The zombie horde is here.
You see them wandering through town
eyes cast down
faces gleaming in reflected glow.
They don’t notice anything
beyond the little screen
that disengages in the lie
of social connection,
introspection?
Zombies don’t know how
to greet a stranger with a smile
to meet a new friend’s eyes.
Their thumbs down
they’re dumbed down.
Mindless, spineless,
hypnotized, mesmerized,
To numb to despise the device
that drugs them ’til they hum,
with zombie poison.
Your wits are dull
Your eyes are glazed
Your ambitions are low
You are dull
There is nowhere
for you to go.
Joy is
is happy feet,
creamy leather
ornate scrolls
and cryptic snippets of
soleful inspiration,
sliced off at the edges:
Be proud in the love you have been given
Ask why you’re doing it.
Your car drive fluevog
to be human
you go give thanks
your sole will direct
and p ills outwards the rest
Spills outward the rest
deeply funky let your life shine in dark
human is to be divine
style is grace
Yes, Sight is a Miracle.
Like the bag says,
“you can’t buy happiness,
but at least you can buy Fluevogs.”
and contemplate
cryptology in your sole.
.
.
The shoes are Fluevog Miracle Sight in cream.
The socks are over the knees from http://www.sockdreams.com.
They’re like a match made in heaven, aren’t they?
They can not see beyond the fog
that is all they seek.
Escape.
They fall altered into pharmaceutical
reality.
Mist like creeping mustard gas
poisons their future
stealing their hopes
ruining their dreams.
They fill their days
seeking nebulous security
altered beyond
recognition.
.
.
For those kids and their families battling with addiction who most need education and school supports to develop health and security.
You
were the stranger in the house
the sullen face across the table.
You
were the accuser in the house
certain of your imaginary world.
You
were the lost in the house
confused by our reality.
You
were in the house,
but we did not reach
You.
Someone said,
“Books are a hard-bound drug
with no danger of over-dose.”
Lies.
I am an addict.
I have clutched my paper-bound
or hard-bound drug until
my hands are frozen claws,
I have lost hours of my life
in the blink of an eye,
I opened the cover for
just a few pages before bed,
and blinked up at the dawn light
as the birds mocked outside my window.
I turn pages until my eyes
can not focus,
my lids rasp close,
my arms tremble,
my fingers numb,
my neck kinked,
but still I read on, until
my eyes
close.
I stagger in a stupor
to my bed.
When I am lost to consciousness,
my dreams are vivid,
I wake with an aching head,
the morning after.
I am a book addict.
I know over-dosing
is a danger,
but
the paper smells so good,
the rustle of the pages
is music,
the story is magic,
and I am helpless in
its thrall.
That’s all.
My name is Shawn,
and I am addicted to books.
It is no surprise to any of the regular readers of this blog that I’m very fond of beautiful shoes. I inherited this penchant from my mother, who had a huge shoe collection while I was growing up (and still does, though unfortunately, not my size!). In the last year or so, I discovered the shoes of Vancouver designer John Fluevog. The designs are fun and interesting, and they are well made and very comfortable. Most of my Fluevog collection is shown in Auntie Bright’s Pinterest board. (Except the Prepare Scout clogs/mules which are not Auntie Bright’s style, but are mine. 🙂 Proof that she’s not exactly like me, no matter what my friends claim).
This lady in Winnipeg, however, leaves me in the dust, and I am rather jealous of her one of a kind samples! 🙂 The way I’m going, I may just have this many eventually. So far, I have a mere seven pairs of Vogs, but check out Rebecca Harasym’s huge collection of wearable Fluevog art! My husband is going to quake in his un-Fluevogian boots when he sees this! 🙂 If she started collecting in 2006, it looks like she averaged something like 20 pair each year… With shoes running $150 to $200 a pair, and boots in the $350 to $400 range, this collection is probably worth $20-30,000.
Sometimes you just get lucky. Unexpected discoveries, simple pleasures, a wish fulfilled…
Three years ago, I started looking for the perfect pair of grey boots.
My criteria:
I found the Second Miracle Logan’s on Fluevog.com and drooled big time. They met all the criteria except price. Unfortunately they were 3X the budget, and there was no way I could talk myself into them. >>sigh<< Every once in a while I’d go back to the site and stare dreamily at them. Then this fall, they were gone. I let go the dream that those were my dream boots. I kept searching for grey boots, but despite the odd ‘grey boots only’ shopping events, I remained empty handed..ur…bare footed?
Today, I was at the Fluevog site and clicked “Clearance.” There were 3 items in my size, and guess what was there? ONE pair of my Logan boots! AND they were so discounted that with tax and shipping they STILL met budget! My boots are in Montreal. Fantastique. Soon they will be here. My quest for the perfect grey boots has finally ended.
It’s a simple pleasure to have a goal achieved. Is this a lesson on the value of perseverence and patience? Perhaps. Lacing them up is definitely going to require perseverence and patience! (No kidding- there is no zipper in these).
I decided that I can’t buy a single additional bit of footwear this month.
Good thing it’s the 31st.
No wait. It’s the 27th! That’s 4 days to remain new shoeless! Wow. That will be hard, but I will fight my base urges and restrain myself.
I’m just thinking about the way we sometimes get attached to things that are not good for us. Something tantalizes us and we are drawn, perhaps against our common sense, perhaps completely innocently. Suddenly we are trapped as attachments glue us firmly to the thing that beguiles us.
It might be a person we fall for. It might be a substance. Others can look at us and see the dangers. We are blind to them in the immersion of our delight as the endorphins of discovery flood our senses.
Our intoxication might destroy us, as alcohol, cigarettes and heroin break down those who adore them. In a short time or a long time their impact is always negative. However, what beguiles us might benefit us. While it might fill us with a gleeful obsession for years, it may also act as muse, fueling dreams and imaginings. So while others only noticed irritating dangers looming over us, some take the danger, celebrate it, and turn it into something beautiful.
Petrarca’s obsession is a case in point. Sure his adoration of Laure endured for decades, well past the time she was moldering in her crypt in Avignon. The poetic expression of his obsession has lasted even longer, coming onto seven centuries. Petrarca prayed to be released from it, to be free to focus his adoration on his God. The writings at the end of his life suggest he felt he reached the stage of relief eventually, but thankfully the hundreds of poems about her remain as a testimony to the benefits of obsessive adoration and addiction to an ideal.
Shawn L. Bird 