Starting

By Shane Robitaille

Right after your feet leave the ground

And just before you plunge into the deep,

You start second-guessing yourself,

Wondering if it was such a good idea after all,

Suddenly unsure of everything you’ve ever known.

But all of this thinking only lasts a moment

Because you’ve broken through the glassy surface

And are now plummeting feet first

Into the depths of a strange new world.

As you sink faster and faster into the unknown

Your mind starts racing and you feel like you’re

On the verge of a heart attack, as you struggle,

Gasping for breath, every sense on high alert,

Reaching out for anything you can grab ahold of,

And the light from the world you left behind gets

Smaller and smaller, fades away and disappears.

When you finally hit the bottom with a thud,

You collapse, exhausted, unable to move.

Soon you summon all of your energy, and,

With shaky legs, stand up and look around.

You feel like you’re breathing for the first time.

Your senses spring to life like an escaping wild animal.

You can see clearly, forever and ever.

You can smell the world around you.

You can feel everything like it is all brand new.

You start running, climb to the top of the world,

And decide to wake everybody up with a

Primal scream that starts low and then rattles

The atmosphere like a Motley Crue concert.

As a smile comes over your face.

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poetry poem adventure carpediem

Yellow Sun
By Shane Robitaille
It’s time to start living fast
like some Hollywood stars. Who cares about the past? This day is ours. We’ll follow the yellow sun. In my old ragtop we’ll roll. Coming home just as soon as we find our lost souls. We’ll make some mistakes but they’ll be no forgiving. And my love, we will see what it’s like to be living.

Yellow Sun

By Shane Robitaille

It’s time to start living fast

like some Hollywood stars.
Who cares about the past?
This day is ours.
We’ll follow the yellow sun.
In my old ragtop we’ll roll.
Coming home just as soon
as we find our lost souls.
We’ll make some mistakes
but they’ll be no forgiving.
And my love, we will see
what it’s like to be living.

poetry writing

Thanks for Everything
This one is for the old,for the sickly who fight,for the day-dreamerswho keep wishing,to those without sight,to the ones who triedand gave up too soon,to the ones who soaredand walked on the moon,to the artists and poetswho make sense of it all,to the ones who protectus and always stand tall,to the rebels who rebel,to the athletes who excel,to the moms and the dadswho make their kids proud,to the freaks in the band who make the world loud,to the ones who lead the way,to the heartbroken in cafes,to those who make us smile,to friends we haven’t seen in awhile.Thanks for everything.

Poem by Shane Robitaille
Photograph of the Beastie Boys, back in the day

Thanks for Everything

This one is for the old,
for the sickly who fight,
for the day-dreamers
who keep wishing,
to those without sight,
to the ones who tried
and gave up too soon,
to the ones who soared
and walked on the moon,
to the artists and poets
who make sense of it all,
to the ones who protect
us and always stand tall,
to the rebels who rebel,
to the athletes who excel,
to the moms and the dads
who make their kids proud,
to the freaks in the band 
who make the world loud,
to the ones who lead the way,
to the heartbroken in cafes,
to those who make us smile,
to friends we haven’t seen in awhile.
Thanks for everything.

Poem by Shane Robitaille

Photograph of the Beastie Boys, back in the day

poetry poem beastieboys writing creativewriting

A Cycling Life
By Shane Robitaille
the windthe speedthe rushthe needthe adventurethe playthe downhillsthe waythe momentumthe uphillsthe motionthe thrillsthe landscapethe chasethe sweatthe racethe freedomthe boldthe way to stay gold

A Cycling Life

By Shane Robitaille

the wind
the speed
the rush
the need
the adventure
the play
the downhills
the way
the momentum
the uphills
the motion
the thrills
the landscape
the chase
the sweat
the race
the freedom
the bold
the way 
to stay gold

cycling bike cycle staygold ET poetry

"A great idea is great when it gives you a thrill to your soul."
- David Lynch
I am not criticizing the Emmy Awards show. I appreciate why so many people love the event, with the glitz, glamour and bigger than life personalities. It’s definitely exciting, for sure. But, how great would it be if we had a similar show to honor people who have actually DONE amazing things, not PRETENDED to do amazing things?
I’m talking about a show for cops, fire fighters, EMTs and military heroes who put it all on the line every day. Can you imagine? Instead of stopping on the red carpet and showing off their fancy dresses or suits in front of the cameras, the EMTs could stop and hold up signs, showing how many people’s lives they’ve saved.

