18 December 2011
One day, when the little tree was nice and tall, a little boy came along and stood for a long time in front of it. By now, it was blooming beautiful flowers every year that wilted and fell to the ground like snow when late spring rolled around. With the flowers in full bloom, the boy stood under the tree, and left for home after many hours. He came by every day, sitting under the little tree, preferring it over the ones that provided more shade, or with different flowers.
When winter had passed, the little boy came back and saw the little tree, which was blooming again, and stood, admiring it. But instead of sitting under the tree, he walked away and went to another one, which was just as tall as the little tree, but bloomed with different flowers. The little boy spent most of the season with this tree, giving the one he used to like one day a week. Soon, the little tree didn’t see the boy under its branches anymore -- he spent all his days with under the other tree.
One day, after the petals had fallen, the boy came back to the little tree, and stood under it for a long time. The little tree wished its blooms has not fallen yet.
As it grew dark, the boy’s mother called out to him.
“Russell! It’s time to come home, now!”
And the little boy named Russell, before turning away, grabbed a branch from the little tree, snapped it off, and ran home with it. And the little tree watched the little boy run home, with sap slowly dripping from its broken branch.
When the heat of summer came, the little tree lost all of its leaves, long before all the other ones did. The park workers watched sadly as the little tree became bare, but they decided to let it recover. So the world passed the little tree, sure that it was just sick.
“Look at that little tree,” the people said. “Disgusting little thing. They should take it down; it’s ruining the park, looking like that.”
“It’s the tree’s own fault,” said one little boy. “I talked to Russell once, and he said that it made less flowers last year. He said it was sick from the start. That’s why he stopped liking it.”
No, the little tree wanted to say. I made even more than ever last year. It’s not my fault I’m sick.
But trees, alas, cannot talk, and so the little tree continued to be bare, for many years. And as more people passed by the tree in disgust, the little tree started to think that its sickness was its own doing. After all, no matter how hard it tried, it just wouldn’t bloom when the season came, despite the sun or the rain, or the weather. Nothing, it seemed, could make this little tree bloom again.
One day, a different little boy stood in front of the tree in the spring, just as the buds were starting to form throughout the park. After regarding it carefully for a while, he sat underneath it and began to read a book. When his friends came over, asking him to play, he declined the offer, preferring to read.
“Then pick a different tree,” one of his friends advised. “This one is ugly. And it doesn’t get leaves anymore. They’re going to take it down soon, anyway.”
“No, I like this tree,” the boy replied simply.
The little tree was scared, but it slowly produced a few buds. By mid-spring, when everyone was flowering, the little tree had a few leaves. Small, but brilliantly green. The little boy continued to sit under the tree, every day.
The park workers saw this and rejoiced, and they decided that the little tree was beginning to recover, and that they wouldn’t have to take it down. Still, the little tree, still wary, lost its leaves, before all the others. Despite the rumors spreading again that it would be taken down, the little boy read under it every day, until winter came.
When spring came again, the boy came back, happier than ever to see the little tree still standing. As he had done the year before, he read under the tree, and it became so happy, that it pushed as hard as it could and bloomed in full force by mid-season. It was the most beautiful tree in the park, and when others came to admire it, the little boy just smiled.
To this day, the little tree continues to bloom with beautiful, fragrant flowers every year.
10 August 2011
16 March 2011
Once so strong it
carried me across great distances,
And I sit adrift at sea,
in a tiny boat.
I've been here for days.
I huddle in the counterfeited warmth
Of blankets insufficient for multiple
On the sea.
I've nearly run out of all the things
that are supposed to keep me
A cruise ship passed yesterday.
I called to it, to someone, anyone,
to help me,
but no one heard.
Everyone was too busy dancing
in the ballroom,
Spending time with families,
Brothers, Sisters, Lovers.
And now, today, a small boat,
adorned like mine, drifted by.
Two people, a man and a woman,
Greeted me. I tried to gesture to them my need for help,
but my voice was gone from shouting at the cruise ship.
They gleefully waved back at me, in each other's arms,
And I, who have been carried away
on a current I cannot control;
I, who have been separated, thrown aside
by these strange waters…
I have no choice, but to lay under these
blankets, as inadequate as my broken engine,
and wait until the morning never comes again.
22 February 2011
We're in some deep shit right now, Karrie. You know you can't just do crazy things like that. You can't just hack up a guy's stomach and throw him in front of a train!
The girl grabs a box of pins and begins pinning pieces together. Mina reaches for a bag that sits on the table and pulls out a notebook. She searches through the pages, running one finger down each one.
No, Michael won't take us in this time. He was upset about the last time you killed someone.
You know, I wouldn't have to kill guys if they weren't all evil.
They are not all evil!
Mina throws the notebook across the room, but Karrie only stares at her blankly, pausing in her construction of a new animal.
If they weren't evil, I wouldn't be compelled to hate them. And since I do hate them, they must be evil.
Karrie, you hate pretty much everyone.
Mina sinks to the floor, holding her head in her hands. She groans as she tries desperately to think of something useful.
What are you making, anyway?
A new animal. Everyone always sees bunnies as just bunnies. Why can't they also be whales?
Because they don't have fins?
But why? They could just jump in the water whenever they want and start swimming. That's how evolution happens.
Karrie continues to pin pieces together to create a new animal. A door that is not seen by anyone but the characters creaks open loudly. The sound of a gun cocking follows.
Who are you? What are you doing here?
There is silence as Mina backs away slowly, hitting the table with her legs, stopping. Her face slowly turns to terrified realization and then panic.
No! Not me! I didn't do anything! Please, you have to believe me!
A gunshot, and a hole forms in the centre of Mina's head and she falls forward, her eyes wide. Karrie has finished forming the new animal and crawls to Mina's body.
