B is for Stealing

[blogging brings a kind of discipline. not totally sure what to say today. maybe i rest. still, i need to post. so enjoy a piece i wrote some time back. then rest. pax] What. What has befallen the cathedral? What midnight witch has set a curse upon this house… and given birth to turbulence? They were gods, you know. Young gods. And they blessed us with their love. Her power lay in his words And his… Lay in the scent of her hair. And we who were privileged to draw near to their space, Their place Knew what love was. Stained between sheets of glass. Etched in marble. Her finger nails carved out his sighs and we echoed it like a prayer. But now, ill mannered birds circle the sanctuary And that which is vile lives there. The rain exposes our tears. Come! Bring the oils. Retrieve the texts. Maybe we can save this place, make it a safe place. With a kiss… And a prayer… And maybe the “gods” would return there. Broken Cathedral… 01:11:09 © Tracy J Hutchings

It’s been three years that I’ve been in love… in lust… in something with one of my exes. But it is only this week, moreover this weekend did I feel both a sense of relief and pain that it was over. It is finally over for me and that is… good. I’ve been in love with my ex from the time I realized it. Didn’t tell her though. One time I told her “I think I’m in love with you” – I knew I was. Grief, I knew I was a long time now but between my personal jargon and things that I noticed or whatever I don’t think it came out really. How silly. I called her Saul’s Harpist. The sound of that giggling/chuckling over the phone made smile and… good. SIDEBAR: Okay for those who don’t know, King Saul was the first King dude of Israel. He was good until he was not and then he started to be disturbed. That is, until his son’s friend – the one who would later take his throne – David would play his harp or sing his psalms. The sound of it all soothed David because the Spirit of God was on him and no ...

His penetration did not fill her void It calmed her some Filled her lungs with the air she would need for the end rush But… There was no happy ending The chasm was too deep and much too wide For a mere pound of flesh to fill She thanked him for his B+ effort “Please come again” Her legs were now closed for business The darkness swallowed what she could not The void was wider than she could spread Pain and pleasure was an uncontrolled fever And the bed sheets offered… No solution. The Chasm 29:07:11 Tracy J H

When I was nineteen I came upon a girl who was wonderful. Her girlfriend thought she was wonderful too. One time I liked a girl. My friend also liked the girl. He had a car. There are girls who know me as a mad man. There are girls who know me as a philosopher type. There are girls who know me as both and these are committed to staying mere friends with me. Primarily because they are committed to their boyfriends/spouses/cats. One of my sisters Leizelle has what I define as a groovy and wonderful marriage. I lauded her and Christopher on what I deemed a groovy union. She explained to me, “All we did is marry our best friends :D ” I realized that was the best answer I had ever heard! It was so obvious. It was like trying to open a metal door with your shoulder, then suddenly someone comes and says “have you tried tuning the knob?” Doh! Of course as I sat down to it, I realized that I can’t marry my best friend Sure he looks like a girl but it’s just… it’s just not the same, you kno...

It is quite possible that I am caused to fall in love for the sole purpose of praying for people. This is not to say that I do not pray for people. Or that the people I do pray for, I am romantically entangled with. No, this is to say that when I am in love, whenever that feeling sweeps over me, I pray with a belief. A belief that says all that concerns them (the interest) will be well/at peace… reach perfection even. I remember in junior high or FIVE RIVERS JUNIOR SEC as it was then called, I had fallen for a girl called Diana. Given my present understanding of “goddesses” I chuckle so hard. She is still a… good friend of mine. But I remember in my state of euphoria over her, that I commanded – yes commanded the star that lay in the general location of her house to watch over her. * I suspect I did the same to/with God as well. There is a Biblical saying about approaching “boldly before the throne of grace”. Now I never worshipped the goddess grace but Jehovah, well yes, Him I did ...

Praise: The say self praise is no praise. Please. Let’s be real. Often times, the hardest person to please is your self. It is not the critics. They can be rationalized and/or dismissed. But it is you, you who sit down labouring over every brush stroke, every word, every line spoken… YOU are in fact the enemy of your soul. And then there’s the other guy, but let’s forget him for now shall we? The problem with mankind is that to accept that you are proficient at what you do or that you are good at who you are is to imply arrogance. And arrogance unlike VISA y MASTERCARD is not accepted everywhere. Therefore the artist, the creative, the logician, the philosopher, the film maker, the designer, the blogger and the banker contracts within themselves, for there is always a fault with self. And even if some external force should applaud, all thanks are defaulted, as you cannot come to full terms with the genius you may yet be. Foolishness isn’t it?  Now as a theist, I [quite like every...