While we’re at it, we could have an awards show for our best teachers. Or, how about a show honoring new business owners who followed their dreams, started a business and provide employment for others? Or, what about honoring community volunteers who work hard everyday making our communities stronger and rarely get recognized for it?
Or, just for fun, there could be an award show honoring the most kick-a** Starbucks baristas, the ones who put the most smiles on customers’ faces before noon each day.
The Emmys are great but I think it’s time we started celebrating and making a really big fuss over people that make a positive impact and difference in our real lives. Just saying. 

I am not criticizing the Emmy Awards show. I appreciate why so many people love the event, with the glitz, glamour and bigger than life personalities. It’s definitely exciting, for sure. But, how great would it be if we had a similar show to honor people who have actually DONE amazing things, not PRETENDED to do amazing things?

I’m talking about a show for cops, fire fighters, EMTs and military heroes who put it all on the line every day. Can you imagine? Instead of stopping on the red carpet and showing off their fancy dresses or suits in front of the cameras, the EMTs could stop and hold up signs, showing how many people’s lives they’ve saved.

While we’re at it, we could have an awards show for our best teachers. Or, how about a show honoring new business owners who followed their dreams, started a business and provide employment for others? Or, what about honoring community volunteers who work hard everyday making our communities stronger and rarely get recognized for it?

Or, just for fun, there could be an award show honoring the most kick-a** Starbucks baristas, the ones who put the most smiles on customers’ faces before noon each day.

The Emmys are great but I think it’s time we started celebrating and making a really big fuss over people that make a positive impact and difference in our real lives. Just saying. 

emmys emmy EMT heroe heroes Starbucks Bostonmarathon Boston

Lucky Day

By Shane Robitaille
On an ordinary afternoonAn old man approached me to say,"Stop for a second and listen, son;This is your lucky day.”
With Doc Martens, and a shock of white hairhe looked like an aging punk rock star.He said, “You don’t know me yet,But I know who you are.” 
“I have a few questions,” he said.“If you have a minute or two.”I wasn’t sure what to say.I didn’t know what to do.
His friendly smile left his wrinkled face.He suddenly looked stern.He reached out to shake my hand.His eyes were ablaze; his grip was firm.
“Why didn’t you go for it?” he asked.“Why weren’t you bold?Why weren’t you adventurousBefore you got too old?
Why didn’t you seek real loveIn the most unselfish way?Did you make the most, I mean the MOSTOf every single glorious day?
Why have you never taken a stand?Why didn’t you ask her to dance?Why aren’t you shooting for the moon?Why aren’t you taking a chance?
Why didn’t you forgive more?Why didn’t you find the time?Why didn’t you run the big race?Why aren’t you more kind?
Why aren’t you rocking this world?Why didn’t you sing?Why didn’t you run wild under the stars?Where are your wings?”
The old man paused and smiled.I said, “But how do you know me?”“I am you in fifty years,” he said,"And I’ve seen how things will be."
“Don’t waste your time, kid.Dream big. Live hard. Be bold.Find the good and beauty in this world,And you’ll never, ever, ever grow old.”
“I’ve got to go now,” he said.As he turned to walk away.“Don’t wait another moment,” he added,“Time is a gift. Seize the day.”

 


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Lucky Day

By Shane Robitaille

On an ordinary afternoon
An old man approached me to say,
"Stop for a second and listen, son;
This is your lucky day.”

With Doc Martens, and a shock of white hair
he looked like an aging punk rock star.
He said, “You don’t know me yet,
But I know who you are.” 

“I have a few questions,” he said.
“If you have a minute or two.”
I wasn’t sure what to say.
I didn’t know what to do.

