Why does MySpace say I have 23 Friends when I only have 14? I'm confused.

Love,

Simon

"VACUOUS" by Simon Beck
(inspired by a True.com video ad)



savvysue
who are you?

20-yrs-old
yet still so immature
jiggling like Jell-O
in a broken bowl

Vacuously lifting up your top
In your little video chat ad
I'm a prisoner to your emptiness
As you dance and strip for me
When I only came here
To blog

Devoid of any meaning
You leave me in a fog



Copyright © JTK.CA

SIMON BECK

That's my name. I love my one syllable, crisp, stylish last name, BECK. However, sometimes I wonder if I like my first name, SIMON. Well, I've decided I do. One reason is that the autistic child in MERCURY RISING is named Simon, and he is played by one of the most talented actors on the planet, Miko Hughes. He also played the boy in KINDERGARTEN COP that told Arnold Schwarzenegger the anatomical difference between boys and girls. Another reason I like my name Simon, I discovered last night. I played my DVD of LARA CROFT: TOMB RAIDER with Angelina Jolie, for some friends. I'd seen the movie a few times already, but just noticed my first name in the great opening scene between Lara and her robot nemesis, named SIMON, with whom she practices her fighting skills. Lara fries his motherboard in the fight, but Simon, the metallic monstrosity, is back up and running and ready to practice fighting with Lara by the end of the film. The movie is also directed by SIMON WEST. Both Simon-centric movies, MERCURY RISING and LARA CROFT: TOMB RAIDER are movies that I never get tired of watching. They are just two spectacular gems of movie-making.

Love,

Simon Beck

© JTK.CA

THE GRAVEYARD OF DREAMS



Words tumble down the slope of hopelessness--
A cacophony of concussive crashes,
Boulders of truth
Broken into stones
The further down they go,
Until "dust returns to dust"--
Not a metaphor, but a reality.

Now buried in the graveyard of dreams,
All my hopes and fears lie silently
And they lied to me for all my years
On Earth,
My place of birth
And death.

Entombed in silence,
My bones only amplify my emptiness.

When will my resurrection come?
I know it will, but when?
I have to know, I need to know, just so I can know.
But that's a secret date on God's calendar
Known only to him,
A mystery even to Jesus,
Who simply waits patiently for our Father's appointed time,
Unlike I.

Even these words will turn to nothing
And join the dust I have become.
Then someday, out of the darkness,
Oblivious to any lost time,
I will breathe my first breath...
Again...
And forevermore.



--SIMON BECK
http://myspace.com/NudistPoet

Simon's Note: I started down and slowly lifted my spirit with words, and by opening the windows to let some air in.

Ghazal (Love Song)
{Inspired by Rachel "Wildflower" Call
and by Tangerine Dream}



Are you really here or just a dream?
If the former, please never leave.
If the latter, may I never wake.



--SIMON BECK
http://myspace.com/NudistPoet

Simon's Note: This poem is inspired partially by the instrumental music, "Ghazal (Love Song)" by Tangerine Dream, the final track on their "Optical Race" album. It is NOT an attempt at the "ghazal" poetic form.



© Jonathan Tad Ketchen (JTK.CA)

Tad@NudistPoet.com

http://myspace.com/JonathanTad

http://NudistPoet.com

Guelph (pronounced "Gwelf"), Ontario, Canada, eh?

(519) 780-1057

It's time for me to write a new blog entry, and only one topic comes to mind:

"nothing"

Nothing is underrated and profound. Consider the Bible verse, "Be still and know that I am God." It's totally counterintuitive to our hectic 21st Century pace of life, but it's still a command from the Almighty.

So, I'm going to stop my philosiphizing, shut up, and simply "be still," and ponder the "nothing" with which God created "everything (including this strange philosopher)."

Scratch that.

One more thought. When God created the universe, he said, "Let there be...," and "it was." Let's pray to him that he would give us that kind of faith.

The irony is I put "apathetic" as my mood when I started typing this. God still works miracles ;-)



--SIMON BECK
http://myspace.com/NudistPoet



© Jonathan Tad Ketchen (JTK.CA)

Tad@NudistPoet.com

http://myspace.com/JonathanTad

http://NudistPoet.com

Guelph (pronounced "Gwelf"), Ontario, Canada, eh?

(519) 780-1057

My name is Simon Beck. I am a freelance writer, artist, and photographer, living in downtown Toronto. My hours are erratic. My life has no schedule. Last night was an exception. I slept through most of the dark hours. I was dreaming of Wildflower, my dreamgirl, a.k.a. Rachel Call, the owner, founder, and operator of The Nudist Revolution, Toronto's downtown nudist resort. When we first met at the resort, I was convinced our friendship was destined; and our last names being "Beck and Call" confirmed my suspicion. Anyway, back to the dream or, at least, waking up from the dream. At about 4:45 AM I was pretty much refreshed and ready to get up, yet trying to get my lazy body to obey my motivated mind. There was no chance of falling back to sleep though, because I was kept awake by a domestic disturbance.

4:45 AM to 5:50 AM

From inside my own Unit 1205, in my Apartment High Rise, the only words I could hear coming through my west wall and ceiling were:

Woman: "stop it"

Someone: "kill you"

I could also hear clunking sounds, like things falling or being thrown.

I checked outside the doors of all apartments above, below, and on either side of me, from east to west, the 07, 05, and 03 apartments on floors 11, 12, and 13.

When I stood outside the door of 1303 I heard:

Woman: "family doesn't understand"

She seemed to be saying it to another woman,

but the second time I stood outside the door of 1303 I heard a man's voice. Then, as I was at the west stairwell exit, ready to go back downstairs to my apartment, a blonde woman walked toward the door of 1303 from the thirteenth floor's east stairwell entrance. I watched her as she entered 1303. Then I went back down to my apartment, and the next time I heard fighting, I dialed 9-1-1.

Being a nudist, I had to get dressed twice this morning, for my two separate hall walks to see from where the fighting was coming.

After my second investigation, once back home in my own apartment unit, I stripped naked as usual. But after I had called 9-1-1, I decided I'd better put on short pants for a while, just in case the police come knocking later this morning.

--SIMON BECK
http://myspace.com/NudistPoet



© Jonathan Tad Ketchen (JTK.CA)

Tad@NudistPoet.com

http://myspace.com/JonathanTad

http://NudistPoet.com

Guelph (pronounced "Gwelf"), Ontario, Canada, eh?

(519) 780-1057