A Different Perspective.

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Cherry Blossoms

A sea of pink flutters by Dancing, twisting before my eyes A sweet silky smell fills my nose Tantalizing my senses with a heavy dose The cherry blossoms highlight the trees On every street from Victoria to Cambie But there's nothing like enjoying such a sight Then with someone you cherish, here tonight Like a velvet snow it brings out the best Igniting spring fancies, stirring new interests For the time taken to fall in love I reckon Is the same speed cherry blossoms fall, 5 cm per second

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1 Zone or 2?

The murmur on the bus Becomes a drone to my ears A sepia-toned reality Email inbox is clear The metal cage lists right Brakes grinding to a halt Somebody steps on Leaving behind the cold asphalt She pulls coins from her pocket The clang of quarters bellows through Too much change for one zone So must be for two Numerous depressing headlines From today's issue of 24 What a bleak picture it paints No point reading it anymore When I raise my eyes I feel my limbs freeze The most piercing Brown eyes Lock sights with me The richness and depth Never been matched before Much like a layered painting So much hidden meaning held in store! Those inquisitive eyes Make it impossible to speak They instill unworthiness Transform the confident into meek And yet they draw you closer Leaving you wanting more The magical stories they could tell Attracting like heaven's door But then the bus lurches A loud ping resounds Reality dawns upon me We're Zone 3 bound She braves the elements The cool, rainy outdoors The colour drains away again Things return to the norm once more I pull out my phone Fire up Candy Crush Only 28 stops to go I'm in no rush

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"You keep hiding from shit in the world, and eventually the world comes to your front door"

Terry Hoitz (Mark Wahlberg) - The Other Guys [2010]

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If I could have it back, all the time that we wasted, I'd only waste it again

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Delightful Dilapidation (A Poem About Broken Windows Theory)

Glass crackling rings throughout the deserted square

Brick and mortar coated with messages of despair

  The words and sounds sing like a herald from afar

Shining like a beacon, a guide to a north star

  For all the delinquents and scoundrels a chance is within reach

While nobody is looking, while nobody will screech

  To unleash their inner demons, inhibitions unrestrained

Responding to these signals, almost as if trained

  So to drive out the pests, make the area less dreary

Keep it clean and in repair, says Broken Windows Theory

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Slow Down

The lights pierce tirelessly 

Illuminating the ghosts below

Driven to drudge endlessly

There's never time to slow

  The sights, sounds saturate the mind

No time or room to think

Wishing my senses could be temporarily blind

From the city to desync

  In my dreams there's a place of simplicity

With a silence that fills the square

A soft breeze kisses my cheek, without the toxicity

Of the polluted air

  Putting my ear to the sky

I hear a familiar tone

From a place that has passed me by

It's yearning for me to come home

  From the deepest depths of my mind

I know it to be true

I miss my quiet far away place

and it misses me too.

[iraffiruse]

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LOL this is frickin' hillarious

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Even when you might not have it, you'll make the time for those that you care about

Mama Le

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LOL this is too funny

(Source: http://www.vancitybuzz.com/2013/06/meme-for-the-mayors-of-canad/)

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The more things change, the more they stay the same

Jean-Baptiste Alphonse Karr (1849)

[iraffiruse]

On Yahoo! buying tumblr

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Oh gosh...lol

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David Eby sticking it to Clark.

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There's no other explanation on how they won again.

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So that's where they get the ideas for their songs

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Surprises (for J.L.)

Eden

Scorched and desolate

A listless testament to ailing hopes and dreams

Each bead of sweat, each tear shed

Swallowed whole into seeming nothingness

With every ounce of strength forecasting futility

A softness sprouts from underfoot

Hope

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Half Empty

The kettle whistles

A sea of bleakness blankets the sky

Sordid tales resonate endlessly in the living room

Colours of the past suddenly flood

Eyes drawn to the door, a familiar tune rings

Come home soon, adventure is calling.

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Life itself is only a vision. A dream. Nothing exists save empty space and you....and you, are but a thought

The Mysterious Stranger (Mark Twain)