In every heart, there is a room

a sanctuary safe and sound (And so it goes, Billy Joel)

Note: I’m not too sure, these were a bunch of verses kicking around my notebook, and I tried putting them together.  I do like the idea of creating a home, mostly thanks to http://www.onemanga.com/Living_Game/.  Check it out.

In this house

The clock here still ticks,

and this clock it talks

In this house

He was not just a carpenter

They say that only because he’s a little wooden

Listen to Mary

Not just mother, but Magdalene as well

He was not just a carpenter

In this house

The bed is cold where I lie

The air fogs up wistul with sighs

Ever night since i was 12 I’d pray

That you’d come home today

Because a house on its own is empty

And this room for one is too plenty

I’m not just a carpenter

Build you this house with my hands

Put up the roof with my left

Use my right to

protect this house from heart’s theft

But still we feel the need to roam

A house is not a home

Construction from destruction

And I destroy

Nails, wood, plaster, friendships, and possiblities

I had to clear a plot,

I had to write a plot

To make room for this

I made a home in my heart

And you’re the only one who knows

But Rob, what is spoken word?

http://www.ted.com/talks/rives_tells_a_story_of_mixed_emoticons.html

This is cute.

Never told you

Remember when you asked

“Is there someone else?”

I lied

I’m not a good person to be with

I’m too used to flirting with disaster

I just want things to move faster

Cause I’m too busy trying to outrun my past

That’s why these things can never last

Remember when our parents met?

And talked about you?  About me?  About us?

I squirmed

I’m not a good person to get involved with

Ever since I was a kid I’ve moved around from place to place

And I’ve never really figured out how to just occupy my space

I’ve always left, moved on, hoping my heart could keep pace

I’ve never really learned how to just own my face

Remember when we stopped falling, and started being?

When we were on the edge of stability?

I tried

But I’m not a good person to get involved with

Or maybe I’m just not a good person to begin with

Maybe you should start with someone else

Maybe it’d be better to your health

I wish you the best, I’ll drink to this

For us to be together, someday (when I’m not a mess), is my fondest wish

Remember when we stopped falling, and started being?

When we were on the edge of stability?

I tried.  I didn’t know then, but I was scared.  I couldn’t take that last jump.  So I found excuses.  So I ran.

Remember when our parents met?

And talked about you?  About me?  About us?

I squirmed.  Because I was thrilled… but I’d never been to that place.

I’d never had something so real enter my space.

I had run here, but my heart hadn’t kept pace.

And now I’ve realized, so my steps I retrace.

Remember when you asked

“Is there someone else?”

I lied.

I never told you.

There isn’t

Remember when I hurt you senselessly

And you couldn’t understand why?

You couldn’t have

Remember when I hurt you senselessly

And you couldn’t understand why?

You couldn’t have, because I didn’t either

Notes:

I think this gestated for a while in response to a question I was asked.

dear mindy

Note:

This never saw the light of day because eventually I just thought it lost relevance.  But I did think it was an important message; still do, but I think he’s doing well at least.  Maybe the public has forgotten, but the man himself hasn’t.

Does this make sense to people?

baby sister, know that you’re dear to me,

and I don’t know what lot you’ve been cast

but I want you to have nothing to fear, you see

I don’t want you to have to grow up too fast

there are people in the streets now screaming “yes, we can”

but that’s a declaration of ability, not action

it’s a call of potential, not kinetic

and i want to be able to tell you that:

my generation was essential, not pathetic

because my generation is supposed to be the next great generation

like the greatest before us, who mobilized throughout the nation

but before them a depression, and afterwards a cold

so we should be careful, lest we shy away from being bold

and it’s true that we are charged (imbued, invigorated)

but all that energy gonna go to waste

unless we too take up a charge (unless our hopes are consummated)

like those before us, who made haste

when it came to war in vietnam,

march with a million men

with whom i’m going to cut the fuse

to this ticking apathy bomb

(stop the struggle and only then)

will i stop fighting, will i muse (if not, then i can only muse)

that before the storm, was a fragile calm

when people thought they saw with opened eyes

when people thought they would meet change with open hearts

when really we were in the eye of the storm

for in our pride, we set sail without a chart

because without a plan, without design

we might as well plan on staying for a million years

and many may be forced to resign

themselves to the reality of living in fear

and without some real action of yours or of mine

we may only cut wider our swath of tears

cause man, you talk pretty, you talk well, you give ‘em hell

you talk good, you talk like you should,

but I just want you to mean well,

and I want us to do good

and maybe this time,

we can balance that governmental trinity,

cause I think it’s about time

to give it some divinity

we have so much capability

but your vote is not your proxy

promise unfulfilled leads to culpability

action is achieved only through moxie

and why, why do we even bother

getting hung up over the running mate?

