On Turning Ten

Dedicated to Peanut, my baby brother who turned a whole whopping twelve years old today. To quote a wise peanut, "Don't be mad at me, you have to accept the fact i am growing up. I wouldn't want to be eleven forever..."

On Turning Ten

The whole idea of it makes me feel like
I'm coming down with something,
something worse than any stomach ache
or the headaches I get from reading in bad light--
a kind of measles of the spirit,
a mumps of the psyche,
a disfiguring chicken pox of the soul.

You tell me it is too early to be looking back,
but that is because you have forgotten
the perfect simplicity of being one
and the beautiful complexity introduced by two.
But I can lie on my bed and remember every digit.
At four I was an Arabian wizard.
I could make myself invisible by
drinking a glass of milk a certain way.
At seven I was a soldier,
at nine a prince.

But now I am mostly at the window
watching the late afternoon light.
Back then it never fell so solemnly
against the side of my tree house,
and my bicycle never leaned
against the garage as it does today,
all the dark blue speed drained out of it.

This is the beginning of sadness, I say to myself,
as I walk through the universe in my sneakers.
It is time to say good-bye to my imaginary friends,
time to turn the first big number.

It seems only yesterday I used to believe
there was nothing under my skin but light.
If you cut me I could shine.
But now when I fall upon the sidewalks of life,
I skin my knees. I bleed.

On Turning Ten, by Billy Collins

When the Stars Go Blue

Dancin' where the stars go blue
Dancin' where the evening fell
Dancin' in your wooden shoes
In a wedding gown
Dancin' out on 7th street
Dancin' through the underground
Dancin' little marionette
Are you happy now?

Where do you go when you're lonely
Where do you go when you're blue
Where do you go when you're lonely
I'll follow you
When the stars go blue

Laughing with your pretty mouth
Laughing with your broken eyes
Laughing with your lover's tongue
In a lullaby
Where do you go when you're lonely
Where do you go when you're blue
Where do you go when you're lonely
I'll follow you
When the stars go blue

When the stars go blue
When the stars go blue
The stars go blue, stars go blue

When the stars go blue, Ryan Adams

A Transitory Figure

Georges Seurat. La Siene a Courbevoie.
c. 1885-86. Oil on canvas. Private collection.

"Daydream, delusion, limousine, eyelash
Oh baby with your pretty face
Drop a tear in my wineglass
Look at those big eyes
See what you mean to me
Sweet-cakes and milkshakes
I'm delusion angel
I'm fantasy parade
I want you to know what I think
Don't want you to guess anymore
You have no idea where I came from
We have no idea where we're going
Latched in life
Like branches in a river
Flowing downstream
Caught in the current
I'll carry you, You'll carry me
That's how it could be
Don't you know me?
Don't you know me by now? "

- Vienna Street Poet, Before Sunrise

Sightseeing

(c) Leopoldina Productions

the same imaginary place

"You know that point in your life when you realize that the house that you grew up in isn't really your home anymore? All of the sudden even though you have some place where you can put your stuff that idea of home is gone... You'll see when you move out it just sort of happens one day one day and it's just gone. And you can never get it back. It's like you get homesick for a place that doesn't exist. I mean it's like this right of passage, you know. You won't have this feeling again until you create a new idea of home for yourself, you know, for you kids, for the family you start, it's like a cycle or something. I miss the idea of it. Maybe that's all family really is. A group of people who miss the same imaginary place."

Andrew Largeman, Garden State

Here you go…

Dedicated to the boys whose band I was asked to help manage three years ago, today. I thought you could appreciate this song. Although we all have gone our seperate ways in search of our dreams, some more lost than others, I hope that you will never forget your roots...

Jude, No One's Really Beautiful (Track 13)

Your eyes are all wet now. You know that I am lying. I swear that I was only protecting your heart. But there are some reasons. (and also some pictures). which if you saw, they would rip you apart. And I won’t watch you cry. Goodbye, I’m an asshole.

I’m almost a tall guy. And fairly good looking. So people, they trust me. But sometimes they are wrong. I have often wondered. Which was the taller: my old pal Alexander or old Kublai Khan? And would they watch you cry? Goodbye, I’m an asshole.

I was a pig. And never no good. Now you can see through the streams in your eyes, every nickel was wood. Your lines are all fading, Your models all last year. I’m still a young man. And I need a new car. Your friends will all hate me. But I know I am smarter. I am in love with a fan. And she thinks I am a star.

And she will never, so I won’t ever. I won’t watch you cry. Goodbye. I won’t watch you cry. Goodbye, I’m an Asshole.

Monster in the Grass