Posts Tagged Sam Cheuk

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Elephant

Posted by admin in Poems on February 13th, 2010

Then count the glasses, the blinds, the dots on the wall, count them, count them afterward, always afterwards, always after words…was it always like this or was it like this then and then for some reason now because of her age, now go.

Rock’n roll

This album is in my car

The hounds of hell,

There is no help for you here girl go away, there is no home for you here, there is no help for you here girl go away, there is no home for you here, that’s right,

I don’t know what to do with myself

Come to me again in the cold, cold night

I’ll just lie in my bed anxiously waiting until you go home

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Turandot

Posted by admin in Poems on February 9th, 2010

This story is what I think of when I think of you.

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Seven: Written in the summer

Posted by admin in Poems on February 9th, 2010

“Rag mama rag this is the band, this is where it is remember shit can you remember this that time we had that don’t worry about that where did they go that is true where did they go now here there here there it can’t be like that where are they, where were they, that’s the wine on the wall this is where I was this is where I was ok this is where I was. Do you hear me? Know this is where I was. The wine and how do I stay out of that? Is that the character? This is the character, the addict, there is one old and young this is ok, there we go that’s fine there why you don’t want that character her e you don’t want that character here is that right ok.”

“That’s it.”

“Where did I go? Is that who you mean?”

“Be careful.”

“Thank you A.”

“Must be careful this is where the need comes from, the need, people knowing where is it going, this is where I was and this can’t go there, this was me calling J and this was me calling my d for lunch, this is lunch. This is lunch!”

“Start again, you here, start again.”

“Never should have taken the very best.”

“This is the table I miss.”

“What are you doing? How are you doing? How’s it going?”

“How’s it going? Pretty good how about you? Hi how are you?” pretty well

“How’s it going, Hi how are you, how is it going? Hi how are you? How’s it going? This is me, this is good I bow down to you to say I would like something from you I would like something from you say I would like things to be like this I have to get this off of my computer to get this going I have to get this going from off of my computer this is how it is going this is how it is going this is how it is going this is how it is going. I left and he took charge he took over I left and he took over this is what needs to happen I left and he took over. This went up too high, went up too high, this went up too high. Keep it lower must keep it lower, the flies ,the heat, the store, the Asian way, the way Dao is the way, the way there are many paths, these are the ways, this has to be clean like a meditation, clean like a meditation, we must ask to go into each other’s room, we have to ask to go into each other’s rooms, this is the way it will be then to ask to go into each other’s rooms we can do that, we have to ask to do that, I think this must be the way to do it, this must be the way to do it, this must be the way to do it. To ask to be grateful to go into what I have to do, this must be written down as it has been written down; this must be written down as it is written down. To combine all three to combine the three to ask before to ask before this will be written down to ask before.

Ok it is important to ask. I’ll ask next time this must be the thing to do to ask next time to ask next time. Please be for me and not for her why did I bring her there to help her to help her but I would like it if she would be there for me. This cannot be ok this whole thing what is going on must be careful and to ask if this is ok to ask the universe to ask to hear you wouldn’t believe what I have heard.

This is ok now be healthy this is who I must see maybe this is who I must see but I have to be careful this I must be careful about this it must be something to be careful about this I must be careful about. They are all crying and it’s very hard to write while they are all crying, they are all crying but I can’t help. I am here at least, I am in the garage and close to them.

Nest time nest time ovulation ok nest time I can keep going, I don’t have to do this I don’t have to I can’t find this anyway I probably can’t find this anyway. Maybe we should go together we should go see someone together we need to see a therapist together I guess we do we should I mean we should see two together. This is what I have this is what I have this is what I have this is what I have.

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Existential Crisis #4 or is that A Creative Crisis or is that creative illness or is that separation anxiety or is that self analysis or is that love found and lost, then web of loss, or is that a cocoon??

Posted by admin in Poems on February 9th, 2010

Oh haven’t I documented the last three?

