone to the bakery and asked for a hot cake? In fact have you met someone who has come out of the bakery raving about there hot cake they just bought. I’ve seen people queue outside a store for the latest Harry Potter book…never for a hot cake. They must be somewhere since everyone is talking about them.

 

Very rarely do we stop to examine the  words we’re using. Why is that? Perhaps it’s exhausting. I suppose the real reason is it will in turn make us start to question who we are. The minute you start to question yourself and your own motives, things become a little scary. Are we a product of what we talk about? Words are vehicles that help us make friends, get through school, get through our first job interview, loose friends, lie to our colleagues and betray others.

 

I’m a salesman, and talking is part of my day. When someone inquires about a product I naturally question their needs, then once I get a feel for them I continue onto my general sales pitch. I have to be careful, sometimes I’ll side with one product over the other if I feel it’s going to win over the customer. Words are the tool I use to earn money, the more persuasive the more I sell…the more money I make.

 

Tonight I did feel a sting of regret though I must be honest. Every odd night I see the last minute customer who rush breathless to our doors once we have closed them. There was a middle-aged man who rushed to our doors tonight. He was dressed in a mediocre way. A signal I always look out for which tells me (most of the time) how much money the customer is willing to spend.

 

He explained to me (through tremendous gulps of air) that he was leaving the country tomorrow morning and desperately needed our one adapter we sold. Like many other people before him I turned him down, explaining that the shopping centre would fine us, if we continued to trade after hours. I saw the pain and desperation in his face, the look like life was about to fade away into a plughole. I felt like a snob. Selfish. I was a young working class kid, who wanted to get home after the long day and didn’t care a thing about him.

 

That is most likely a better way of looking in on yourself. Like many other uncomfortable feelings, I tucked it under the carpet that stores other dirty memories.

 

PhilosopherPoet

the workers prayer

Hey Bloggers

I must be honest it’s been ages since I’ve posted anything. The reason for this is that I’ve been in between moving house twice, and well as being employed in a full time capacity in my job. Anyway, I’ve decided to include a few poems I’ve managed to scribble down lately

the workers’ prayer

caffeine is my Shepherd i shall want
in the days when melancholy
covers me in its thick skin
and conjures up a conscience

i shall fear no evil
when i have sugar flowing
through my veins
my mouth will ramble on
like a child’s fingers
that fumble with the
wrapping of an exuberant toy
(writhing in the box)

the coffee beans and silver spoon
shall surely comfort me
all the days of my life

at four a.m. all you hear is
the cry of my kettle
the giddy ideas
punching
thumping
bruising
consuming
the holes in the keyboard

this mantra is the fuel
and stickiness that binds me
to the kiss of my Muse
she scampers out of the bed
(ahead of me)
washing the dishes
wresting the kettle
picking out the knots
(in yesterday’s events)

its time i smile and guffaw
maybe even frolic
in the gumption of Real Life
eating half my toast
slamming his fingers
to the beat of the clock

this morning the latte
cried a little when i slammed
its cap on too early
it leaves a small scar in the
center of my tie
i look at during work
between the pulse of my ballpoint
drawing fast cartoons
in the margin of minutes
where

clipped culture
freshly pressed men
remind me of the reluctant steam
creeping out
of today’s baked car tires
all chanting the workers’ prayer

 

 

PhilosopherPoet

Drip dripping

Today I woke up, and for a change I heard the sound of rain oustide my bedroom. I’m truly a european, since I get excited whenever I’m in rain…or it starts to rain. I suppose I like to be around water in general since it has a purifying quality to it.

As soon as my feet ventured out of the blankets, and touched the cold air, they tape measured back under the sheets. The first thing I did to today, was get up and make a warm cup of tea. I proceded to lie in bed and numbly watch the window pane and the crystals droplets, run a race to the bottom of the window sill. i find the rain hynotizing I don’t know why. I suppose I like the rain since it means I can lie in bed all day, eat cookies, drink coffee and watch films.

PhilosopherPoet

The best movie recipe

I have a confession to make…I actually have an addiction problem. Well maybe the word ‘addiction’ has been over used. It is more like a movie problem. I’ve become somewhat a movie junkie. This all started when I got my first computer that could play movies with minimal effort. Anyway my actual addiction stems from my movie problem…

Coffee and Chocolate Cookies!

Screw the popcorn and coke, and the giant bag of sweets. I refuse to be Americanised. The only thing that can fill you up properly and still keep you awake is the power of coffee. The reason I say this is, while I’m watching a movie, I have to be doing something else. I’m to hyperactive to only do one thing while I watch a movie. I’m also turning out to be quiet the caffeine junkie nowadays

PhilosopherPoet