Sense of an Ending

You said, “Let’s meet.”
I am taken aback
By the obvious lack
Of affection these words
Have imparted
They felt like swords
Piercing skin impacted
From the slap
Of cold, cold reality
I knew then…
You were leaving me
To the doubts and pain
That will surely rain
Upon my hapless soul
This was the ultimate goal
You point out it is you
Perhaps this is true
It surely was you
That ended this passion
And left me with the question
What did I do?
 
RhB 201426020106P

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KPOP and me – BTOB

Born to Beat. That’s what they stand for. Seven boys. I haven’t looked for translations of their songs. Sorry. But I liked how they harmonized in this one. I didn’t even care that I couldn’t understand the lyrics. They just sounded VERY good.

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The title is “When I was Your Man.” In Korean, of course. However, I thought maybe it was just going to be a one song band for me. I wasn’t going to write about them if that was the case. But they came out with Beep Beep recently. It’s not the same, but the rhythm seems like When I was…

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For me, it’s worth a listen. One day soon, I really should find a translated version.

**Pictures were video capture from YouTube.

The Excuses we Make

I have listened to an elder
And the things I have done
Made him sigh and say
“If only I was younger…
I’m old now…My youth is gone… “
But if you truly wanted
I wanted to say
You would find a way.
 
I listened as they talked
Of people they wanted to be
And places they wanted to see
“But dreams are dreams
And not reality.
These things… they just cannot be.”
But if they had truly wanted
I wanted to say
They could find a way.
 
There are so many people
In this world of people
With many dreams and wishes
And things remembered
And things regretted
And all I can say
If you truly wanted
You would have found a way.
 
 
RhB 201402190857A

Prisons We built Ourselves

We are beings free and infinite
Until we are not…
We buy into the religion of shackles
And myriad prison houses
And make of ourselves slaves
And turn ourselves into prisoners
Behind the choices we had somehow made
To be one or another…
Bartering with the devil…
And bargaining our lives away…
To the sacrifice of freedom
We built our houses and our kingdoms
Many horses we have wasted
Believing it was freedom we tasted
Possessions possess us
And we are driven mad
For with the many possessions
We make ourselves prisoners
In the very prisons we created
Houses, they call them…
I’ve seen my own…
Four corners, a bed, a throne…
The bars of security
To keep me safe and warm
Somehow seems like bars
That keep everyone else out
Isolated we become
Prisoners of technology
In the world wide economy
We say we’ve seen them all
Have never stepped outside my hall
Not answering the global call
My presence isn’t needed in Brazil
I can browse about it on the sill
No need to visit my San Francisco friend
From Seattle I can join the Facebook trend
Argh!  The clothes I wear
And the trinkets in my hair
Have become a giant headache
Of revolving giant credit
Another heavy ball to place on me
That should have already been free
That day you married me
I found it was captivity
I didn’t realize I traded this
For an unsecured promise…
Forever after was supposed to be freeing
Now it seems like we lied, I’m freezing
Within this cold cold bed
And cavernous house instead
I while away the hours of this sentence
With distractions most apt
Debating on a borrowed screen
With borrowed ideas rapt
At being seemingly free…
Expression of thought, of heart
No one I know is really free
We all have chains and shackles, see
Some are just more visible that others.
 
RhB 201402120829A
 

NAUSICAA – the Defender of Wussies

I was creating a story.  This story unfortunately had a primary female character who was strong both physically and mentally.  She has a lot to defend.  There are some vulnerability, but one has to get past the thorns… er… strengths first.  Then I created a scenario where the woman met the man.  Now, the beginning was that the man was relatively “passionate.”  And by that, I mean volatile.  He jumps in where angels fear to tread or something like that.  The problem is… because they were an offshoot from some relatively erotic fan fic…(yikes!) I didn’t get to their story until later…  When I wasn’t feeling all that well.  The guy turned into a wuss.  In the face of the female protagonist, the character I had was just too wussy. 
 
Because I’m that kind of person, I spoke about it to the kid that happens to live with me.  I definitely used the word wuss.  I even clarified what I thought wuss was like.  I said the man had no backbone.  The man was too retiring and weak! The words “What should I do?” keeps cropping up from the man.  And his sister was the one that runs to his defense?  Aarrrgh!  Wuss… seriously. 
 
Here I am, bashing the character that I made… I did say he was a fictional character.  I said he was created by me.  Oh, my effing gawd!!!!! And I was met by Jeanne D’Arc (Nausicaa, instead, it was requested).   The kiddo said not to use such mean words when describing another person.  The kiddo does not want to hear those kind of negative words about someone else!  Did it seem as if I was bullying the guy?  I just wanted him to have a little more backbone.
 
Aaaargh!  What the hell was I raising?  I was hoping that the kiddo would be someone who would be a little meaner!  Someone who bashes heads in first and ask questions later!  Someone like warlike Artemis or Athena!  Kali! Yes, that one! Nope.  I’ve been raising the defender of all things wussies.  I have brought into the nest an alien creature that I now wish I had messed up a little more.  Why did I teach this kiddo to be nice?  And to defend those who cannot defend themselves?  What the hell was I thinking?  One day soon, this defender of all things wussies is going to go out in the world where big bad people eat wussies and those that defend them get eaten along with them.  Lord, help me!  It was cute when the kiddo was 6.  Now that the kiddo is about to turn adult… Ewww.  I know what the hell I’m going to be looking forward to.  A whole stream of strays.  Those that are too weak to defend themselves.  Aaargh!  Even fictional wussies are apparently worth defending… I’ve created a softie monster.  I will have to recruit a gaggle of defenders for the reincarnation of Nausicaa.  Or is it Buddha?  Maybe Gandhi… (Aah!  I really should have stayed with Robin Hood or Jeanne D’Arc.)  The child has too much compassion.  While nice for those that are the recipient of such compassion, not so great when I’m the one that created the wuss and now have to face such a disgruntled defender of even fictional wusses. 
 
Sigh…. I have no clue how to undo a whole lifetime of messages that it’s okay to defend wussies.  I should have said, if they can’t stand on their own, leave them to their own defenses.  It’s the law of the jungle.  Live and let live.  Should have taught the kiddo to stomp down on people.  Should have taught the kiddo to kick a man when he’s down or a woman.  Whichever was on the floor at the moment.
 
But this defense of a weak man in my imagination and only exists on paper.. er…ipod notes… eeeks…  seriously? 
I have since built up the man’s character.  He has been given a sense of humor and a sense of himself. And a likely explanation for his temporary insanity during that first meeting. I have also given him a brain.  Sometimes illogical, but definitely entertaining.  And I’ve given him muscles… At least enough to carry the woman from various conveyance and bedrooms.  🙂
 
As for my adventures with Nausicaa of the Valley of the… Wine? (we just happen to live in the middle of vineyards and wineries are short drives from our house on 8 mile :-)… I wonder how Eminem is doing? LOL!), that’s continuing.  I’ll let you know how it goes.  I will title that series Nausicaa reincarnated.  The defender of all things wussy and catcher of all things stray.  Especially naked men called Odysseus.  Ugh!  Hmmm… Nausicaa… I should give her a happy ending… because from what I’ve read, Nausicaa fell in love with Odysseus, but he left to meet up with his son and wife.  Geez.  So much for defending and taking in strays.  I hope the kiddo read through that story.  Defenders often get left behind. The kiddo does not want to know the story, I have been told.