T for Tom

Too Cynical

Posted in Uncategorized by johnsontoms on November 30, 2009

I’m too cynical so let’s try this again:

Someone told me, when God created the earth he made it so perfectly that the only thing left was watch it burn, so he populated it with the likes of men.  If that’s true, I believe we owe our favor to the memories darkening the gates of our mind.  Like a shadow we don’t want, we have the lovers who have left us, the families who have raised us, and the dreams we never accomplished to give us all the reasons we need to call the bar home.  And since I’m no bastion of excellence, I’ll fill you in on what haunts my nights: a .264 lifetime batting average.  Good enough to live, bad enough to not live well.  My suitors have been many, each promising something different that might get my swing up, speed my bat up, or get my glove down quicker: Nantucket, Peoria, Sioux Falls, they all come and go.  But what else does a man like me have to live for?  I just keep swinging the bat, and occasionally good things come my way, kind of like the high breaking-ball; swing for the fences when you get a chance like that.

I’m not seeing many of those chances any more, though.  And now the sunrise of my life is fading to evening, as quickly as the afternoon didn’t even exist.

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Chapter 1, short start

Posted in Uncategorized by johnsontoms on November 24, 2009

The beginning to my novel, as follows:

Before God left us alone to walk the earth, he made sure to leave the likes of mankind with one discerning characteristic, surely to laugh at any effort made to make a good life for ourselves: memory.  The thing that torments us daily, pulls at our desires, and forces us to forge a life built out of what should have been instead of what could be.  If necessity is the mother of invention, memory is surely the bastard father of regret.  And for that there are things we can’t escape no matter how hard we try.  It drives men to drink, to kill, to abandon all hope.  And since I’m no bastion of excellence, I’ll fill you in on what haunts my nights: a .264 lifetime batting average.  Good enough to live, bad enough to not live well.  My suitors have been many, each promising something different to utilize to my skills: Nantucket, Peoria, Sioux Falls, they all come and go.  But what else does a man like me have to live for?  I just swinging the bat, and occasionally good things come my way, kind of like the high breaking-ball; gotta swing for the fences when you get a chance like that.

I’m not seeing many of those chances any more, though.  And now the sunrise of my life is fading to evening, as quickly as the afternoon didn’t even exist.

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Quicky

Posted in Uncategorized by johnsontoms on November 11, 2009

I am feeling

kind of lazy

so this poem

will be short.

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Life Starts Over

Posted in Uncategorized by johnsontoms on November 8, 2009

Really, it does.  Can’t be afraid.

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Time To Start Writing

Posted in Uncategorized by johnsontoms on November 6, 2009

I was sitting outside to catch a square and I overheard a guy playing (literal playing, as in on a guitar) “Wake Up” by The Arcade Fire, and moments like that almost always make me want to use my creativity for something, anything, good or bad.  I do have ideas, I’m just one lazy bastard.  Proof:

1.) A full-length feature about a recent college graduate who undergoes the stresses of a broken relationship while failing to find his chosen career

1.a) that same story but moved further along the time period, where about the graduate gets the job but relocates and endures a similar string of events while in a bazaar environment

2.) a novel about the story of a journeyman baseball player, aged close to 30 with a .258 lifetime average in double-A ball.  He starts off what could be his last season really well, and when it looks like he’s about to get the call up, he finds out his girlfriend is pregnant.  He starts to juice and gets suspended, ending his season and career.  Each chapter would start with a stat line to paint the timeline, but it wouldn’t be Field of Dreams, it would be more of Mailer type novel with some Bukowski humor, god-willing that I’m good enough to make it happen.

Consider this my formal ‘I thought of it first’ post so that I have proof of my intellectual property if taken to court.

Anyways, that’s the reason for the season.  And to put something down, as I was smoking outside I wondered in my head what it would be like to just wander next door and start singing, particularly if it were an original, I would’ve inserted my own words, and it would’ve gone something like this (to put it down on the fly):

I went down to the basement to grab me a gun/I was halfway up the stairs before I knew what I had done/You told me to shoot as I looked you in the eye/but I walked out that door, straight out of my mind

and now I’m a drifter without a single thing to own/but I’ve got this gun to carry down the road.

Cut it, print it, the kid’s a natural.  Finally put that education to use.

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