Concatenation

grew up a rough n' tumble girliehood, boyishhood, two
but they didn't know
sometimes
couldn't tell the difference
God knew

fuck

wore something tragic, itchy scratchy pleated plaids, Scottish kilts 'cuz i wasn't
slip-on clogs that made clop-clop sounds on marked terror-tories,
was the smelly paki horse wishing delitescence
sigh...complete erasure wasn't possible
brown punching bags were trendy, visibility required

Sir Robert Borden Junior High. 

often sported crooked bangs after grinning chop-chop shears made stereophonic shunning sounds
ears got clipped, blood psycho-delicooed on piliferous skin
spilled crudely through that most torturous of exits when objects incomprehensible jabbed in discreet push ins, push outs

push ins, push outs

yeah, a boy in a girl, girl in a boy, he and she were tightly wound to make we two one, wounded
a freakin' child, only

chee, chee, shame, shame

oh but their snickering n' snorting 'cross the pavements left scars deeper than Great Slave Lake
spitting invective like they never knew their mothers' names
jagged little rocks hurled with hideous speed, sculpting screaming crevices
who would've thought that such ravaging could come from the graceful physics of a perfect pitch

their eyes never lied, sadistic juvenile joys

so i turned the shelter of my hands into fists
ran after these flimsy pawns with the menacing thud thud of the monster in the closet
eclipsed their repellent malignancy with the bright raging wrath of a tits-before-time pre-teen

last of the famous...ha ha

punched, kicked, wrestled, scratched, gouged
this mighty heart showed no mercy
viciousness propelled 'til I could no longer see their dirty buggery disguise
tore their beastly souls asunder

avenging, satisfying a thirst, lust

pressed their immaculate complexions into the thick brown mire
how does it feel, I laughed, laughing long and hard, long and hard
malice in my core, I was like them, not like them

no

a boy in a girl, girl in a boy, he and she were tightly wound to make we two one, wounded,
i cried to the Restorer
hoped for my brothers and sisters, we'd all win this fight
our arsenal, gleaming serpentine swords
we gut-spilled destruction in these remorseless reincarnations, these sad sad granules of humankind
oh, such waste, such waste
they were

'til they were no more. no more. no more.
'til the scars vanished
'til the nothing became something-something
or the girl became the boy, the boy became the girl, two

such were the menacing dreams of the child, whispered into existence with God's ayatul kursi
born in war
born broken
born tainted

born doomed.

Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tick. Tock.

A Lost Cause

A glass jar had shattered to the floor

It was on its way down shortly after 

the deep, insufferable tremors 

lasted 

shook the temple and its striations to the core

Oblivious to those ominous split-second cracks

blinking oddness

for a ceaseless period of tick-tock tick-tock

the delusion of normality endured

despite

its slow steady ascent to a world of alien audibility

fury

High Park, Toronto. PHOTO BY SHAZIA ISLAM

Then like the flashes of lightning exploding into Clap! Clap! Clap!

The irreversible shift arrived

self-deprecating, immobilizing

mischevious

Numbing the once habitual intonations and inflections

All vanished without a trace

To be replaced

by

A most vigorous series of efforts

originating from strangled caverns

twisting, turning, 

twisting, turning

A mangled perturbation

A lost intimacy

Some laughed

Some mimicked

Some looked horrified

Some doubted

Some gossiped

They opined madness or a severe dis-EAZE

Some desired to silence these delinquent tribulations of tone

Some offered cough drops.

The awesomeness of NOT having what it takes...

Ice sculpture of an angel. Winter in Toronto 2015.

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about mediocrity. I've been thinking about it because that's where I'd classify whatever talents or skills I have. I have not been able to rise above my "just average" persona in all the areas I've studied or trained in (and I've studied quite a few things in my life!), and the more I relax into this realization, the more I'm liking it!

