Categotry Archives: Poetry

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Why I Love Canadians

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Categories: Poetry

You should check out the amazing work of Jimmy Brown on flickr! He is graciously allowing me to use his piece “As the Crow Flies (Holga)” on the cover of my upcoming poetry book, Angst and Wrath.

I love Jimmy’s use of beautiful photography and expert Photoshop augmentation. A lot of artists think they can turn garbage into gold with Photoshop: it’s just not true. A gold-plated turd is still a turd. But Jimmy obviously knows how to use his camera first and foremost. The effects applied later only add to the work, turning gold into platinum. Thanks again and keep up the good work, Jimmy!

Oh, did I forget to mention that I’m releasing a book of my earliest poems? Well, I am. 🙂 Written between 1990 and 2000, the poems in Angst and Wrath are classic teenage tempestuousness captured in verse. Know any critics in the scene? Please send them my way! Want to help support this site? Buy a copy on release day (February 1)! The initial release will be available from lulu and Amazon in paperback. I also plan on publishing Angst and Wrath in eBook and audiobook (read by me, since I can’t afford Patrick Stewart) formats later in the year.

See, I told you there’d be big news in 2010! 🙂

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…And A Happy New Year

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Categories: Blackhawks, Christmas, Family, Gaming, Hockey, Loves Park, Poetry, Shadowrun

Now that the holiday season is winding down and life is returning to a semblance of normality, I’d like to thank everyone for all the gifts I’ve received throughout the year. 2009 has been a tough year for many(the McCaskey family included) and the help, support and camaraderie of family and friends has been invaluable. Your gifts, both tangible and otherwise, have helped sustain us, keep us sane and generally lift our spirits. Thank you.

As we look forward to 2010, there are several reasons to be hopeful:

  • Things are starting to come together with some of the writing projects I’m working on: big news on at least one of them is forthcoming.
  • I’m finally going to be rid of the house in Loves Park that has been the bane of my existence for the last six years.
  • I’m still involved in my first tabletop role-playing game in many years, Alex Rodriguez’s Shadowrun 4th Edition game. It’s epic and I’m happy to be a part of the story, even if I can’t be at every game physically.
  • I should be running my own tabletop game coming up soon.
  • My daughter keeps growing and developing everyday. Some days are challenging, some are a breeze, but she makes it all worthwhile.
  • I will be back in school in the fall, barring any unforseen snafus.
  • The Blackhawks are doing great this year! I don’t want to jinx it, but this could be the year Lord Stanley’s cup returns to the Windy City. At the very least, it’ll be an entertaining ride, even if Chicago doesn’t hoist up hockey’s Holy Grail.

So, here’s to the future. May it be better than our past!

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When She’s Not Around

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Categories: Poetry

acrid flesh

the char-broiled sound

down and dirty

when she’s not around

fucking up

all the times we’ve had

messing it all up

when she’s not around

cry

lie

die

the order’s upside-down

I feel the venom burning

twisted words around

make it right

man, make it okay

I can’t stand

another fucking day

with her not around

push and pull

it’s all the same

when you’re dancing around

the twisted, corroded flame

’cause it’s never the same

when she’s not around.

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Bitch

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Categories: Poetry

I’m glad that I met you.

I’m glad that I let you.

I’m glad that we can.

I’m glad that we’re alone.

Aren’t you glad you’re at home?

 

So, you’re sad that I left you,

and you’re sad ’cause I meant to,

but what you don’t understand

is that I’m not the one who’s bad.

And aren’t you glad we’re alone?

 

I’ve moved on

and grown a little too.

So thank you, bitch,

and fuck you.

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Brand New

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Categories: Poetry

This is a brand new poem, as opposed to the recycled old crap I’ve been posting:

A Hall of Mirrors

 

My face in your face

The light in your eyes

Dancing and twirling

Growing, alive

A hall of mirrors reflecting me

 

Shards of glass

Silver and black

Injure and cut

Years of bad luck

A hall of mirrors protecting me

 

Wrinkles and bags

Time’s been unkind

Disease and old age

Inevitable fate

A hall of mirrors infecting me

 

Circles and rings

Forever’s the thing

Betrothed and betrayed

You gave me away

A hall of mirrors rejecting me

 

Faces of friends

Lovers pretend

Once long-lost

And now again

A hall of mirrors connecting me

 

Merging of id

Conflicts within

Shadows and glass

Handful of ash

A hall of mirrors inspecting me

 

Playing of games

Avoid and evade

Questions, no answers

Marvelous tack

A hall of mirrors deflecting me

 

Slap on the hand

Sterner rebuke

Slap to the face

Farcical truth

A hall of mirrors correcting me

 

Lust in my eye

Love in my heart

Could be the end

Rebirth, renew

A hall of mirrors selecting me

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The Closest Thing He Has

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Categories: Poetry

The closest thing he has

is fading away.

The closest thing he has

is turning grey.

 

The closest thing he has

made him see the light.

The closest thing he has

is picking a fight.

 

The closest thing he has

now wants you.

The closest thing he has

has something to do.

 

The closest thing he has

is a ruiner.

The closest thing he has

doesn’t love her.

 

The closest thing he has

has torn out his heart,

and ripped it in two.

 

The closest thing he has

he has not.

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No Berets Or Poofy Shirts Here

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Categories: Poetry

I am a poet, I guess. Maybe I used to be. Anyway, I came across an archive of my old poems a while ago and decided that I might as well share them.

My inaugural post is dedicated to my friend Allison (as is the poem) who took the time to type up my collected poems and save them to floppy for me. Thanks, AJM!

And for the record, I never said I was a good poet. 🙂

Just For You (AJB)

I wrote this just for you;

it seems you’re finally getting your due.

I’ve heard what people say,

but I just don’t see it that way;

what they’ve said of you,

ain’t none of it true.

It pisses me off;

it makes me mad,

but maybe they’re just jealous

of the kick-ass times we’ve had.

 

Know this my friend,

as I write this to you,

(and listen real good, ’cause, as we all know,

everything I say is true):

 

You’re a real good friend,

and pretty damn cool too.

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