Music & Writing in Ottawa, IL

I had an excellent time at Jeremiah Joe’s Friday night. I did my whole acoustic set list live. I’d never done a solo performance before. It was invigorating.

There’s nothing quite like being on stage, observed by several different people, sweating beneath stage lights, hearing your voice and your guitar echo across the ambient room. I’m planning on playing at Open Mic Night at Tracy’s Rowhouse in Ottawa, Illinois on Wednesday night at 8. Instead of a set I’ll probably on do a few songs, but it’ll still be fun. You have to do free gigs before you work your way up to paying ones too, so this is good for my resume.

I played on Saturday around Washington Park in Ottawa, accepting donations from passersby. You don’t make much doing that, but it’s better than just playing around my house for nothing and no one. It’s a thrill entertaining people. It’s a thrill communicating a message to another through song and writing. Being unemployed, my music and my books are all I have to go on at the moment. Luckily, I’m still with the parents so I don’t have to worry about getting evicted, unless things turns sour in the economy again. Who knows, maybe everyone could wind up in the street then? At least I’d have a guitar so I could play for dollars so that I can eat off the dollar menu at Taco Bell.

My newest creation, Introspect & Empathy is finished and on sale from the Book Patch. Hopefully I can get it in the local book store soon too.

To the Dark Ones among Us (Poem)

To the Dark Ones Among Us by J.L. Pendall (from the upcoming book)

What drives men to become monsters?
And can some monsters become men?
There is a force that can transform you
You’ll hardly even notice
That you’ve become something different
Is it that you can’t feel anyone else?
So insecure that you need to dominate
Just to feel fulfilled?

Does anguish fascinate you
Because you can’t feel the agony?
Are you lonely locked away in yourself?
Or merely despise those who’ve wronged you

Are you afraid of how others may see you?
Are you a caged mind thrashing against iron bars?
There is a part of you that feels imprisoned

It despises the monster that you’ve become
It is the innocent infant that you once were
Still crying in the crib

Just remember at one time you were helpless
And you’re helpless in the struggle against time

 

In Light of Certain Madness, now only $4.00 for a 6 x 9 65 page paperback. Or you can download a preview for free at https://docs.google.com/viewer?a=v&pid=explorer&chrome=true&srcid=0B5L3jdxSenSDYmI0MWMyZGQtNTkyNS00MGQ4LTllNjUtZmU4YzIxODRmNDhl&hl=en_US

Poems from the collection “The Industry”

Prisoners

In a world washed in gray
The drones make their way
Down all the familiar paths
That they walk everyday

Towering over identical houses
A machine toils belching out ashes
The machine has taken everyone’s eyes
Barcodes rest on the lids like bruises

Emotionless and cold
Are the machine and its slaves

None have ever been saved
From the world washed in gray

 

My Memoir (Poem from next book)

Poem from the upcoming book Introspect & Empathy by J.L. Pendall, which is me.

My Memoir

Routines, routines
All throughout our days
No wonder, no wonder
No wonder we’re insane

Life is always
Too much of this
And not enough of that
Where is the balance?

It’s like living on a pendulum
Powerless to fight the motion
Powerless against my emotions

I don’t even know how I feel
I don’t even know what’s real

I’m so used to hearing my thoughts
That I forget others can’t
If they could would they even
Recognize this man?

Routines, routines
If you let them they’ll replace you
When you’re caught up
It’s easy to forget you

This poem was about, of course, routines and monotony and how they drive us all insane in one way or another. Just take a step back from yourself now and then and analyze the shape of things. If you’re unhappy, is it because the routines you’re in are making you unhappy? Maybe a change would be nice. I recently quit my job by the way. Couldn’t hand it anymore. Now I’m doing this.

Who Are You? (poem)

Why does my ease feel ill?
It’s not the words you’re saying
But the ones you choose to swallow

I’m always wondering what you’re thinking
And I’m always thinking about how I’m feeling
I get so close to the picture that my vision begins to blur
I get confused and I lose my nerve

Sometimes I speak in a clear and melodic voice
But when I’m with you I feel like I’m a boy
I stutter and stammer and forget the point
I assure myself that I’ll only disappoint

So why does my ease feel ill?
There’s hole in me to fill

For this poems I was just writing about my state of mind. This poem’s in my work-in-progress “Y4?: The Poetry of Introspect & Empathy. My first book has just been published. A 63 page paperback called In Light of Certain Madness Can be found below.