that won’t clear the sins of the father

what we should be doing, is shunning hate

cause baby sister I want you to hear

that we gave a damn

to save what we held dear

to save uncle sam.

that we had courage under fire, before initiative died,

not that yes we can became well… yes, we tried.

and not that fire was extinguished, before it got very far,

that yes we can became yes we are

that each one of us did their part

that each one of us did not rest

that everybody gave, soul and heart

that every black man, white woman did their best

that each one of us performed with verity

to prevent a repeat calamity

that we did not squander our prosperity

that our man filled his capacity

that our good fortune could pass to our posterity

well damn, that’s some real audacity

because yes we can, isn’t yes we will

and if we do nothing real, then nothing happens until

yes we can becomes yes we could’ve

i hope re-election doesn’t sound like yes we should’ve

our great new hope

needs our strength behind him

to get us up this slope

lest this ember get too dim

so vote for change, but think of a scheme

otherwise, we might be in for a surprise

when our newly elected hope splits at the seams

and we wind up in a haunting reprise

so get up and do, don’t just sit there and sigh

you have no right to complain if you’re not part of this team

help us start something new, >we’ll talk with each other<, we’ll build a tower to the sky

and in spite of the rain, still people, i have a dream

that baby sister, you’re gonna read this someday

so i’m gonna say here that i’ll try

so that, when you get to my age

you can look me in the eye

and say, “you made good on your promise,

big brother, and now i,

me and my generation don’t have to apologize

to nobody for leaving them a reality pre-destroyed”

love always,

your brother rob

======================================

because yes we can doesn’t just become yes we will

and yes we will won’t happen until

we decide that it’s time to swallow this pill

and aim for the sky, not just aim for the kill

promise unkept

potential unreached

unfulfilled

possibility unrealized

40,000 Flags

Note: Written after the display on Lincoln field of 40,000 flags for the victims of Darfur.

40,000 Flags

And you still have to multiply by 10

And they’re still too close

They’d have to be 6 feet apart and 3 across

And even ashes need more space to breathe

40,000 flags at half mast

Flag on a green – hole in one

Bullet hole in one

40,000 flags in high stakes Minesweeper

Little flags that mark the boundary

between brother and brother, us and them, here and there.

Little orange flags that say caution, but they should be red

And even if we had 10 flags for each person, would it be enough?  Would it account for what’s happened there?  For what’s happened here?

One flag then for every Son left Motherless, every Father left Daughterless, every god left faithless, every hotel left too full, but every heart left too empty, every mind left vacant.

Little orange flags to serve as urgent reminders or little orange lies to ease our  minds.

Tiny orange flags, tiny orange lives

Now in Providence, but still in Hell over there.

40,000 flags times ten reasons for the next flag to be white.

Untitled (V6)

Notes:

This is the cut final version.  “Kiss the Girl” from the Little Mermaid replaces “Call me, Call me” because the narrative changed and the music changed to reflect that.  Thoughts on the sleeker, trimmed down version?  I feel it doesn’t end on as much of an upbeat.

The big questions… the big questions are easy.  Everyone knows them – Life, death, war, peace… love.  Why shy away from it?  What else is there to talk about?  I mean I know; these things are tough up close.  And love?  [L-O-V-E].  Love, I mean the topic that has been written about the most.  Do you know how many songs have been written about love?  I mean… actually, there wouldn’t be much point to music if there wasn’t love right?  Music is poetry that tries to capture love, but because it can’t just be captured in words, music is poetry in motion.  I mean, why shy away from it?  What else would I talk about?  I mean, why not aspire to inspire?  [Cue].

Because… her name was… is… was… My best friend – she liked me, and I had no idea.  This was the girl, who gave me my name, who gave origin to “Rob”; a person who’s an intrinsic part of my being.  She was probably the first girl who I had ever been real friends with, the one who helped me with my first girlfriend, the one who helped me come out of my middle school shell.  She gave me a necklace for Christmas freshman year.  Wooden beads, little carved Tiki head in the middle.  It had never before occurred to me to wear jewelry before.  But I wore it because I knew what it meant to her.  And then it snapped during a forward roll in an audition.  When I told her, she just looked at me with a funny smile, and next Christmas, I was similarly adorned once again, and she told me with that smile to be more careful this time.  And save the shower, it’s never left my neck since.  Because I knew what it meant for us.  By the time I liked her, she was about to go out with another guy.  And so when the time came to object to their union, I forever held my peace, for a few months.  [Yesterday].

