Quasi...

A poet adrift!
Lost without meter, form or structure,
A curse burdening his head,
A gift weighing down his heart.

Searching with intense nostalgia
His poems of yesterday,
Pictures that were at one time a mirror,
Are now but a distant memory.

A broken man,
Faking serenity, having lost touch with himself.
Intolerably, incoherently rambling,
The unintelligible scribblings of a fool.

Grasping at straws of lucidity,
Unable to stay afloat in a sea of expired ideas;
Ideas exhausted to obsolescence.
Only cryptic rhetoric crushing him on every side.

Stuck in what seems a perpetual purgatory
Not quite what he used to be
Not quite what he wants to be
Quasi-Me

---HalfCrazy

Silence.....

Every time I get the opportunity to occupy even the smallest amount of space alone, I am reminded of my self-imposed oath that I will, one day, live alone. It's not so much that I hate being around others, as a matter of fact I love being around others, maybe a bit too much; group activities are kinda my thing. Instead it might be that I spend so much time in the company of friends that I have a deeper appreciation for the few, sparse moments of solitude I afford myself by the way I live my life.

The silence in those moments is so freeing. My mind wanders to a place where my thoughts can roam as far as the horizon and beyond. The ideas take on a life of their own and become greater than I'd ever thought they could have been. One of my favorite poets wrote, "Sometimes silence is the loudest kind of noise," and she is not mistaken. Sometimes it has the ability to deafen and drown out one's state of lucid thought. But sometimes, the stillness has a way of calming one's nerves and relaxing the spirit.

That's the way I like my Saturday and Sunday mornings. I sit in almost perfect silence only intermittently interrupted by an MSN alert or two, a passing vehicle or a neighbor's singing. Even then the calm is quickly restored.

I've always lived with people. I shared a room with my brother till he was about 8 or 9. Then again at 15 when we moved to Jamaica. For the first year and a half of college, I shared a dorm room with one of my closest friends, and for some time a Mexican exchange student. Then after moving off campus I shared a room (of sorts) with two other friends, before sharing a room with my brother again, and a house with three other friends for the next two years.

I've always been around people. That's why I wanna live alone; maybe for a year or two. It's not so much for the liberty. I've always had about as much liberty as I wanted. It's for the silence. Four walls and me just wading through bad ideas searching for pearls of wisdom in my head. I think I might just be able to write a book or two!

Stifling....

Mandeville stifles. Me. Every writer is dependent on the regular up-chuck of bad ideas and the cleansing effect it can have on the brain, so that the good ideas can flow, from lips or fingers.

However, I find myself blocked. Not the kinda blocked where the words don't come and even the thesaurus seems like gibberish, but the kind where emotions elude me. While ideas and thoughts run amok in my mind like men under the influence sporting jet-packs, the emotion to truly capture these ideas and record them to pad or blog seems distant and I'm not quite sure why.

I think I'm holding back because of something that I may have done or that may have been done to me but for the life of me I can't figure out which. The frustration of all of this is one that's almost unbearable. Then again, it could be the claustrophobic enclosure of mountains that cause my thoughts to not flow.

Whether you attribute it to the unpredictability of the universe, some predetermined master plan or some twisted combination of the two, life and all that it contains has ways of making us feel insignificant. We all feel enveloped by the vastness of the universe, known and unknown. To some this provides a certain certainty, that allows them to trust completely the boundaries that nature has set and the established rules we must abide by. Yet we know one certainty to be true still; rules are made to be broken or at least bent.

And so from these mountains, I have squeezed the ounce of inspiration I needed to write 'something'. Not sure how much help it will be to anyone, but I'm once again working my way out of a slump.

T.O.T.D: "If The Writer Writes For Others, He Has Lost The Purpose Of His Gift!!!"

Losing Family....

Sean Connery said it best in 'Finding Forrester', "Losing family obliges us to find our family. Not always the family that is our blood, but the family that can become our blood. And should we have the wisdom to open our door to this new family, we will find that the wishes and hopes we once had, for the father who once guided us, for the brother who once inspired us, those wishes are there for us once again."