1: I should preface this with, I had just moved off of college street after living above coco lezzone for almost three years and was wanting to leave the film industry and get married and have children, so this was after getting engaged and my fiancee moving into my new apartment on Bartlett with me from London, while still living in the apartment on Bartlett above Bloor after living with my roommate on college stand before getting married: Crisis

Result of crisis: Left film, started therapy and my second BA in psychology at York which I completed in 2002, two years with distinction and volunteering at the distress centre and in Kanauague Quebec, I never spell it right, as well, my first degree being Honours East Asian Studies McGill 91-95

2: After getting married and buying a house:Crisis

Result of crisis: Finished writing Persephone which I started in the apt on college street written originally for the Anvil Three Day Novel Writing contest, my roommate won, I edited his book, also took writing workshops with author Cary Fagan, and journalism courses at Ryerson and wrote for Eye weekly

3:After kid number one was 18months:Crisis

Result of crisis: wrote 56 poems, read them at the art bar and was told they were more like songs,  was already taking guitar lessons at central tech and in my instructors basement on Palmerston, singing from scratch at the royal conservatory a total trip, then pottery on Harbord, working on film Solace, painting lessons from my neighbours sister in her garden, then into U of T course 20th century abstraction

4:After kid number two was 18 months and my first kid went into grade one, huge separation:Crisis

Result of crisis be it existential or creative: Painting in a studio above The Department Gallery on Dundas West and, Writing, for six months, some group shows, also started poems on this blog, u of t modern architecture course and other prose, I suppose, and in the future like not this year because my kids too young, taking a Humber course on Creative Book Publishing and hopefully getting into the the writing schools correspondence course to write a novel from May to Nov will find out in a few days if Down the Street was accepted, the writer’s circle sounds cool too…

Dorthy Parker picking the word Horticulture out of a hat at one of the writers circles and having to use it in a sentence said:

You can lead a whore to culture but you can’t make her drink.”

respect

If this is not enough shared biographical information for Word press and Google I also worked in film as an assistant director for 10 years and traveled, in no particular order, through Italy, and France, drove and camped through Cape Breton, PEI and Nova Scotia, Scotland, Drove all around Ireland and Northern Ireland to see the Baymoore stone circles just before the Omah bombing of the shopping mall by the IRA, lived in Montreal and edited Vice Magazine, Denmark, Germany, France, Switzerland, UK, camped on the Isle of White, and travelled for three months in China, Mongolia, Myanmar, camped on the beach in Jamaica and saw Jimmy Cliff and Ziggy Marley live, Dominican Republic, California(like 40 times and all kinds of crazy shit) , New York many times for new years and friends and fun, Israel for a friends wedding SO GLAD I WENT just after my fiance moved to T.O left him in our cockroach infested apartment and went for two weeks with friend, Jordan, London, Paris, The Japanese airport many times, Copenhagen, Brugge (piece of my heart there too) Germany did I say Germany already, Munich for a day couldn’t handle the English German accent but went to the Oktoberfest bar anyway “ein beer bitta”,  Berlin, the wall had just come down, walked around east Berlin and the zoo listening to Graceland on my yellow walkman, very surreal, went to Dacau, Amsterdam, bridges and canals and the redlight, ate space cake, went to Anne Franks attic, I have the same birthday as she did and Andy Taylor from Duran Duran or was it her sister…Budapest, Czechoslovakia (a piece of my heart is in Prague with Boris and Dorian who couldn’t go home to Croatia because of the war, and Greece), Santarini with the black sand almost stayed there and worked in a cafe and slept on the floor and rooves for that matter and beaches of course, Edinburgh many times once, the first time, for the film festival with my family drove around in shamu singing all the way, also Sundance that same summer, Drove from Caledon through Texas to Mexico, as well as from San diego to Tijuana, as well as club med Ixtapa, Atlanta, Louisiana, Memphis Graceland, Drove from T.O to Taos New Mexico reading The First Third and wrote with friends, Cuba etc…and was born and raised in Toronto and I’m Lithuanian,  (fuck not Lutheran) but know nothing about that at all, maybe German, maybe Dutch  Jew, Irish, English, maybe Dutch, French, Protestant, (ouch) Canadian Aquarian water rat with Polish, Ukrainian, (Russian), (Israeli) American and Native Canadian sensibilities in some form or another, would like to go to where Pilvishik Lithuania used to be someday to see where my grandparents were from on one side, would love to go to Poland and Russia too, have been to England and Ireland and seen the stone circles and kilns and castles and rolling green moores and landscape unlike any other