Something amazing happens when you become attracted to someone – your best self emerges. In the unlikely event you weren’t LIVING this best self before (or else you’ve tried to ignore it), suddenly (and without warning! – I like saying that), you have become the vision of the man or woman you could be. Those of you who know me know how prone I am to make everything a god. This is not good for a MONOTHEIST. But when I say god [common g] I refer to a quality or series of qualities that causes all other humans to become spread apart like the Red Sea, leading you onward to this goal. I look at some of these girls in my life and I realize they carry a godish quality about them. Some are hiding it (And this makes me very, VERY annoyed) and others seem to know that it’s there… but have not become arrogant by it. Of course being somewhat… priestly of some form and a hopeful romantic, it is possible that I am merely projecting an imperfect perfection on them. This is a hypothesis I am willing...

Another late entry but still... timely. Pax. There is a man. He sells Gyros. And while there are many men around Trinidad selling Gyros, this man am I interested in. I stopped (we stopped), past the horde of greasy stall owners with claims to halal burgers, to a stand lit by one bulb, with one man- Middle Eastern – trying to unravel a roll of foil that at the time was besting him. he stood up as the car approached. Heaven knows how long he was there. and he waits on us as I dilly and dally about the ratio of lamb to chicken gyros I wanted (I eventually settled on all four lamb gyros). One single stall. Everyone seemed to know where he was (MY MOM knew where he was) and they slowed their cars to get a gyro. The mixed ones seem to be all the rage. I looked at him and felt something. Was it pity? Did I feel pity for this lonesome gyro dude? Nah, that’s not it. I felt something between appreciation and honor for this man. for while the masses gripe about getting up early he stays late do...

This should have been out Sunday. sigh. Thou shall not over-think too should have been the 11th command... i think. When I was little I dreamed of the Day of Judgment. I was in a well lit room – it looked like a cave to be honest (and was very bright) - and I was next in line. Now there was a human in front of me and I don’t remember seeing who it was, but what I DO REMEMBER was walking out of the light. Or rather, getting ready to. I figured – oh hell, I’m doomed already [besides, the guy in front of me seemed to really be getting grilled]. So I turned to walk out of the well lit judgment hall and this being who was next to me [I assumed he was my guardian] said to me basically “where are you going?”. I got the feeling that he was genuinely concerned that I was giving up or maybe he knew I was already “in” but you know what they say: hope for the best, prepare for the worst. In my [frequent] depressed states about/with God, this dream pops in my mind and I wonder. It’s funny. While ...

I sit here thinking of my flabby stomach and non muscular physique and I realize that it is now close to a year that I’m to go swimming in order to return to a svelte form. I haven’t of course. I blame it on money – the constant degradation of my salaric content. Yes… I just said “salaric”. But really, I could squeeze a little more to pay bills and look good so… the truth I guess then becomes I have no woman. And no woman means no motivation. Or rather – no prospects no purpose. The year after my spinal surgeries, I returned to the Centre [Princess Elizabeth] to say hi. I think we talked about what exercise regime I was on or whatever, the point being, the conversation ended with “Well I have a woman now so I have to look good eh”. Scoff all you want. This one unadulterated truth remains: we strive to look good so that others may concur. Even the lesbians work on their fitness to attain finesse. *   The very act of personal grooming is a convoluted route on the highway of sex. *...

There are people who go on vacation. I take days off. This time though it’s a little bit of a difference or so I tell myself as I embark on an 8 Day Detox in order to… I don’t know what for certain. Now one can say that only rich starlets who shave their heads go on detox sessions. I say, “you eh know me or wha?!”, but seriously I have felt this feeling for some time now – that I need to regroup and fast before… I don’t know what for certain. Yesterday (Wednesday) was Day One – and in true detox style, I spent the greater part of the day acclimatizing to these [old] new surroundings. My body was in pain. I felt nauseated; my eyes hurt and my… innards felt like a storm waiting to happen. If I had powers of any real kind I would say that the darth weather we had today is a manifestation of the way I’ve been feeling inside, which is… I don’t know what for certain. My phone is on silent. I could shut it off completely but I fear that will lead to the temptation to flip and see what’s go...

Everyone has his or her writing style. Mine can be described as clinically obtuse or “deep”, which is like “interesting” to the uninitiated. “That’s interesting”, usually means: A). “I never thought about it like so” OR B). Like bad coitus, you are forced to ask – what the hell? I was going to speak about the hilarity of writers who critique by their own reflection (don’t we all, I ask). Instead, as I stare into scripts that need writing… and projects that require closure, I’ve opted instead to speak about the [non?] value of a writer: Writers are important to the process. Thank You. * * * * * * Everyone is a writer these days. Just read “my life in porn – the autobiography” to find out. Though, from a critic’s POV there may be a lot of back and forth plotlines in that story. Seriously though, spend a year in advertising and all the illusions (allusions) you have about writing will cease. I think they should teach that in schools. “Okay class, remember, “i” before “e” unless deali...

As the last straw floated down on the camel's back, the outsiders remarked disgustedly, "What a weak ass camel!" The camel would have spit on them had he any strength left to do so. Funny, how they saw the landing of the single, solitary strand but not the baggage, strapped and covered in sheets. "Weakling! No right to bear the name camel!" says the ones whose silk hands mistake Prestige with Good Fortune. In pain... The camel chuckles at them. Outsiders.