The fact is the more we lose family, the more family we find. While our new family members are never meant to replace the ones we've lost, they stand as constant reminders of the love and familiar care that we once expressed and will always hold dear.

And just like blood-relatives they are always there providing the consistency one needs to grieve and the support to get through it all. Most importantly, your family will refresh and reaffirm your faith. Not only faith in humanity, but your faith in God. They are the arrows that direct you to the Comforter, for in them you find that although they are strong when you need them, their mortal strength will only be a pillar for so long.

To the family....
Let us never forget that we are the beacons, the way-marks and our role is only to map-out the path and allow God to apply His soothing balm.

Let us love, now more than ever, each other and find comfort, solace and refuge in the family!

T.O.T.D: "We Cannot Lay Aside The Memory Of Those Who, Before Us, Have Departed Because They Have Become Us And We Them. We Must, Then, Cherish Their Memory As We Do Our Very Beings!!!-----Elias Orville Dupuis

Sorry It Took So Long...

Maybe it's the anticipation of friends near-forgotten, having not seen them in what seems a lifetime, or the mouth-watering prospect of being on the cusp of finally graduating, but something has me wanting to go to school; and desperately. So much so that I've forgotten to enjoy my trek to back to school.

Tonight, I'm writing from a home that I've visited on many occasions and it's always a pleasure to be sitting and talking with family, even if it once again signals that my short-sighted government, who ironically is investing heavily in tourism, has yet to afford my nation a night-landing capable airport. Yet even the joy of hanging with family, whom I last saw a few years ago because of the many interesting routes I've taken to Jamaica over the years, pales in comparison to the burning desire to get back to familiar surroundings and faces. And to think just a few months ago I was itching to run from it to the uncertainty that home offered.

Be careful, though, that you don't interpret what has been a fore mentioned, as meaning that i did not enjoy it. That was not the case at all. I enjoyed it all, from the sweltering heat and horrible humidity to the air-conditioned newsroom of one of the top radio stations in the country and every degree in between. The long Sabbath services, drawn-out by incredibly beautiful singing (it's in the genes...lol) and heart-wrenching testimonies are just part of the experience of my entire "summer's experience". However, I have come to realize that with each tropical depression, summer slips away and I have arrived at it's inevitable end.

I felt it about a week ago and I knew that I had already turned the corner and school was staring me right in the face. Surprisingly and, like I mentioned, I don't know exactly why, my attitude towards the notion of returning to school is better than it's ever been. And I understand that some may not share my enthusiasm and of such I will do my best only to express it on blogs and keep it to myself when we meet. But know that I will be delighted to see you and eager to again attempt the "perfect" semester.

T.O.T.D: When In Rome, Be Sure To Tell Them You're Dominican!!!

From Whence I Came........Post 3

Kanye said it in his hit song 'Touch the Sky' and no sooner had I stepped off the plane as I had resounded it, "Feels Good To Be Home!" And indeed it does. With my travels concluded, having reached my intended final destination, my mood has changed from one of anticipation and expectation to one of focus. The single focus, as of now, is to drive the summer in the way I think it should go to turn expectations into reality. But the final leg of my journey wasn’t short of some drama.

The flight out of Tortola left on time at 7am Sunday 24th of May. Without me! You see what had happened was, I’d left my passport and ticket information on the coffee table while I brushed my teeth and since mom had already started the car by the time i was done, in my haste to bolt out the door I had failed to remember or notice where the passport was or that it wasn’t on my person.

The drive to the airport was about 30 minutes, just cruising, ‘cause we were making good time. And as is usual for me and mom we talked about everything but failed to mention anything that would have triggered the word or the thought ‘passport’. We didn’t notice the grave oversight until we pulled up to the unloading zone and it struck me that I had forgotten it, and I remembered exactly where I had put it! So as mom sped off to retrieve it, I took the place in the line that I would not relinquish for an hour, sitting on one of my bags and staring across the check-in area at the huge clock, watching each painful second slip away and realizing that I wasn’t gonna make the flight. That was 6am.