Many of us learn from a very early age that we're supposed to be better than others, superhumanly perrrrrfect, and then some! When we don't accomplish such feats, we are then encouraged to feel envy/hatefulness towards those who seem to be pushing forward and who demonstrate remarkable talents, skills, and competencies, who force us to look at the insignificance that's staring back at us in the mirror. We feel a strong desire to reach for the same immortality that such awe-inspiring people in our activist and artistic communities have experienced and are experiencing. But like Thomas Hardy's Jude, there is always some invisible but strongly felt weight on our backs that slow us right back down to a "finish-last" trot. And then POW! We are forced to grapple with the absurdity of what we were attempting to do. We realize our big mistake! How dare we try to stand side-by-side with the gods!

At the same time I acknowledge the often incredible barriers that exist in the matrices we live in. We each have had life experiences and were forced into certain social positions that have pushed many of us to the margins with no access to schooling or employment that could improve our condition. If Jude were alive today, he'd see that not much has changed!

But could we try sticking it to the man (no joke here but we are still living in a patriarchy) by cultivating an appreciation and compassion for the "skill" of just being average? It can be such a powerful thing cuz it liberates us from toxic behavioural responses to other people's successes (particularly towards our peers), and also brings us closer to loving ourselves and our shortcomings.

Is it ok to be viewed as inept? Well, Hollywood makes it a thing in some of the movies out there as more often than not white female leads stumble their way through 1.5 hours of trying to prove their competencies in the rom-com balancing act. Despite their obvious lack of smartness, these women manage to find the one guy who proves they really are worthy because he actually likes their amateur charms (then again the message could also be saying that men like dumb women)! (Sorry for the heteronormative example but it's Hollywood for a reason.) Real life is real life and not fairytale lala land though. When we don't get the kudos we hunger for, some of us turn ourselves into hissing narcissistic cats clawing at anyone who actually is miles ahead of us and deluding ourselves into thinking that we're always first past the post even though we haven't lifted a finger to master our trades. But again, an exploration of the hows and whys of our dysfunctional views might reveal that the overarching powers-that-be are telling us that we'll never never never have what it takes. So then we enjoy watching reality TV shows that say the same to other fellow humans.

There is something to learn from Hollywood cuz the characters are actually likeable, even loveable, in their quirkiness and incompetency. And then they become our heroes and sheroes and theyroes cuz they're so right in their wrongs, and through them, maybe we could learn to like our own commonness instead of suffering and struggling like poor Jude.

Even though our talents/skills may be second-rate, the effort and the risk we take putting ourselves out there to become laughing stocks or gossip-fodder say so much more about the spirit in our souls, and our unwillingness to give in or give up. Once we are OK with ourselves, then putting ourselves out there in the mediocre ways we do is just FINE as is.

If we still feel that strong desire to reach beyond our limitations, we can do this by living joyously and vicariously through the achievements of great people we have the privilege to be close to. We can nurture admiration for their focus and mastery without ever wishing we could have what they have cuz we are happy people where we're at with our underdeveloped but loveable capacities.

We all have our moments of greatness of course, even when we only experience those moments at home in our baggy tees and pajamas. I and many others will remain unremarkable in the things that put others ahead of the pack. But let's take a step back and really look at our insignificance in the eye, shall we? I genuinely believe that greatness lies in the mundane. Jude's humble demeanour was an epic ideal of personhood to me. I fell in love at first read (I've read Jude the Obscure an unexceptional 3 times!). It is through such humble natures that we can sense greatness of kindness and patience. Greatness of humanity and compassion. Greatness of love and adoration. Greatnesss of momentary passions and interests as we strive to create, to learn, and to rejoice in just the effort. We are the best listeners.

To those who are making it, I applaud you warmly and thank you for being champs in our communities; I wish you continued success and public acknowledgement for your hardwork. To those like me and Jude, I applaud you warmly as well and thank you for being your oh-well-humdrum selves; I wish you continued pleasure and joy in the journey towards mastery even though you and I know we will never reach that destination.

Here's to peace, love, and just being mediocre we!