Made For You

Drink of my body

Maintain our link

Just as before

Everything I do

Is transferred to you

City Rhymes

Originally I was planning to pick Jason up at Weston Station after work so he could get home faster. However, we got a lot of snow today and my drive north from The Junction to Casa Verde was slow. I ended up sending him a text to let him know it wasn't a good idea for me to come get him, and my suggestion after that accidentally rhymed:

"Uber from The UP or take TTC."

Late Night Poem

Cereal is great for dinner.
Towels are my favourite piece of laundry to fold.
Let's face it,
You did not marry me for my domesticity.

Fluid

Fog over everyone's eyes
The silence of morning 

Droplets join streams, always flowing
Sway and flow, move as one

Each day we turn away from the stairs
Water must be carried up hill
Smoothly, quietly
Splitting apart to join others
I watched a woman disappear
Absorbed into the heat and crowd

Is it a monster? A beast to be sated
Drinking us, eating us
Symbiotic, parasitic
The smell and warmth of its stomach
The feel of being digested
Acid in my eyes

Or is a canal more fitting?
Man-made walls containing chaos
Water moving towards a goal
Guided by sharp walls and a dictated path
More gentle to be a puddle

--- C. Sweeton 2016

And I Miss You

Sunday Mornin' Coming Down - A Sunday post about my Dad, named after a song that he loved.

MISSING

rings true

a song from my childhood

that reminds me of Dad

Everything But The Girl (1994)

sounds like Sade but isn't

I wonder if he knew

and

Dad 

I miss you

MORE 

than the deserts 

miss the rain

My Mind Today

Bored
Lethargic
Apathetic
Nothing
K....nope

And Then It Was Gone

I stare at the empty hole...

Gone in a weekend, a gap tooth on a quiet street
Did it have a salvage team? Scavengers for good
Fly away with dripping streaks of insulation
Crows ripping flesh from the body
A raccoon turning a shiny doorknob around in tiny hands
Silver screws hidden in a rat's nest across town

120 years brought to its knees
Limbs torn away, skin ripped off
Strong machinery, cruel tools, frantic excavation
Scrapping through the dirt for the last of the bones
Concrete cartilage hidden in the dirt
Claws digging through grab the last timbers of life

The need to eradicate, a space of non-existence
Eliminating the dignity of renovation rebirth
No chance at restoration or reincarnation
Far from recovery, beyond death

Leaving us with an empty hole

--- Christine Sweeton, Toronto, 2015

Dad

Sunday Mornin' Coming Down - A post about my Dad each Sunday, named after a song that he loved.

A nighthawk and a social butterfly.
Mental numbers focused on prices.
Sailing, squash, bikes, and Wi Tennis or Golf.
Mama's boy, baby brother, posthumous grandfather.
Suits, old tank tops, sandals with socks.
Loving and kind - an amazing guy.

TB - November 2006

Throwback Thursday - Scroll to the bottom of the month and read up. Or click on the earliest post in the month (to view the post and the comments) then keep clicking Newer Post until you finish the month.

NOVEMBER 2006

It was a different time - almost 10 years ago. There are hints at the changes a decade has given us. (Not in my life, those changes are very obvious when reading these posts - I was newly single,, writing a lot of poems, working on university essays, and living the student life with roommates at Le Manoir). I mean changes in technology over the last 10 years: There was a comment from Teri in one of the posts that said, "I tried calling u earlier this week but nobody was home." A land line! There was also something about missing the start of a TV show because I didn't make it home in time, no such thing as PVR yet.

There are quite a few mentions of my dad too! A post about him saying I had a "million dollar smile" and another about him editing movies when I was a kid. Also, a comment from Mom about me renting a scooter in Portugal and Dad riding it.

Noted Post: I really like my post of questions about Leisure Time. I work now for a company that designs 'leisure environments' so spend all day connected to the industry of entertainment. Separate from my work life and on more of a personal level, I think that the thoughts I wrote back in 2006 are still relevant.