Look, Mina! A Bunniwhale-iraffe!
WHITE LIGHT. LIGHT DIMS TO ALLOW COLOURS THAT FORM THE NEXT SCENE.
INT. A HOUSE WITH WARM-TONED PAINT, CLASSICAL PAINTINGS ON THE WALLS. THERE IS A TABLE WITH A BUNCH OF CARDS AND GIFTS ON IT, AND THE MAKINGS OF A BUFFET TABLE, MINUS THE FOOD. THE FEMALE HALF OF A WEDDING PARTY ENTERS FROM THE LEFT, WITH ALL THE WOMEN GIGGLING AND TALKING. THE BRIDE IS NOT AMONGST THEM, AND IT BECOMES APPARENT THAT THEY ARE WAITING FOR HER. AN OLDER WOMAN STEPS TOWARDS THE GIFT TABLE WITH A LOOK OF IMPATIENCE AND DISGUST ON HER FACE.
Honestly, how long could it possibly take to put on a dress and do hair and makeup? I only had an hour to get ready for my wedding. She's had three hours! I bet my son is waiting, completely ready.
Another woman, of roughly the same age, steps over to Woman 1, placing a hand on her shoulder. Her expression is cheery -- it is obvious that this is one of the happiest days of her life.
Don't worry! I'm sure she's just making sure every little detail is perfect! Why, when I was getting ready for my wedding, I had to turn back to the room at least five times, because I was sure there was something wrong. Took me nearly three hours myself!
Well, as least we know where she gets it from. And why not have the wedding in a church, like normal people do? Why is she having it in her backyard?
Woman 2 picks up a couple of the bags and peeks past the various versions of shimmering tissue paper. With each present she peaks into, the look on her face worsens.
Well, she inherited a wonderful home from her late grandfather. I think a wedding overlooking the coastline is just gorgeous!
Footsteps begin to come down the stairs, and the women all turn to face the young bride. She is dressed in a long pale white strapless gown with a corset-style back. She has left her wheat-coloured hair down, and it flows behind her as she floats down the steps in low white heels. Her face is modesty made up with tones that generously accent her features.
Sorry, everyone! I just couldn't decide whether to wear my hair up or down.
Woman 1 scoffs, placing down the bag she had just been sifting through. Woman 2 hurries to the Bride and grabs her arm.
You're just in time, honey! Let's go outside!
Now, I hope you're ready for this commitment, and I hope you are ready to devote yourself to my son.
It doesn't matter if I'm ready or not. Nothing matters. No matter what I do, you are still going to despise me.
Bride walks out the door to blinding white light.
WHITE LIGHT HOLDS FOR A LONG MOMENT. FADES TO REVEAL COLOURS.
SCENE SHOWS A YOUNG GIRL PLAYING ON A SWING, HANGING FROM A LARGE, OLD MAPLE TREE. THE SWING IS SUSPENDED BY A THICK ROPE, AND THE GIRL SEATS HERSELF ON A WIDE, THICK PIECE OF WOOD. SHE TRIES HARD TO SWING HIGHER AND HIGHER, WITH HER EYES CLOSED. THE LOOK ON HER FACE SHOWS THAT SHE IS IMAGINING HERSELF FLYING. SHE STARTS TO HUM AS SHE CONTINUES TO SWING, AND SUDDENLY, THE ROPE BREAKS, AND SHE FALLS. SHE DOES NOT HIT GROUND, HOWEVER. SHE OPENS HER EYES AND FINDS HERSELF SURROUNDED ONLY BY DARKNESS. SHE HEARS AND SEES NOTHING, BUT SUDDENLY THE VOICE OF A SMALL BOY RESONATES THROUGH THE SPACE.
Who are you?
Words are suddenly drowned by loud static. The girl gasps and covers her ears.
I don't care about your name. What do you want? Who are you, that enters here? Why are you here? How did you get here? Who else knows of this place?
I don't want to be here. I want to go home. I want to climb trees and drink lemonade and play with toys. I want my mom and my dad and my puppy. My swing broke. I want to go home!
There is no way out or in. How you got here amuses me. I want you to leave now.
But you just said there's no way out! What do I do?
I don't care. Just go now. I have decided to hate you, and I don't want things that I hate to stay around me. Now leave.
The girl closes her eyes tightly, and suddenly begins to feel wind in her hair. She opens them again to find she is still on the swing
05 December 2010
13 October 2010
This string of little jewels that
Sit on my desk.
They don't sparkle. They are too dull.
This bracelet has not seen this wrist in a while.
This wrist has been occupied…
And besides, the string has broken
Stretched too thin by use
and it needs fixing.
"I'll fix it today"
"I'll fix it tomorrow"
The next string, gilded;
it sits in a drawer. It is ready
But something stops me.
"Why repair it?" I ask.
"The symbol is no longer relevant,
So it sits. It will be repaired Someday.
And so too, perhaps, the relevance.
14 September 2010
According to the
Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle,
We could be smiling or crying our eyes out.
But we’ll never know until we look.
Humans are complex wavefunctions
With so many terms of kinetic energy,
human-human repulsion and attraction,
that to write it all down could take years.
We could condense the latter two terms into
one called “personality,” but still,
Schrödinger’s equation, a combination
of these wavefunctions, needs to be
broken down to find the answer.
You solve. You look. You analyze.
You look again and the result is different.
A new analysis is in order.
With the knowledge of the principles of
We no longer expect,
There are rules that simply work,
that explain the phenomenon of life,
But for no apparent reason why.
So when you walk across the street,
Or are wheeled into the hospital,
Or see your lover after many months,
Or a few hours,
Are you laughing, or crying?
Break down your wavefunction…
And find out.