Flying High Now (or "I want" as seems to be the case)

I feel like I am at another one of those points in the story of my life where a montage needs to take place.

What I mean is this: Picture in your mind The Karate Kid (I mean the 1984 Ralph Macchio, not the 2010 Jackie Chan film, though that was an amazing film in its own right). After Daniel deals with all the Cobra Kai problems and gets things sorted out, there is a mini montage of him having protected contact with the members. Just to kind of show how the day to day went, but the big storyline things already happened. Then, after we saw all of the different mundane, yet useful tasks (such as wax on, wax off) Daniel had to go endure with Mr. Miyagi, and we have Mr. Miyagi's drunken pain sequence, and then it goes to a training montage. It shows Daniel just doing his day to day training and preparation for the fight up ahead, and ends with him getting ready to go see Ali.

I want that.

Right now, I feel like I'm in the grind. I would love for things to hit fast forward right now. I want a song to become the theme of this part of my life and sweep me from day to day and moment to moment and sunset to sunset as I work and prepare and save and store. I want the mundane elevated on the drum solo of a power ballad, spurred on by the wailing of an electric guitar.

But of course, I want things to slow down on my schedule. I want to have those moments with my female lead be on film and be memorable. Time can slow down for those. I want our love to purple the hearts of those around. I want to kiss her underneath fireworks, in front of waterfalls, on a retaining wall of the Pacific during high tide. I want moonbeams to illuminate her eyes like God's stage lighting. I want to tell her I love her, and will be there for her as the sun splashes the sky with rose and crimson. I want to hold her hands in mine with holy palmer's kiss, our hands doing as our lips. I want Bryan Adams or Peter Cetera to play on the radio as we careen down Del Dios Highway. I want to smell her hair as my chin rests upon her head and my arms envelop her like a gypsy breeze on an October day.

I think overall I crave a sense of knowing that where I'm heading will work out. I'm working three jobs and trying to write. I want to write. The jobs are a means to an end. I want my written words to be my deeds. Why should I have to pick which is better? I want to help my brothers succeed.

I want the montage to kick in and take me to the All Valley Karate Tournament on the day of the fight. I want to crane kick the barriers in my way. I want to be published.

Mission/78

I submitted this poem as one in a set to the San Diego County Poetry Annual 2010-11. Who knows what'll happen.

Mission/78

I fell in love with the girl in the rear view mirror
as I drove home from school today.
She wore unassuming white sunglasses
and followed behind me most of the way.

I glanced back again and again
her brown hair crinkled about her head.
She could have sped and passed around me
but remained behind me instead.

Eventually we parted ways
I went east and she went south.
As she passed she turned and gazed
with an upturned nose and smirking mouth.