Mom returned promptly at 7 as the plane roared into the air just overhead. So the only other option was to have the attendant at the counter reserve me a seat on the 1 pm flight, which meant check-in was at 10am. It was 7! But mom was adamant that she wouldn’t take me back home, so for most of the next three hours we just waited and ate and watched planes leave and waited some more. We did happen to meet two Dominican people though, which was kinda nice. I must pause a second to note that it seems that everyone I’ve met on this trip has met someone that I had previously met or knew someone who knew me. Dare I say, therein lies the true joy in ‘small island’ Caribbean travel!

The flight that I got on took me on a tour of the leeward islands...lol. First, a brief stop off in St. Maarten, where I’d been only a week and a half earlier, then to St. Kitts, flying past the island of Stacia and circling the airport and the town of Basseterre a few times. Thankfully the wait in Antigua, when we finally got there, was quite brief and I met two of my cousins who work at customs there.

When i finally saw the Dominican coastline, flying from Antigua, the rush of blood to the head was almost too much for me to take. My heart leaped with excitement and though most of the other passengers didn’t quite seem as elated as I was, my face could do little to hide the anxiety. Strangely, I reacted just the way I thought I would have at seeing Dominica again, even though I initially thought that after the long day I’d had in expectation of the moment I’d just be relieved it was over. So I got to Dominica at 5pm instead of at 10:30 am, as I had been expected to.

My first week here has been incredible and the hugs and kisses have flowed like streams, overflowing their banks. I’ve met family and re-acquainted myself with friends, some of whom I haven’t seen for over five years. I’m brimming with joy and I can barely contain it. Feels good to be home, you know what, scratch that, feels GREAT to be HOME!!!

From Whence I Came.....Post 2

This summer for me will either be the best summer ever, or terribly disappointing. There was no build up to my summer! It was on a whim that I asked to be let out of my summer academic obligations and by the seat of my pants that this entire elaborate journey home was carved out of schedules and countries; and all on a budget. But it was that same element of spontaneity that now has left me expecting so much. I have been to three countries so far and with each stop, the excitement grows.

I feel like a bit of a bum because I've been here a week and a half and have only mustered up one blog entry so far. This is compounded by the fact that the country is beautiful, the people are very courteous and I have been reminded on countless occasions of just how splendid island life has always been. Add to the the view from my perch, high in the hills and I'm a quad-bum...

Out the windows I have borne witness to magnificent views, looking across the marble sea, on which sailboats, yachts, speedboats and ferries zip past every couple of minutes headed for the U.S.V.I or one of the other small islands and islets that make up this country. And that fresh sea breeze. I can't quite get enough of the sea breeze. A stark alternative to my coop, nestled, or should I say buried, in the cool hills of Manchester obscuring any possibility of a view!

I have also re-discovered what it feels like to be "home" at church. The metropolitan churches that I have gotten used to with their excellent musicians and choirs, fail to provide and pale in comparison to a good-old, comfortable, familiar Sabbath day's fellowship! This has further afforded me a foretaste of home. And I can't wait. I leave for home in the morning and I doubt that tonight's rest will be the least bit satisfying. I also face what may turn out to be the longest hour of my life; my wait in-transit in Antigua, with the anticipation of home burning the tip of my tongue!

So here I go, another long summer to explore. Untold possibilities await me, or none at all; And I can't wait to find out which!!!

From Whence I Came.....Post 1

So I finally left Mandeville. I can't say it hasn't been absolutely torturous being there every single day of the two years since I've been home. So this could not have come at a better time! I am at the peak of my annoyance with everything that my life has now come to mean and represent. My days are now a series of endless ones and like a soap opera, they blend seamlessly into each other as I repeat the same activities in a sort of drone-like fashion that makes life as I used to know it seem so interesting compared to now. I feel like I have lost all that once made me who I was and I'm not sure that I'm too happy with what I have become! So what better way to refresh and refocus that to return to whence it all began, back to square one and try and retrace my steps, taking careful note of where I missed "that right turn at Albuquerque".

Tonight, I'm writing from Tortola and in these unfamiliar surroundings my heart already feels free, unleashed and ready to explore the possibilities that come with being on vacation. I don't expect much of a "vacation" though; I'll be out of here in a week and a half and then it'll be all work, till August. Much of my new material will be drawn from the thrill of a new focus, not just in my life, but a shift from the daily routine to something else....and I think I'm at the point where anything will do!!!

