Nathan Vienneau: Favorites

Jul 2013 Nathan Vienneau

The Part

Jul 2013 Nathan Vienneau

Morgan

The Part

None of this is real
We make it up as we go
But on rare occasions
Two people may find their scripts
Melting into each other's pages...
Different endings of course
But for one moment
Two minds have conjured up
The same situation
That they wish to live in
At this very moment
Three AM on a Saturday night
In the summer after long shifts
At different jobs
We find ourselves reaching
out for a similar cause
But
None of this is real
And that's why the ending never seems to make sense
To both parties
It's as though our director is missing
And the choreography is always
Right off cue
We're just a bunch of amateur actors
And actresses just trying to feel something real
But it doesn't exist
We are not in love
We are bored
And we are all just pretending
Some of us have mastered it so well that we forget it's just a game
But we're the ones who hurt the most when the curtain falls
And we are left with nothing at all

Jul 2013 Nathan Vienneau

Half Empty

Jul 2013 Nathan Vienneau

Morgan

Half Empty

I had a
church
hymn
for your
funeral
song
You killed everything
And said,
"Sing
over
me
now"
Like a
dare
Or a
threat
Almost innocent...
somewhere hidden underneath
all of the
misplaced
malice
When we were just kids
you'd tell me
to cross my
heart
& hope to
die
But I never really understood
why
I liked the air that
occupied
our town
Pleasant and addictive
like Caribbean ***
I think your problem from the
start
was that you never stopped thinking
about
all of the pollutants that were
potientally
floating through it's winds
Just to stop
& taste it's
sweetness

Jul 2013 Nathan Vienneau

A Stranger's Zipper

Jul 2013 Nathan Vienneau

JB Hawkins

A Stranger's Zipper

To Strive
to live and die
To Try
and try and sometimes fry
But never ask why
Just Keep going,
never mundane
create
appreciate
No mistakes!
For it all contains a little bit of
You
You that is beautiful
You the individual
Alone on your throne
Where did they ?
Oh they're there
and they care
so they say.
As long as you stay.

Jul 2013 Nathan Vienneau

''The Guest House'' by Jalāl ad-Dīn Rumi

Jul 2013 Nathan Vienneau

bebobeck

''The Guest House'' by Jalāl ad-Dīn Rumi

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and attend them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
clean of all its furniture,
still, treat each guest honourably.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
greet them at the door laughing and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes.
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

-- Jelaluddin Rumi, translation by Coleman Barks

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AANcutfMKJk

Exquisitely read by Canadian actor Dennis O'Connor

Jul 2013 Nathan Vienneau

On The Horizon

Jul 2013 Nathan Vienneau

Alex E Morris

On The Horizon

On the horizon

There is a sunset
There is a sea, all salty and wet

On the horizon

Where we where we first met
Where our hearts cried for joy and our minds wept

On the horizon
A future to look forward to,
And a love to be kept

Jul 2013 Nathan Vienneau

Spring

Jul 2013 Nathan Vienneau

William Hubbs

Spring

Cold sunlight on my face
A breeze dancing in my hair
Girls in shorts
Spring is here

Mar 2013 Nathan Vienneau

What's your Forte?

Mar 2013 Nathan Vienneau

Tamar Finn

What's your Forte?

Words. They are my forte,
With them I can make works of art.
And what's best, I don't have to look a certain part.
With words, I can form an empire,
I could topple nations, even form a wildfire.

I was never good with speaking,
Always tripped up, got tongue-tied,
Words are like acid, making the world tie-dye.
And I'm the addict, just sitting there tweaking.

And I know, it probably doesn't sound good.
But if it's all the same to you,
Who decides what's good?
Me? Everyone else? No, it's whoever likes it. It may not be you.
So let me ask, what's your forte?

Mar 2013 Nathan Vienneau

Rip Gonzo

Mar 2013 Nathan Vienneau

The Joker

Rip Gonzo

I wonder as you left the bar that  was it a night of  significance?
Has the  ***** made you blind to that which lurks in shadows ?
Have the lies led you to belive in something  that is not real?

I wonder befor that pipe made contact what went through that untalented mind?
Such a silly  fool  the sound still plays in my ears like a beautiful
piece of music as you collapsed in the street.

The thud as I drove my  boots deep into your ribs.
I wonder  what thoughts escaped  that now cracked skull.
Make me laugh now funny man!

The past has a funny way of creeping up on us.
No soil.
No grave.
I left you broken like a bottle to be
swept into the gutter  wuth the rest of the
trash were were you belong.

RIP  Gonzo

Let the games begin.