Eyes, Unblinking

So raw, I might as well peel off my skin
12" slice along the inside of my forearm
Pull back the flesh, expose the red

Cutters must cut because they forget
What does physical pain feel like?
Disbelieving that it can even be felt

Staring until my eyes dry out
Lids can't close over spheres of crumpled paper
Nothing to look at, nothing to hope for

Crash, in slow motion

CS, 2015

10:00pm 401 Eastbound

Two long rows of rolling giants
Sleep during rush hour
Or eat, or hide
Awake now, to chase the night

Talking to shortwave friends
As the crazy flies swerve and swarm
I can see you, but can you see me?
The wind flows with you

Your kind rule the highway
Side lights and mud flaps
We quiver at your side
But that size makes you lonely

The rolling giants of the night

Let Me Buy You An Owl

I watched her hair turn into leaves.
Don't play with your punctuation Timmy!
It isn't everyday you see your eyebrows.
Talk. Talk. Talk. Talk. Talk. Talk. Talk.
Here, let me buy you an owl.
Why can't it always be Tuesday?
I wish that you'd seen me before I started knitting.
Walk the dog. Walk the dog. Walk the dog.
You shouldn't take the sidewalk at face value.
I can hypnotize my goldfish with a spoon.
Don't make me show you the tea towels!
Take it now. Take it now. Take it now.
Don't park on the coral reef.
Thomas takes everything to the other side.
Please watch the bananas.
Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope.

Slow Internet In Starbucks

It's getting to me.
Day in. Day out.
The days drag by.
Discouraged!

Slow and sad.
Feeling stifled.
It seems so unending.
Suffocating!

Don't throw your hope at me.
I am where hope goes to die.

Twist it. Hate it.
Unmotivated.

My balance of sanity rests on the tip of a needle. Wobbling on a tiny point of a pin. How can it be so fragile? Why is my mind so weak against the normal storms of existence? A light breeze sends me toppling down to a crumbled pile on the ground. It doesn't even take a set back, I could cry at the slightest thing.

How do you know your crazy? When your day is over because the internet is slow in Starbucks. All problem solving abilities are gone - my whole being just shutting down. Depressed. Indignant to any suggestion of adjustment. No! I don't want to figure out something like a normal person. I want to go home and crawl into bed and hide under the covers and cry. Because the internet was slow in Starbucks. It took too much, too much to even get here and now I can't do anything. Because the internet is slow in Starbucks. As I write it, I hear it. Even before that, I knew. I know. I understand that it is stupid. That I am ridiculous. But that doesn't change it.

At least the internet being slow at Starbucks doesn't stop me from writing bullshit on my blog as my mind drifts away to the dark and everything that I am completely steps away from reality.

TB - July 2006

Throwback Thursday - I still haven't figured out a good way to read these old months from Always Standing. Ideally, it would be easy to scroll through, chronologically, see comments, and add new ones; however, there isn't an easy way so just try whatever works for you.

JULY 2006

From the looks of these post, the summer of 2006 was hot and busy for me in Ottawa. It was the summer that I worked at both Subway and Second Cup, while living at Le Manoir and dating W. The reason the blog was called Always Standing is that a summer working two food service jobs literally meant I was always standing.

Noted Post: There are lots of good posts in July 2006, but I like the little poem I wrote called Today about summer rain.

My List

Sunday Mornin' Coming Down - A post about my Dad each Sunday, named after a song that he loved.

------------ from Facebook

I am sure you have seen this list as an image on someone's Facebook status, or a variation there of. I never share it (partly because I never do the "share this if..." thing and partly because, while heartbreaking, it doesn't really apply to me.)

At 6 years - "Mommy, I love you."
At 19 years - "Mom, whatever."
At 16 years - "My Mom is so annoying."
At 18 years - "I wanna leave this house."
At 25 years - "Mom, you were right."
At 30 years - "I want to go to Mom's house."
At 50 years - "I don't wanna lose my Mom."
At 70 years - "I would give up Everything for my Mom to be here with me."

