Loud as a Whisper

I sometimes wonder why I have a blog at all.  I don’t really use it that much.  Plus I don’t think anyone is actually interested in reading it.

But what I DO know is that BBC TV’s “Sherlock” is about five billion times better than that Hollywood, Robert Downey Jr - Jude Law monstrosity of a movie franchise that is currently polluting the legacy of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman.  Need I say more?  Watch it, please.

It is not possible to prove or disprove the existence of god, so therefore the concept of ‘god’ is irrelevant.

And if god does exist, any being who allows this amount of human suffering to endure over thousands of years is a being that is not worth believing in.

Just my opinion.

I was sitting in Renaissance Coffee for lunch the other day, watching the world go by the window, when I heard faint singing…a young chorus of voices rising from the deep…and yes, they were singing an Adele song…rather off-key, in my opinion.

Now, in some cases, street singers can be quite lovely.  But, in others (as was this instance), street singers can become perverted into a kind of terrorist: an aural terrorist.

Aural terrorism occurs when completely innocent bystanders (like myself) are subjected to unsolicited and utterly destructive performances of absolute horror.  Horrific, and oftentimes tragic, performances of song.  Such was I afflicted this day.

So, I do implore any who aspire to public performance: please try to practice first.

not really here
not wanting to acknowledge the present
running away from the past
focused on a future that might not ever be
throwing punches above our weight
it’s so easy to look forward to something
when you’ve had a lifetime of disappointment
maybe this time it will be different
maybe this time

-P. Cunningham, August 2011

words lost in the ether
what a terrible thing
to have so much to say
and no one to hear your voice
i’m alone again
fighting against myself
equally matched
locked-in for eternity
how do i escape it
i did it before
but now i’m back again
trapped between two worlds
only myself stopping me
seems i can’t explain this one away
i cancel out my own voice
no matter how loud i yell
the perfect wave and counter wave
the perfect foil
leaving it all to silence
to keep me quiet
and put me in my place

-P. Cunningham, July 2011

a walk through the lesser lights
a disheveled man
no doubt aged far past his years
walks by me and says
“hey, young buck, you shouldn’t be down here
if you don’t want to end up like us.
you shouldn’t come down here alone.”
i continue my walk
past the unwashed and unfortunate
men picking cigarette butts off the street
a twenty-first century goldrush
lost in lives that are quickly spinning out of control
while i carry on to vera’s
and my meeting with a good friend
ready to sink my teeth
into the most exquisite pieces of meat
luscious juices still oozing out
washed down with a cheap cola
and i think of where we are
steps away from misery
indulging our greed
and i’m sorry for it
i’m sorry for it all

-P.Cunningham, June 2011

all hail tim horton
the muffin and coffee king
way to go buddy

what have we come to
meeting each other on computers
electronic profiles
digital selves
two-dimensional personalities
shadows of our being
i can’t help but laugh
we’re being judged on visual representation
virtual reconstruction
forgetting the essence of what we really are
flesh and blood
skin and bones
something that can’t be coded
or printed on a page
yes, perhaps we’ve finally escaped
the prison of our bodies
able to exist in myriad forms
able to be in multiple places at once
but who would want that
not living in the here and now
not taking in the present
merely shadows of ourselves
-P.Cunningham, June 2011