I Was Thinking....

Life is oft compared to a journey, a seemingly lemming-like march towards the an inevitable end. And the ultimate goal of life has been framed as happiness, forcing us, or at least most of us, to relentlessly pursue it. In our pursuit, we attempt to ignore life the way it may actually be. Instead of a state of constant motion, consider life as a perpetual state of standing still. We can only be in one moment at a time; the present. This minuscule measurement of time is always at the intersection of the past and the future; smack dab in the middle of what has been and what will be. Maybe it is not us that move through life, but life that moves around us. Maybe all we can do is turn in this or that direction and allow life to carry us.

We live each moment in cognizance of the fact that we cannot change the past. Ironically, we are forced to recall, with each passing second, what has gone on before the time that we are now living in. Whether we look to the past for a vision of tomorrow's possibilities, or we stare back with nostalgic intent, one thought eventually slams against our frontal lobe. We come face to face with the reality that we cannot and will never be able to change it. We must then wonder, what purpose is there in regret? It seems good for little more than wastage of the few precious years granted to us by reason of strength.

All of our power lies in the potential of our futures. The things that we can do and that we have yet to do, should be where our eyes are affixed as life happens. The future will become the present whether we influence it or not and whether we are here or not. The untapped, infinite potential that will be granted us with tomorrow's rising sun is a priceless gem that we are entrusted with affecting. The onus is on us, as time moves towards us, to take charge of our and its direction.

T.O.T.D: "Man is the only animal that blushes-or needs to!"---Mark Twain

Muse Wanted!!!

Applications are invited from suitably qualified persons to fill the following position.

Position Title: Muse

Age: Any applicant born after 1990-91 will be ineligible.

Gender: There is no need to be politically correct. Therefore, all applicants must be female. All other applicants will be shot on sight.

Education: Although education is not a direct requirement, a medium to high level of reasoning skills are necessary as there will be some element of debate in the position. Applicants must be inspired and inspiring persons with the ability to evoke deep thought from employer.

Experience: There is no experience requirement necessary as there will be adequate initial position training. However, any previous experience or competency that can be transferred will be a boost to acceptance probability.

Skills: Applicants must be good with their hands but must also be willing to use their head. Any applicant must be cunning linguist (or cunnilinguist...lol). Applicants must also be trainable and open to learning new techniques and methods of carrying out age-old, traditional activities. The position requires a decidedly high level of flexibility. Regular working hours may not be adequate to complete all tasks and directives.

Language and Communication: Applicants must possess excellent reading and literacy skills and must have an interest in literature.

Please forward all applications or requests for further information to superdupes21@gmail.com or contact me on facebook. Any additional information will be appended to this blog post.

Of My Daddy...

He, gave himself freely to the idea of marriage and family
When I was known to exist. And on rare occasions his eyes
Tell of his storied past and how different his life now is
From what he had imagined it being.
As his eyes refocus, Removing from his trance,
A glimmer of hope shines from his soul.
His eyes meet mine and he begins to ramble on about me being his heir
And I cannot sit still. They burn into me like sunlight through
Ice cubes and I melt into his hands, Taking careful note
Of his wise saws, praying that I will one day be as wise as he.

He, is the reason I'm watching every time the Windies lose!
Each time they don their whites and proceed to soil a history
Of years of cricketing dominance with lack luster fielding
And mediocre batting efforts, I can't miss a ball!
I watch with eager anticipation of the day they'll turn it around,
And I only do this because it was one of the few things
That we did together.

He, taught me how to respect the ground; the earth;
How to till and plough and weed and prepare for sowing.
He taught me how to plant tomato plants,
Far enough apart so that they don't inter-twine and how to
Prop them up with sticks so that their trunks wouldn't break
As the fruits become too heavy for them to carry on their own.
And although I got upset every Sunday morning in that garden,
I have learned, because of him, how to survive.

He, taught me, by his example, how to truly love a woman,
When he allowed my mother to follow her life-long dream, at 35!
And I never understood it then; I came to resent him for it,
Till I realized the dedication and boldness it took.
This quiet, unassuming man is a giant in my eyes!