I called her.  And I told her about my issue.  The issue? The issue is that it’s so… much.  It’s too much to handle, for you and them both.  The issue is that it’s too much of yourself, and too much of what you perceive they are.  It’s too much right now.  It’s too much at any time really.  It’s too much pressure.  The issue is that you’ve put a lock on your happiness and made somebody else the keys to your own personal salvation.  The issue is dignity.  The issue is that this argument all falls apart when you weigh it against something like that.  The issue is, that there is no issue.  It’s just that after the first time you say those three words, everything you say from then on seems less real.  And I told her.  And said goodbye.  And that was that.  [Cue].

I mean, why do we like somebody?  What is the intangible element that makes one person infinitely more endearing than another?  It’s impossible to identify.  But someone who can make you laugh, cry, bare your soul, that’s someone to like.

That summer, I had to help her through her breakup, her depression, her father’s death.  And I asked my best friend if she believed in second chances.  She told me later that when she heard that, she had thought she meant me and her, and that her heart had leapt, leapt like it had the first time.  And I got my second chance.  Then we touched, and we kissed.  [Kiss the Girl].

The first kiss with someone is special, sacred even.  I mean prior to that, you save yourself.  You make sure that it’s someone you want to spend the rest of your life with.  Because the mouth is a gate to the rest of your body.  And those awkward invading tongues when you have your first kiss?  That’s you and your love trying to touch each other’s souls, but too afraid to go past the gate.

And I believed in you, and I believed in me, so consequently, I believed in us.  [Cue].  But then, it just wasn’t the same.  The timing was off.  And that dance that we had been precariously tiptoeing around each other in suddenly changed pace.  [This Train Don’t Stop There Anymore].  And so we parted… amiably.  But we parted.  And it hurt.  Hurt like it did the first time, but more.  And that was it.  I mean, can you imagine anything worse?  To have known your one true love and have it all go away?  This is the one subject that may possibly be written about more than falling in love, falling out of love.  Can you imagine that?  All the time, somewhere, someone’s heart is breaking.          But I mean, what’s the use?  Why not resign ourselves to it?  Why pretend like we’re immune?  [Cue].  Why try to hide the fact that I’m a closet optimist?  The big questions… the big questions are easy.  Everybody knows them.  How will I live?  Will I die happy?  Who will I fall in love with?  [Sally’s Song Reprise, Finale - Reprise 1:37].  And because she was there in the beginning, when I was learning about heartbreak and heartbreaking – her name was… is Alison.  I wanted to be touched, to be felt.  I wanted to find my poetry in motion.  And I still do.  Why shy away from it?  I’m sorry I never told you that I still do.  Those three words: I love you.  I’ve always loved you.  [Cue].

Untitled (V4)

Notes: This was written for Intro to Acting and Directing.  I had this idea to incorporate songs, which she eventually mandated.  The song list is as follows: Sinatra’s version of “L-O-V-E”, the Beatles’ “Yesterday”, “Call me, Call me” by Steve Conteh from the Cowboy Bebop OST, Elton John’s “This Train Don’t Stop Here Anymore”, and “Sally’s Song Reprise / Finale” from Nightmare Before Christmas at Time: 1:37.  There are more songs that were in consideration which I might put up at some point, because I think they’re good songs (ex. “Drops of Jupiter” by Train).  There were also some other requirements which make for some awkward bits of writing at some point, including incorporating lines from other people’s monologues.  This is the uncut final version.

This story is true.  Most of it.  That is to say, that what didn’t actually happen in this story, is more than what did.  This is the version that gives the poetry motion, that does the whole thing any justice at all, because there’s wanting you can’t touch, pain you can’t penetrate, joy you can’t embrace, if you were just telling this story like it happened.

When you play a hand of poker, you have decisions to make.  First, blinds; simple enough, unavoidable bits that affect everybody.  And after you see your hand, you have to decide what to bet, or whether to call somebody else’s.  You lie, you scheme, you bluff, you call someone else’s.  But for me, there’s no point in most of that.  For me, it’s all in or nothing.  And I know that sounds silly.  I know you want to play cards with me now.  But listen, what’s the point of just going around?  There are so many things out there; so many people to meet, so many questions to answer.  How can you expect to get to it all if you’re playing the quarters game?  I mean there are big questions to answer, and how would you ever explain to those people that you were too afraid to let go of the quarters to meet them?

