Cotton Mouth

I filtered my way through the particle dust
of half-truths ripped through paper moments of lust,
of pizza box promises made payable on delivery,
by loose-lipped evangels that just want a piece of me

Found all alone with nothing but purity
and no one to call to voice my maturity
fading from limelight steeped in obscurity
like a wet blanket I drown my security

Wings torn off, snow-made angels are flailing
their maker’s tongue stuck on the ice on the railing
with a handful of nails and my fist, I am nailing
don’t think I can swallow the pride its entailing

My rampant mouth cottoned with pathetic visions
unable to coherently voice the decision
making the cut and then fearing incision
filling my ears with the taste of derision

I faltered my way through the practical haze
of half-lives lived in vicarious ways,
of found-item artwork in the work-a-day woods,
by half-hearted heathens hiding under their hoods.

© Michael Nolan.  All Rights Reserved

The Uneasy Chair

they sent me to school
where I learned my limits
and I put them to bed with sleeping pills
they sent me to doctors
but my heart wasn’t in it
so I picked up a pen to cure my ills
they know what I need
but they don’t know me
I smile to their faces
with my typical flair
now I’m hearing voices
running full speed
there’s a high strung stranger
in my easy chair

oncoming trains
and looking glass senses
cut to the chase
all the severed defenses
falsely accused
and tired of pretenses
where do you go when you’re gone?
you find it in your heart to move on

I threw them a lifeline
and I caught indignation
they wondered aloud of my rumored demise
Gave what I had
fell short of salvation
so I called an old friend to write the reprise
they know what I need
but they don’t know me
I smile to their faces
with my typical flair
now I’m hearing voices
running full speed
there’s a high strung stranger
in my easy chair

oncoming trains
and looking glass senses
cut to the chase
all the severed defenses
falsely accused
and tired of pretenses
where do you go when you’re gone?
you find it in your heart to move on

© Michael Nolan.  All Rights Reserved.

One Week

When I chose to take some time away from Facebook and other social media outlets eight days ago, I wasn’t sure why I was doing it.  All I knew was that sensory overload was setting in and all signs screamed at me to take a step back.  It’s amazing what you can discover about the world around you in one week if you just shut up and listen.  Even more amazing is what you stand to rediscover about yourself.

I learned that we as a society obsess over the  indiscretions and failures of those we elevate to godlike status because it is far easier than looking at ourselves in the mirror.  It is far too easy to sit in front of the television and watch whore #20 dish about sleeping with a sports star when what we really should be doing is putting down the ice cream, getting off the sofa and focusing on ourselves and those we love. 

That’s the first lesson I learned over this past week – If I am living my life to the fullest, that’s all the reality I need.

I shun so-called reality television and those shows that turn negativity into a ratings booster.  Further, there is longer room in my life for people who thrive on negativity and are perpetually in victim mode.

There was another recurring theme over these few days as well, and one that hit painfully close to home for me – children.  In times past I would lament over how desperately I want to be a parent and how time is running out.  That was the past.  This week I have had the gift of seeing things through the eyes of others. 

  • Someone in my own neighborhood suggesting that juvenile offenders in our area might benefit from a mentor over an ankle bracelet.  One simple statement that could have such a broad and far-reaching impact, changing people for good.  In response to a juvenile crime report, this person said “I wish I could give him a mentor for Christmas.”  Wow.
  • The most recent episode of the ABC show “Extreme Makeover Home Edition”, in which an elderly woman who was herself a victim of child abuse and neglect vowed to never let a child in her area feel unloved.  The wheelchair-bound woman cried not because she was getting a new home and would soon be able to close the bathroom door when she went in, she cried because – in her words – the youth development program that she started would not die when she does.  The largest part of this woman’s home was inaccessible to her for upwards of 20 years due to her condition but she managed to cook meals for as many as 300-400 people who may have not had a meal otherwise.
  • A local charity called The Agape Center works with the disadvantaged right here in my backyard.  I wasn’t even aware of what they do until recently.

That’s the second lesson I learned this week – If I want to see change in my lifetime, I will help the next generation to be better than I am.

I was reminded that I once lived my life by this lesson.  From the neighbor who mentioned mentoring to the Agape Center asking for mentoring volunteers, even a new friend whose life work is devoted to working with the youth in his church.  These people came into my life to teach me and to remind me of lessons learned and when I took a week and simply listened, I became a pretty damned good student.

Go White Girl Go White Girl Go!

I wonder why she didn’t win.

The death has occurred of Michael Nolan

It came via a Google Alert email this morning:

The death has occurred of Michael NOLAN of Curzon Street, Dublin

Suddenly, at St. James’s Hospital. Reposing at Fanagans Funeral Home, Aungier Street. Removal this Tuesday evening to St. Kevin’s Church, Harrington Street, arriving at 6pm. Funeral tomorrow, Wednesday, after 10am Mass, to Mount Jerome Crematorium.

Date published: Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Date of death: Friday, November 13, 2009

No, it isn’t talking about me obviously, but Michael Nolan of Dublin and I have an odd sort of connection that can only happen in the Internet age.

Shortly after I registered my name as a Gmail account several years ago I began to get semi-regular email that was intended for Mr. Nolan of Dublin.  These messages varied from vacation photos to work-related information, even financial and travel messages came across at time.  Over the years I made several attempts to reach the Irish Michael Nolan to inform him of the potential danger of this error, but I was never successful.

In emails long since deleted I caught a small glimpse of Michael Nolan’s life and though we never met or even spoke to each other directly I couldn’t help but to feel some sense of loss when I saw this death notice today. 

It all makes me take a realistic look at how my own passing might be viewed by others in the online world.

Rest in Peace, Michael Nolan.

MDMB v11 – Annie Lennox, “Love Song for a Vampire”

MDMS v10 – Heather Small, “Proud”

Happy Pride Weekend, Atlanta!

MDMB v9 – Pride of Oklahoma, "Thriller"

MDMB v8 – Sarah Dawn Finer, "Moving On"

MDMB v7 – S Club 7, "Don’t Stop Movin"