------------- from Me

This would be more accurate.

At 5 years - "I love you Daddy!"
At 7 years - "Dad. Daddy. DAD. Dad. Look at me. Dad."
At 8 years - "Dad, will you play with me?"
At 10 years - "Daddy, what do you think?"
At 12 years - "My Dad is SO embarrassing."
At 13 years - "I hate you!"
At 15 years - "My Dad is awesome."
At 17 years - "I want to move as far away as possible."
At 19 years - "Can't wait for my Dad to visit."
At 21 years - "Daddy, can you come help me move?"
At 22 years - "Can I borrow some money?"
At 23 years - "You don't understand me Dad!"
At 25 years - "I miss my Dad, going to move back closer to my parents."
At 26 years - "Can you give me some advice Daddy?"
At 27 years - "I want to talk to my Dad about it first."
At 28 years - "Daddy, can you help me with this?"
At 29 years - "I don't understand this Daddy. My heart is broken. I would do ANYTHING to have my Dad back! I miss him so much, everyday."

For all years, forever - "I love you Dad."

He Really Is The Greatest

Sunday Mornin' Coming Down - A post about my Dad each Sunday, named after a song that he loved.

Today I am just going to provide a link, to a picture I took and a poem that I wrote for my Dad - almost 7 years ago! Looking over Always Standing it doesn't seem like I have posted many pictures of him, in fact this could be the only one. However, they perhaps are not tagged very well so I haven't been able to find them. I am pretty sure that the photo was taken by me in Portugal, which we visited as a family in February 2006. However, the Father's Day poem was written and posted in 2007.

Please See It HERE

It is all still true. I love you Dad!

Things To Like

Being buzzed, sitting in the back of a cab

Watching the city blur by

When a fart rolls up the front

Until you think about it, then it's just gross

Cool water out of a metal container

Fresh water scooped in hands from a faucet

The sound of crunching snow under boots 

Until nose hairs stand on end, from the cold

T.O.A.M.

The sunrise is longer in the city

Pink and yellow light traveling up tall buildings

It is somehow still dawn downtown

Smoothie for five times the cost of its ingredients

A day of work for a month of breakfast

Sounds fine until you think about it

A good seat on transit makes all the difference

Your own space to think and read and watch

Everyone is quiet this early

Servers in the coffee shop are way too happy

They will hate you by lunch time

But I have mine in a bag

Trying to compensate for the smoothie

- Christine Sweeton, 2013

A Biking Poetry Plan

I am starting to bike occasionally to and from work. I thought I could record when I do and what times I achieve on Always Standing, I could also write a poem each time. During my bike to work I often spend the time thinking about various bike related poems.

Of note is the fact that I am training for a small triathlon being held at the end of the summer on the Toronto Islands, I will post more about that another time.

The Bike To Work - 7 km - Almost totally downhill. My goal for this is to keep getting faster obviously, but I don't want to work up a sweat before heading into the office. So my plan is to try to get used to high speeds on my bike, and use my brakes less.

The Bike Home - 20 km - The first half is flat but the last 10 km is steadily uphill with a 'killer' hill right at the end before my house. Jason has mapped out a route for us to take home that works out to 20 km, it is longer for him since he bikes down from his house to meet me at work. The triathlon cycling distance is 20 km but the Toronto Islands are flat so by doing this route hopefully I can get in better biking shape with the hills so that not having an incline will seem easy.

Today's Times:
To Work (7km) - 32 minutes
Home (20km) - 108 minutes

A Humid Toronto Day

Humid Day In Toronto

My hair is getting frizzy frizzy

Heat makes me a little dizzy.

Look all across this big big city

Haze stopping it from being pretty.

Oh no, oh no, the rain is coming

Tree branches start their humming.

Hurry, check check the internet

Thunderstorms will make me upset.

But lightning's coming much much later

This afternoon, the likelihood's greater.

I just want to be all safe safe inside

I'll wait until this day has dried.

-- CS 2013