He, once bought me a T-shirt that read,
"Anyone can be a father but it takes someone special
to be a Daddy!" I never quite knew what that meant!

-HalfCrazy

Who's Gonna Save My Soul Now-Gnarles Barkley

I wrote about this video before but I never posted it! I think it should be there for reference...and maybe even more so now than ever. It feels familiar, for some reason!

Today's Thought Of The Day: The Pen, Stabs Stronger Than A Two-Edged Sword, Is More Lethal Than A Stab Wound And Hits Harder Than Hollow Point!!!---Elias "HalfCrazy" Dupuis

Waitukubuli

Wrote this piece about my country. It's better on the page than when i recite it!!!...LOL

Waitukubuli, "Tall is her body"!
She seems a strong woman standing stately
Facing west; Looking to the past for a vision of her future.
Drawing from the sun's last rays as they dim and dip in the distance,
The hope of tomorrow's untapped potential.
An independent woman, broad waist-ed and fertile,
Fat and fabulous; having borne much fruit of her womb.

She commands wonder as the world takes notice of her grandeur,
Her hidden gems and precious wonders buried between rolling hills,
In the shadows of mountains, in wooded dells and glens.
Sheer amazement lurks in every nook, cranny and crevice.
Waterfalls that descend from steepling heights,
Appear as falling crystals do, beads of glass that curtain the bare rock faces beneath.

She is an eco-paradise, teeming with life.
Her lush, serene forests remain untouched and unspoiled.
Bright, yellow sunshine kisses her face each day and her seemingly
Innumerable springs are well watered; giving life to 365 rivers.
Her children eat from her pot of flora and fauna,
Seasoned with an array the region's most exquisite spices.
They stay happy, for she feeds them well; And those who bite her hand,
She swiftly punishes.

She was lucky enough to have been placed in the middle
Of a melting-pot of live culture; sandwiched between islands
That share her passions and languages.
A cauldron of blended colors, sounds and lifestyles.
She is home of the last remaining indigenous Kalinago people,
Who remain a symbol of her will to persevere amid opposition.

Her scars and wrinkles have afforded her a wisdom well beyond her 30 years.
For in them lie tales of wars waged in her waters and on her shores.
Her true beauty lies in the green,
Having replaced the red; The blood that was shed over her loyalties.
Her resolve is steadfast and though storms come each year,
She is never shaken. The proof is in her story!


-HalfCrazy
© Elias O. Dupuis

The Anti-Herbie...

We have all borne witness to Herbie's swift sweep across our campus, whether as victims or "conscientious" observers. Almost just as swiftly and with about as much efficiency and effectiveness, the Anti-Herbie, a bug doing the exact opposite had grabbed hold on the campus and may have only just recently let go. While Herbie's doing pulled couples together as the breezes stiffened and the cold came down, the Anti-Herbie has demagnetized these individuals allowing them once again to return to their original states. A flood of facebook status changes prompted innumerable comments keeping us busy for days on end; seemed like each day another couple fell prey to the bug.


It took me some time to decide to write this, mostly because I myself fell prey to both Herbie and his counterpart. And it should come as no surprise; I've always been a sickly person and I catch the flu almost every time it goes around. The other reason is although I saw the second bug coming from a ways off, it brought to the surface a certain bitterness and cynicism in me that I had to get rid off before i could objectively scrutinize and analyze these occurrences, thus I have reserved my sole bitter statement for my T.O.T.D...lol.

The Anti-Herbie, didn't do much to quell my earlier allegations that the issue had been mostly thermal. In fact, it all but affirmed my rationale. Maybe it was still winter by the calender, but it had begin to warm up here and as soon as it did the bug reared its head. It sorta seems that both bugs survive best in temperatures that are just a little warmer than winter weather, but not quite summer weather, making the fall and spring ideal for their attacks.

I find it a noteworthy fact that the Anti-Herbie first found the strength to attack the couples who were the more solid and secure in their relationships. But that could have been a ploy by the bug to erode the confidence of the fresher pairings. If it was it seemed to work like a charm.
Also keep in mind that while the reasons may not be quite as important as the fact of what actually happened, there's no denying the similarities; almost makes the conspiracy theorist in me shout, "Hanging Chad"!...LOL*.