Still in therapy, personally and couples  -  try anything you can ie acupuncture, chiropractor, yoga but not right now, massage but not any more, working out,  now going to get into winter jogging, and swimming, trying out the new tabs, alittle p.o.t etc…a drink now and again and good healthy food, I want to be a vegetarian again, I want to learn Reiki, and of course coffee and music, cigarettes only on a rare night out and maybe a dog at some point like a German Shepard or a husky, lab mix or something crazy like that, I love a Doberman but you have to be careful around the kids…and of course spending time in the schools and at home with the kids and helping out where I can without being too annoying…and figuring out how to help people who don’t have these things in a crisis

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Thank you

Posted by admin in Poems on February 7th, 2010

for biking beside me

on my way to pick up my daughter

and take her to the doctor

And thank you for the white bike

I found on the ground

I’ll use it for nights

out

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Can I get you anything else?

Posted by admin in Poems on February 7th, 2010

Just your undying love

And the promise that the snarl is for me

I’m  in my room

you said you could handle it

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This user hasn’t shared

Posted by admin in Poems on February 6th, 2010

This user hasn’t shared any biographical information

- Google or is it word press and I’m being rude?

Who the fuck is Google or word press to say I haven’t shared ANY biographical info?

Who are the people commenting on personal biographical poetry in different languages under made up names?

Where are these user’s shared biographical information?

- Anonymous

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Who? What?

Posted by admin in Poems on February 6th, 2010

Who is you or him?

Who is it you or him?

Who is it me or you?

Who is me or you?

What is me and you?

What about time?

What about pressure?

What about the weather?

Do you want to kill it?

Will it

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About

Posted by admin in Poems on February 2nd, 2010

artlocal 21 represents a local of a larger union, that being the larger art community in Toronto, Queen Street boasting the most galleries in North America in a concentrated area. We like the idea of Dundas West too as a gallery district perhaps a cultural hub, Brockton…This idea of an art union is a bit of a communist concept where no one really profits on the backs of others, it is horizontal and lateral, everyone having something of value to offer, no one more important than the other in that of course everyone including children ride on their parents backs from time to time and have to make a living. artlocal happenings in our very neighbourhoods, the mothers and fathers of the community, the neighbour hood artist, art is a way of life. Being a parent; It is important to be a parent in an artistic way and living in an economically and culturally diverse community is important for learning and growth and most importantly support the families especially in a downtown core. The drop-in centre’s are like free families for isolated urban mothers and fathers, grandparents and children. The community centre for all, the Centre for Mental Health and Addiction, for all, the Coffee Shop, the Music Shop, the Pet Shop for all. This is a drop in art space for isolated urban artists. artlocal like rick ferrari is also a bit of an alter ego for the sensitive artiste in a multi-cultural country where language and communication is challenging for everyone, artlocal kicks in to try and protect. artlocal is also a place where art can be bought and sold. national history. writing about local life.  street name artlocal.  number 21.

Full Circle

I didn’t think that I would be here again

This time I don’t want to make the same mistakes

Consume, consume

What are the mistakes?

What is the fantasy?

Strengthen the core

No one knows the future

Not even I

Lost

Not always

It’s too far away to go at night

I will never paint

I will never write

I have to live there

I have no fucking room

All the space I could possibly have

But I still have no fucking room

Recycling

No more plastic bags per se

Must pay

Only cloth

Or hard plastic stay

Now we use milk bags

Bread bags

Already in use bags

This

Is

How

It

Is

Now

New

World

Order

Architecture

So that’s it?

Great amazing structures of colonialism

Or is it Nationalism?

Identity

Of take over

Of combinations of colonizers and the colonized

Cultural appropriation

Greek Revival

It will never last forever

Sorry

Where are you?

Are you in the car?

Are you in the house?

The living room?

The dining room used for laundry?

The kitchen?

The bathroom?

The bedroom?

It’s mine not yours

The office?

Yours or mine?

Where are you?

I can’t find you

Anywhere

At all

Impressed by the cities ability to deal with the strike

The garbage could be much worse

Unions, CUPE, now hated

Always a problem

No jobs

Recession

No childcare

No work

No tourism….so selfish

I fucking hate CUPE

But trying not to hate in general

I cannot

I do think like this and so I must be like this. I can’t pretend but I can’t mix it in either, it’s just the way it goes, no mixing in this reality and then what about hormones and feeling life has no meaning and then meeting someone who’s love turns you on again is this right?