His friendly smile left his wrinkled face.
He suddenly looked stern.
He reached out to shake my hand.
His eyes were ablaze; his grip was firm.

“Why didn’t you go for it?” he asked.
“Why weren’t you bold?
Why weren’t you adventurous
Before you got too old?

Why didn’t you seek real love
In the most unselfish way?
Did you make the most, I mean the MOST
Of every single glorious day?

Why have you never taken a stand?
Why didn’t you ask her to dance?
Why aren’t you shooting for the moon?
Why aren’t you taking a chance?

Why didn’t you forgive more?
Why didn’t you find the time?
Why didn’t you run the big race?
Why aren’t you more kind?

Why aren’t you rocking this world?
Why didn’t you sing?
Why didn’t you run wild under the stars?
Where are your wings?”

The old man paused and smiled.
I said, “But how do you know me?”
“I am you in fifty years,” he said,
"And I’ve seen how things will be."

“Don’t waste your time, kid.
Dream big. Live hard. Be bold.
Find the good and beauty in this world,
And you’ll never, ever, ever grow old.”

“I’ve got to go now,” he said.
As he turned to walk away.
“Don’t wait another moment,” he added,
“Time is a gift. Seize the day.”

 

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poetry poem docmarten docmartens inspiration seizetheday

"It’s a terrible thing, I think, in life to wait until you’re ready. I have this feeling now that actually no one is ever ready to do anything. There’s almost no such thing as ready. There’s only now. And you may as well do it now. I mean, I say that confidently as if I’m about to go bungee jumping or something - I’m not. I’m not a crazed risk taker. But I do think that, generally speaking, now is as good a time as any.” ready to do anything. There’s almost no such thing as ready. There’s only now. And you may as well do it now. I mean, I say that confidently as if I’m about to go bungee jumping or something - I’m not. I’m not a crazed risk taker. But I do think that, generally speaking, now is as good a time as any."
- Hugh Laurie

inspiration carpediem seizetheday hughlaurie

Never, Ever, Ever Say That Word
Almost said that word today.
The ugly one that gets you stuck,
Then smashes all your hopes and dreams,
Then takes your mojo and your luck.
The bully that knocks you around
And sucker punches you in the face.
The thug who breaks your windows,
Steals your smile and invades your space.
The dictator who keeps you down.
The jerk that gets in your way.
The whiney one with all the excuses,
Almost ruined my entire day.
I almost said the word “can’t.”
For just a second, I almost let it win.  
But I caught myself just in time.
Now I can get back to living.
 
Copyright Shane Robitaille
 
 
 

Photo credit

Never, Ever, Ever Say That Word

Almost said that word today.

The ugly one that gets you stuck,

Then smashes all your hopes and dreams,

Then takes your mojo and your luck.

The bully that knocks you around

And sucker punches you in the face.

The thug who breaks your windows,

Steals your smile and invades your space.

The dictator who keeps you down.

The jerk that gets in your way.

The whiney one with all the excuses,

Almost ruined my entire day.

I almost said the word “can’t.”

For just a second, I almost let it win.  

But I caught myself just in time.

Now I can get back to living.

 

Copyright Shane Robitaille

 

 

 

Photo credit

poetry poem inspiration

Dear Mr. Vernon

Dear Mr. Vernon,

We accept the fact that it’s been thirty years since we were held captive in the library for an entire day and you asked us to write an essay telling you who we think we are. 

Thirty years ago you saw us as you wanted to see us, in the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions. But what we’ve learned in the last thirty years is that we are so much more than just brains, athletes, basket cases, princesses, and criminals. We’ve learned that, when you get past the clothes and the cliques, we all have our challenges and have more in common than meets the eye.

We were never sure if our essay answered your question and, quite frankly, we don’t care. Because we’ve also learned in last three decades that there will always be ignorant jerks like you.

Sincerely yours,

Shane and a few million members of Generation X 

P.s., We don’t want to know if you still raid Barry Manilow’s wardrobe.

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