Dear Diary

In the depths of my diary
Thoughts I hide so the world can't see
Never spoken, will not be read
Legion the things wish I had said
Lock up my dreams and once again
Pour out my soul with ink and pen
Fantasies, words that were not risked
Memories of your lips unkissed
Here is truth, when I speak it's lies
Keeping these secrets I despise
On pure white page, once more impart
Fragments dark of my smothered heart

Entitlement

I was chatting to my mother last night (as you do) about this and that and the conversation worked its way round to what my friends from university are doing now, jobwise.
Now the thing that struck me at this point was that (like me) most of my close friends are not working in a job that they want to turn into something long term. In the main we seem to be temping, working in retail or doing simplistic clerical admin things. Of my friends who are graduates less than a quarter are working in so called 'graduate jobs'.

Initially this seemed slightly strange, the people I was talking about are all intelligent, (relatively) hard working and distinctly employable (even in a down turn). So how come we are all doing low level short term jobs?

This is particularly the case in my personal view of my own job, which was initially taken as a two month temporary position whilst I looked for a 'proper' job. Over 18 months later and I'm still there on roughly the same wage, still telling people that I'm only doing this until I get a 'real' job.

Have I been seriously looking for another job over the last two years? Apart from a couple of interviews, no.
Is my a job a temporary one? Obviously not
So is my poorly paid, relatively easy position my 'real' job? Apparently so

Somehow for over a year I've managed to deceive myself into thinking that I was just going to get a better job, because I deserved it, because I was entitled to it.

So having finally realised the bleeding obvious I guess it's time to do something about it.

See you in February
D

Mish Mash

Someone appears to be ironically (I assume) marking the occasional post as awesome...I cannot tell you how much good this is doing for my ego. Please keep at it.

I'm taking my own advice and going to the cinema tomorrow, better still I've got the day off work as well. With a bit of luck I'll be able to watch two films back to back, which let's face it should be great. It's looking a lot like Frost/Nixon leading into Slumdog Millionaire, but I'll have to see how it works out...maybe watch a DVD when I get home (I've still got In Bruges left over from Xmas) that's what I call a productive day.

As I write this I'm also browsing over on rightmove.com. My parents are throwing me out (figuratively not literally) so the search is on...the big question is how much do I really want to spend on rent and bills???
Should I splash out for somewhere nice and perhaps cut back on the luxuries to make up the difference? Or settle for something a little smaller, cheaper and in a worse area to leave more cash for spending on things to brighten life up. It's a tricky balance and one that I'm running out of time to solve...my savings may take quite a pounding over the next year

Because I post a poem every week or so it perhaps gives the impression that I'm a fairly regular writer, this couldn't be further from the truth. Like reading and watching films I seem to go through cycles of interest lasting a week or so. This week creative writing seems to have drifted to the top, I even started writing a novel. Jokingly entitled 'Three men in a pub' it's a slightly predictable mish mash of On the road, Withnail and I, Thelma and Louise and obviously 3 men in a boat. Naturally I dashed down a thousand words in about half an hour and haven't looked at the thing since.

Happily when I come to write a poem I usually have a reasonable amount of it worked out in my head before I even reach a computer (or, heaven forbid, make cursory notes on paper...with a real pen). When combined with the relative shortness of a poem when contrasted with a novel we end up with the happy result that I might actually finish something.

Not that I've finished anything this week...but I have started two poems...and I can confirm that at least one line is really something! The rest is thoroughly average, but that line...I can confirm myself to be content

Anyway I'm wandering so let's wrap this up. One more post due for January then it'll be back to the poems in Feb. Till then, this is Dave Marshall telling you to keep blogging...or else...muahaha

One Night with You

You’re the reason I dance
Just want to get close
Stay close
Edge closer
But can’t let you know

Meet you at eight you say
And I’m ready
But wait
Deliberately late
Pretend I’m not bothered

Small talk as we walk
Try to make that connection
Share a moment
Before I have to share you
With friends I wish weren’t here

Cough in the smoke
Laugh at your jokes
Even though they’re not funny
Saying nothing
Just watching you
Stroke your hair or something
Meaningless
But beautiful