These events happened and like Charlie Wilson said,"They were beautiful and they changed the world," well at least the campus! I had fun living it, I had fun watching it unfold and most fun of all thinking and writing about it and laughing my butt off. Life is full of ironies and they serve to preserve our sense of humor; that's one of the lessons I've learned. Hope you learned something too, whether watching, living or reading!...LOL

*Refer to George W. and the 2000 Florida election

Today's T.O.T.D: All bubbles are beautiful, naturally occurring wonders....and then they burst!

Herbie...

I just wanted to post this as a prequel to my next post, The Anti-Herbie....

It has come to my attention that there's been a bug going around, a love bug. Let's call it Herbie. It seems that relationships and pairings are spring up all over the place and it seems like every one has been infected with this "Jonas Brothers-type" ailment... You know, their song:

"Now I'm speechless, over the edge
I'm just breathless
I never thought that I'd catch this love bug again
Hopeless, head over heels in the moment
I never thought that I'd get hit by this love bug again."

Now I'm not one to jump to conclusions about things, well I am, but i didn't about this particular thing. However, in the stillness of 2009's first Sabbath morning, I lay awake in bed and considered it all. I noted that there's a very real possibility that the beginning of relationships are seasonal. Stay with me now, I'm not saying that your thing isn't real, I'm just saying there might be a reason you're doing this now and not three months ago!

I think that in the summer, everyone seeks to be free, single and disengaged, and there's a logical explanation. Summer is a time for flings and "summer love", especially if you get to travel to a different country. Because you know that there must be someone you will meet over the summer who you will fancy and although you know that it must conclude when school begins again and the air begins to chill, it's always worth the time and the fond memories last a lifetime.

The summer is also when girls go to the beach to show off their "summer" bodies. And which guy can think of a better way to spend a day than hanging with chicks we've never seen before in skimpy bikinis? No one want's to be the guy or the girl who can't have some fun at a beach day, 'cause they're "happily committed"...lol!!!

Big movies always come out in the summer, providing the perfect opportunity to take-out that girl you just met, or to be taken out. It provides you some perfect make-out opportunities, after which u can take a stroll in the mid-summer night air, having spent all your gas money taking this girl to the movies!

So if summer is the time for flings, winter would be...the time for real loving!?

Winter is cold and who knows, but this epidemic could be a simple thermal issue!? There is a distinct possibility that we finally work up the nerve to go hang with that girl or guy we always liked simply because we feel the cold coming on. I think that's why fall semesters bare the most relationships. It may be a case of seeking to make "body heat, when bodies meet!"

Fall brings Thanksgiving and a few short weeks later, as the real chill takes effect, Christmas. With all those happy feelings floating around, each of us is bound to get some of it on us! So it doesn't surprise me that we run into the arms of the one we'd most like to hug and be with because we're so happy. And if we're already in a relationship, we stay, 'cause honestly the only good reason to break up with a girl at Christmas is that she brought you home to meet her family and they're all a bunch of crazies, and that includes your girl!

Winter also brings with it the prospect of a warmer time approaching, the spring. And spring is when love really starts to bloom. Which each reopening rose bud, a new love is born and hope "springs". But to get to spring love, on must brave the harsh winter's snow and bone-chilling blizzard force winds to plant a seed, a bug, that will one day become a mature infection of LOVE.

Return of the Duppie!!!

I, hereby, return to the blog-osphere. It's been a while since I posted anything and I'm still a bit new to this whole blogging thing, but I'm here all the same! Just yesterday one of my professors suggested that I blog and I remembered that I'd set this up a few months ago. It seems a much better outlet than my university newspaper, which keeps editing my material and anyone who's written anything knows how infuriating that can be!

I hope you'll join me here when I write and feel free to leave any comment. There's no moderation on this blog but I'll ask that the comments not be too graphic.

I will try on each post to leave a Thought Of The Day (TOTD) and I promise to make it interesting and not preachy!

Today's TOTD:

Osama Bin-Laden Is Still World Hide-And-Go-Seek Champion!!!

That's all for now! Any ideas are most welcomed.