What do you do with this then? You walk around turned on and hope you don’t get attacked in a dark alley, you can’t be out at night all turned on and ovulating sending out the pheromones or what have you or is this just purely physical? A woman in heat. And does this mean it should mean less? Or maybe more because now that I think about it I really don’t feel this way very often or just once before really at the same age of my first daughter.

Was I looking for you? No, I just found you. When you decided we can’t have any more and I clearly cannot stop but agree we should not have more. This is what we have done; this is where we are going. I cannot hurt you now and I cannot be the older one who doesn’t recognize where things are going and blindly live in the 50’s, I cannot be her/e.

Angle

This angle doesn’t work for me it never has

So every time we have to adjust and remember that it never works for me

But you never do, you never remember, this may be a guy thing in which case I am so disheartened you can’t possible imagine because I love men but if you are all like this I am going to have some serious problems and then again maybe not so many because I will stay with the one I have and appreciate him because he is a keeper and what more could I want from a man who I was married too.

Maybe this marriage thing is the problem, my grandfather told me if you aren’t married then as a woman you aren’t protected, he is 95 and I think common law is pretty good now a days but what if you don’t even live with them that could be better for now anyway. ..I don’t know they say if you aren’t married it’s not for real, it won’t last but I know some who never were and they are fine.

I think I put too much into the dress and rings and all of this security means something but if from inside you don’t have it then it doesn’t matter or is this just marriage or years of being with someone in the same space it just happens, with kids it’s too hard for everyone or the loss we have had.

Is this what I will be searching about forever? I am sorry for that and I will have to remind you of the angle every time.

I only exist in this space

I didn’t think I would be here again,

Only tea,

Only tea,

Shhh shhh shhh

Sleep baby

Sleep

My girlfriend lives up the street

I’m sorry I yelled “HEY!” while you were beautiful

I just couldn’t stand there quietly in your beauty

I was going to say something but

I wasn’t being me

I still see you sweeping in black surrounded by wood and old music

I must have seemed like a horrible force

One day maybe I can say to you in a soft sweet voice

“Baby, don’t clean it like that” like a kiss

I have already destroyed what I have

I feel for sure I can’t go back

All is lost

Nothing good can come of anything

This must be true

I am trapped with feet and hands and now going down this road

Humanity

What

Are you good?

I can’t write this right now the kids just came down

Will They Always Hate Me

Will they always hate me and think it was me because I am the one who yells and you remain quietly passive the victim or the saviour and I the crazy European Jew who yells and gets no reaction from you is this better? If you weren’t a Jew, were a Jew or are you in your genes but not culturally/socially or is this genetic too so that is different would I then be the cold one that is my fear. Why do I never do the same? Why always the opposite way of communicating? Why do I never remember? If you yelled too maybe we would have had a problem. Now I know how to tone it down and you to not be so cold but is it too late, has the damage been done, will you be better off starting again too? Do we continue on? She said. I have parents that get along and turned our relationship into fantasy already and we are together that can’t be right. Some change is good, that word has taken on new meaning but the meaning is not always clear, and sometimes you have to make the change before you know. This is the problem now.

In my closet

I have a shirt that I keep in case the owner comes back for it

I gave away the jean shirt with the white pearly buttons

It’s actually a hooded sweater and a down vest

Will it fit you?

And the sleeves are there for cold weather writing

Some day

Organic or is it passive?

I always thought organic

Was the only way

To play

But now

I see

It is

Shrouded

In passivity

Tea, only tea,

In the afternoon

And evening

Are you with me?

When you take the empty cup away

My self goes with it

Throw it into you

Thrown into you

You say

You say

It hurts your feelings

When

I say

You throw my equilibrium off

When you talk like that

I ask you

Are we never supposed to be honest?