The big questions… the big questions are easy.  Everyone knows them – Life, death, war, peace… love.  Why shy away from it?  What else is there to talk about?  I mean everybody’s so flustered when somebody brings it up; I mean really brings it up.  It’s all fine when it’s textbook, but throw one of these textbook munching little nerds into war and it all falls apart.  These things are tough up close.  And love?  Love, I mean the topic that has been written about the most.  Do you know how many songs have been written about love?  I mean… actually, there wouldn’t be much point to music if there wasn’t love right?  Music is poetry that tries to capture love, but because it can’t just be captured in words, music is poetry in motion.  I mean, why shy away from it?  What else would I talk about?  [Touched]

I wrote that.  A while ago.  I’m an aspiring poet.  That’s not true, I’m a closet poet, and I aspire to be that filth on the bottom of a shoe.  I sold my soul years ago… well, except a little piece.  I’m a business major.  Which is to say, I aspire to nothing more than the world’s oldest profession.  I’m in marketing.  And actually, the world’s oldest profession is probably more pleasurable.  And why?  I mean, why not aspire to inspire?  [L-O-V-E]

Her name was… is… was… My best friend – she liked me, and I had no idea.  This was the girl, who gave me my name, who gave origin to “Rob”; a person who’s an intrinsic part of my being.  By the time I liked her, she was about to go out with another guy.  And so when the time came to object to their union, I forever held my peace, for a few months.  [Yesterday 00:00, 00:39]

I found out I was being sent to boarding school.  I told my friends, they were crushed.  I told her, she was more crushed.  And then the weight of not telling her slowly came down on me, until I was the most crushed.  So right before I left, I called her.  And I told her about my issue.

The issue? The issue is that it’s so… much.  It’s too much to handle, for you and them both.  The issue is that it’s too much of yourself, and too much of what you perceive they are.  It’s too much right now.  It’s too much at any time really.  It’s too much pressure.  It’s too much emphasis.  The issue is that you’ve put a lock on your happiness and made somebody else the keys to your own personal salvation.  The issue is dignity, embarrassment.  The issue is that this argument all falls apart when you weigh it against something like that.  The issue is, that there is no issue.  It’s just that after the first time you say those three words, everything you say from then on seems less real.

And I told her.  And said goodbye.  And that was that.  [Call Me Call Me]

I went to boarding school.  I met a girl.  She was the kind of girl with whom I could forget my best friend.  She was graceful, smart, vulnerable, infinite in her emotion, like an ocean of melancholy.

I mean, why do we like somebody?  What is the intangible element that makes one person infinitely more endearing than another?  In a recent poll, frat boys responded “looks”, athlete’s said “body”, sorority “money”, and one fat kid responded, “Why like somebody at all?”  But someone who can make you laugh, cry, bare your soul, that’s someone to like.  Then we touched, and we kissed.

The first kiss is special, sacred even.  I mean prior to that, you save yourself.  You make sure that it’s someone you want to spend the rest of your life with.  I mean, hell, maybe even save it for your wedding night.  Well, in any case, use protection.  Don’t just go out there to kiss whoever you see.  Really though, the mouth is a gate to the rest of your body.  And those awkward invading tongues when you have your first kiss?  That’s you and your love, well you and your kissing buddy, in any case, trying to touch each other’s souls, but too afraid to go past the gate.  I mean I knew a girl who went to a fair, and a boy tried to kiss her.  And I mean, he succeeded, she just didn’t kiss back.  But she spent a long time wishing she could make it up and count another as her first.  But of course, like so many things, after the first time, it starts to mean less.  And after a while, you wonder why you ever worried so much about it to begin with.

Then we broke up.  I went back home that summer, and my best friend was going through some trouble.  I had to help her through her breakup.  I had to help her through her depression.  I had to help her say no to cocaine.  I had to help her through her parents’ divorce.  I had to help her with her dad’s alcoholism.  I had to help her with her father’s death.  I had to help her.  And I asked my best friend if she believed in second chances.  She told me later that when she heard that, she had thought she meant me and her, and that her heart had leapt, leapt like it had the first time.  And I got my second chance.

And I believed in you, and I believed in me, so consequently, I believed in us.  But then, it just wasn’t the same.  The timing was off.  And that dance that we had been precariously tiptoeing around each other in suddenly changed pace.  And so we parted… amiably.  But we parted.  [This Train Don’t Stop Here Anymore]  And that was it.  I mean, can you imagine anything worse?  To have known your one true love and have it all go away?  This is the one subject that may possibly be written about more than falling in love, falling out of love.  Can you imagine that?  All the time, somewhere, someone’s heart is breaking.

But I mean, what’s the use?  Why not resign ourselves to it?  Why pretend like we’re immune?  Love is the way to embrace pain.  You’ve been cultured to embrace this your entire life, with your entire being?  Her name was… is, in an order known only to me: Alison, Rebecca, Caroline, Emily, Sarah, Jessie.  Why try to hide the fact that I’m a closet optimist?  The big questions… the big questions are easy.  Everybody knows them.  How will I live?  Will I die happy?  Who will I fall in love with?  I wanted to be touched, to be felt.  I wanted to find my poetry in motion.  And I still do.  I’m all in.  That’s the part of my soul that I kept.  Why shy away from it?  So, I’m heading out.  I’ve got a date.  [I Believe (When I Fall in Love) 2:15]