On to the club
Try and look cool
Just feel like a fool
This ain’t my scene
But want to stay with you…
…Just in case

Nothing to do so drink
Drunk, say something stupid
And regret it
But forget it
You weren’t listening anyway
More interested in my friend
Can’t leave you alone

Which is the reason for dancing
Got to be close
And stay close
But no closer
Because I can’t let you know

Walk you home
But say nothing
The door clicks shut
And I curse myself for a coward
Like a hundred nights before

My mate Oscar

Let's be honest, January and February are not the highlight of most people's year. It's cold, wet and windy. Dark when you go to work and darker still by the time you get back. Worse still, even without the credit crunch most of your money was probably spent over Christmas so it's a struggle to afford anything to brighten up the gloom.
However there is one obvious highlight of the early months...the cinema

Due to the subtleties of the awards ceremonies entry conditions combining with the traditional delay in films crossing the Atlantic most of the genuinely great films (by which I mean non summer blockbusters) arrive in England in the first quarter of the year. In 2008 it was 'No country for old men' and 'There will be blood' (plus Sweeney Todd, Juno, Son of Rambow, In Bruges and so on). 2009 promises to be even better. Here are a few of the films that I'm really looking forward to

January - Slumdog Millionaire is already with us, but before the end of the month we'll also have two promising political features in the guise of Frost/Nixon and Milk (a profile of the first openly gay elected official in the USA). If you enjoyed Juno then you might like the new Michael Cera vehicle 'Nick and Norah's infinite playlist'. So that's four films that I definitely want to see, even before we consider Tom Cruise taking on Hitler in Valkyrie.

February - If you thought I liked January then hold on, cos February looks even better. David Fincher (Se7en, Fight Club) directs Brad Pitt in Benjamin Button, the story of a man who is born old aged but grows younger as his life goes on (based on a short story by F Scott Fitzgerald of Great Gatsby fame). Woody Allen returns to form with possibly the world's greatest threesome in 'Vicky Cristina Barcelona' and the ever reliable Clint Eastwood directs and stars in Gran Torino.
If that all sounds too serious then get along to Hamlet 2 (Steve Coogan) or a Korean reworking of a classic (with possibly the best film title ever) The Good, The Bad, The Weird

March - There can't be even more great films in March you say, oh yes there can says I. Movie event of the year Watchmen hits the multiplexes on March 6th. What will probably turn out to be the best football film ever 'The Dammed United' follows soon after. And, just sneaking into April (but they all count) Richard Curtis' 2nd outing as a director (following on from Love Actually) with pirate radio comedy - The boat that rocked (yes I know that's an awful title).

Seriously, there's more good films in the first three months than the rest of the year combined.

So until next time, this is Dave Marshall saying 'Bored? Cold? Broke? Get to the cinema!'

Books

There is I think somewhere
A bookshop
Perfect in everyway
Labyrinthine
And I will roam for hours
Searching every shelf
Absolutely alone
Except for an old friend
Who I did not expect to meet

No screaming children here
Nor overpriced coffee
Just the books
And me

Up winding stairs to cavernous lofts
With arched windows
Warmed by August sun
Gaze down upon the muted hustle of the narrow street
So far away

There on dusty shelf
Lies a book
That I loved in my youth
Untouched in years
A previous owner’s name stencilled to the cover
But mine now

Further through musty corridor
Faded maps hanging between the shelves
In this uncharted territory
Authors I have never heard of
Will never remember again
Time slows

Or perhaps speeds
One smile and the bell rings
As I return to the reality
The flood of light and sound
Of a summer afternoon

42

This is it
I finally realised
That there is no more
I do not know what came before
Will not see what follows
I shall be gone

And that scares me
For I had everything
And now a third is gone
Almost all was wasted
And I cannot get it back
You only get one chance

Every moment that passes
I waste a little more
Can’t slow the sands
The light is fading into night
And I am no Joshua
The heavens will not pause for me

A handful have left their mark
All else have faded, forgotten
Perhaps they did not even exist
They are as nothing
Beside the immortal few
But I am not gone, not yet

So when you live, rejoice!
Though it might only be for a moment
Perhaps there is more
But I pity the fool that loses that bet
Naïve, but on one thing I am sure
This is it