You say

No

I fucking hate you

I fucking hate you

And the way you speak

And eat

And smell

And taste

And your facade

And your weakness

And your strength

The thought of having sex with you makes me sick

Your little words of wisdom and encouragement too

I hate them all

In this moment

But maybe not the next

Runna

Leaves in the park

The darkness and the light

Runna

Runna

Wet smell of green grass

Over hanging trees

A dog

A man

A woman

Every one of them

Departing

A father

A daughter

A mother darting

Living it out on empty

Breathing heavy

Pounding through the grass

Off roading

In the fading light

When you talk to me like that

When you talk to me like that

My equilibrium goes off

The fluid in my head shifts

And I feel like I will spin

All the way down

Rainy Sunday afternoon

I just want to play with you

I can’t reach you here

Maybe for a moment or two

But I need longer than that

To check out your cat

You are so beautiful

I just want to touch you

Can you feel me here?

Are you going in today?

Just stay

Just stay

Crazy Weather

Is your baby

Caught in the rain

I have been angry for so long

Not understanding

Now I know why you never answer me

You don’t know the language

And I don’t know I’m speaking

Until now

I walk in

And see

All I have to do

Right there

And it hurts my eyes

My body ach-ing

Congratu-lations

I can’t stop hear-ing you

The sidewalks are full of strangers

Will you take me as I am?

Picturing you there

We could be man and wife

In that space

I hear you

What you are saying

Is true

And the yellow wallpaper too

I need your love

Your love

And

Your love

And

That love

Fire and rain

Cycle

I will try to figure this out another way

This is true

Honest and blue

I have to be here

Don’t worry about me

I love still love

You can follow me

If any one knows the balance of this

It will be me

It will be me

Snowy day UK
I only wanted to cuddle
sorry if you thought I wanted to have sex

Yes I was ovulating
and the tackle was attractive as are you always
but didn’t you catch the play acting?
Now you are a man of morals

I would never have sex with someone else, not even you, being married
I would also rather die than live that kind of British male lie
you don’t know the half of it do you JI
A facade and deception and indiscretion
soul destroying now you are annoying

More

Love and (be) longing like Maslow’s triangle. Love and longing more poetic but still you can’t carry your love and longing, love and belonging, love and belongings with you all the time when you leave the house, when you are homeless without him or you would never survive and you cannot leave your love and longing, your love and belongings behind you or you would never survive

How long?

You cannot carry your love and longing around with you or you won’t survive

And if you leave your love and longing behind what is the point of surviving

I cursed her one time then wrote on her head

You are home

You can build what you are building

And

Keep what you have already built

“Hipster,

Where has the yuppie gone?

Not that I’m complaining.”

Now

We have come full circle

Is it Neo Modern?

A break with the past as at the last turn

VS

Neo Arts and Crafts

Use your hands but it costs so much

Still desirable

Or a combo of the two

Creating something new

Reminder

You were so surprised

When I put on make up

Did you think I wasn’t a woman before?

I still AM

Thanks for the reminder

But it’s nothing new to me

Just briefly forgotten and new

I hate

I really do

Every generation

Must make its own city

And this is you

“I have a city

In my mind”,

He said escaping

The Croatian War

Killer whales depress me

So does going back to bed

Thank you

Pilates mostly

Yoga

Thank you

Yoga

Hands

And

Yoga

Don’t cross anything

Just bracket

I need my guitar to be at home

How are we supposed to play?

How is this supposed to work?

Interactive

Yes way

No way

Uh huh

Nuh uh

Now Inside

And feeling better

The bad taste is on its way

Out

Sunday Dec 6th

A heavy day

Remembering the shootings someone accused my father of

The poetry reading

Can’t really claim it for my own

Nor the music

Nor the coffee shop

Although all three are helping

I am outside

With a bad taste in my mouth

On January 17th, 2010

How is this supposed to work?

How are we supposed to play?

IN-TER-ACT-IVE

Yes

Artlocal 21 Presents a night of Poetry Readings » Artlocal 21 Presents a night of Poetry Readings

This entry was posted on Sunday, June 21st, 2009 and is filed under Poems. You can follow any responses The poets were talented and charismatic as was the audience, the department gallery with it’s dark orange curtains, black leather sofa and ottoman, lights and eclectic mix of wood and plastic coloured chairs, one black, I never did see who sat there. The benches and the back patio a perfect place to meet for a drink in between the taster, thanks MC, and the rest of the warm summer evening. The artwork colours mentioned throughout, the Canadian mixture of insects, the wilderness, waiting and watching, a loss of innocence, until the next one…

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How

Posted by admin in Poems on January 17th, 2010

How is this suppose to work?

How are we suppose to play?

Interactive?

Yes way

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