sprung forward

Just now I’ve noticed that all the clocks in the house are wrong except this one on my laptop. (And perhaps the ones on the other computers, but I haven’t checked those.) It sure doesn’t feel like six am, but I guess it is now!

Today I went to my first Tai Chi class about nine years. It’s really pretty hard to believe it was that long ago, but I looked it up, and the class I took at the U was in winter ’95. I was a senior in HS, and I needed gym credits to graduate from HS. (I also needed US History, which is why I never actually graduated… sure, I registered, but it was the first “real” college class I’d ever taken, and fuck if there wasn’t a lot of memorizing useless dates and shit.)

Anyway, the class was great. I’m still recovering from my cold, or it would have probably been better. Durring the meditation part, and in some of the stretches, I found I couldn’t quite follow all the objectives, because it was extremely hard to breathe exclusively out of my nose all the time. I am actually really looking forward to the meditation portion as much as I am learning and doing the form itself.

Tonight a bunch of the guys came over and we played Settlers of Catan again… it was really slow going, and I kinda feel like I need to take an “official” break from that game. It’s rappidly losing its appeal for me.

Nate and I decided to put a movie in at about 1:30, when everybody else left, fully expecting to fall asleep to it, but for some reason I’m still up. I even got in bed about an hour ago, and I’ve been writing ever sense. I started by just jotting some crap down mindblurb style, and then wrote a poem for every cheesy line I’d written. Click below for the results:

—-

a peculiar zen

morning, you are out
I haven’t slept yet
my night “with the guys”
hung like a cheap cigar over my shoulder
killed time

your night, out
I don’t know where you are
you haven’t called
I don’t know if I should be scared, I’m not
but am

just a wee bit
scared that I should be scared
more than the scared itself
and imagining that you like it more,
out than in

—-

quiet within

in a wee hour
wondering whether the Tai-Chi master
likes kung-fu movies

if I were a master
would I have time for cinema?
would I appreciate the fake but beautiful?

—-

stone wren

the stone that thought it was a bird
spun through the air, flirting
briefly with the waves
nursing thoughts of fish from the lake
dizzy with lust for flight
it saw itself reflected against the sky
and thought it had become
the white moon
finally it sunk slowly to silt
a dervish–
numb, and closer to its god