My time at Wal-Mart

Five years. Five years and I resigned on my anniversary. Sometimes it seems that everything I do I do for a laugh. Like I’m some elaborate prankster who’s even now scheming up his next punchline.

When I started at Wal-Mart, I was on the setup crew. I saw it all come together from a gigantic nearly empty building into one of the biggest Super Centers in the midwest.

The store opened in August of 2006. I became a “maintenance associate” on overnights. I did that for over four years. I loved the employees on overnights. There’s a profound difference in personalities compared to the fellow “Daywalkers.” It’s like, well night and day really. The night shift attracts interesting people. And the usually scattered and subdued customers give space for employees to communicate with each other.

I met some amazing people during my time on nights. Some of them have changed my life. In an environment like that, the people you work with can become almost like family.

The pay wasn’t bad either. Wal-Mart pays everyone according to their job position and they’re setup in grades. Overnight maintenance is on grade two and I got the night premium.

I just couldn’t handle the schedule. It was impossible for me to get to sleep when I got home at seven in the morning. The  minute the sun came up I’d be wide awake when I was completely exhausted a few hours before. I’d stay up until two or three in the afternoon, get up at eight p.m. and then do it all over again. Also, things in my personal life began taking an interesting and disturbing turn. If you’re a person that gets caught up in your thoughts, nights isn’t for you. It’s easy to think in the night. Everything is quiet and still. When the mental subject matter is distressful, the night is a curse.

In September of 2010 I went on leave for a month. When I returned to work in October, I was a Daywalker.

The store is so different in daylight. There are customers everywhere, which at first annoyed me but then I adjusted to them. You have to look at them all as individuals. If you just see the herd of cattle that they are then it’s easy to despise them.

The employees are very different during the day. There isn’t as much time or silence to communicate so the bonds between each other are fragile. Nevertheless, I came across a few people who I really enjoyed being around and talking with. There’s a cart pusher that I always BS’d with on my lunch and breaks. He always made me laugh. I never met anyone that swore so much on clock and in front of customers and yet he still just kept working there.

Most of my fellow maintenance workers are good people as well. I love people. I love hearing about their lives, getting to know them and what drives them. To a writer, each person is novel. A well of information and inspiration. I’ve taken something from everyone I’ve met because everyone has something to offer.

I worked my ass off on days. I was the youngest maintenance associate there and fresh off of leave I had the drive to achieve. Everyday I walked without stopping it seemed trying my best to get that shipwreck of a store clean and usually I did.

Then things started going downhill. That entire place is a broken machine. They are short-handed and yet they say that they’re overstaffed. Three months a year they cut everyone’s hours. My pay went down drastically when I went to days. I lost the night premium and Day Maintenance is on grade one instead of two and frankly I’m not sure why.

Not to mention the perpetual state of idiocy that seems to invade that store. If you made bail in the backroom then you have to try to maneuver it around pallets that are sticking much to far out into the aisles. One day, I had to take something outside to the dumpster. No one had the key for the backdoor. After about a half an hour it was unlocked and then I discovered that there were two padlocks on the dumpster and once again… no one had the key for them.

Both compactor keys were out of commission, one being broken and the other lost, so garbage was spilling everywhere. Not to mention customers that for some reason or another can’t seem to treat public restrooms with decency. I’ve seen some terrible and traumatizing things my time as a janitor. Things that defy logic.

As the storm began to build within me, I saw a glimpse of my future. The goal was to get an apartment and get out of my parents’ house. Then I thought, “Okay, what if I get an apartment in October. Then February comes and they start cutting our hours again. How am I supposed to pay the bills?” I went down from 32 hours a week to 20 and 25. Top that off with making only 9 something and hour and you’ll find that you can’t live off of that. How could I plan a future working at a place that’s unreliable?

So I put in my two weeks notice. After consideration I thought about talking to the store manager and taking it back as long as he made some changes. Then I walked into the backroom and saw that garbage travesty by the  compactor and decided that I couldn’t do it anymore. Plus, it was my five-year anniversary. How often am I gonna be able to say that I quit on my anniversary? So I did.

But it turns out Wal-Mart still isn’t done with me. I went in the day after I resigned so that management could “gain” me out of the system. The paperwork didn’t go through. Now, three days later it still hasn’t gone through. I found this out after I waited on hold for ten minutes while all the managers were playing hacky sack with each other or whatever it is they do in the office. This reinforced my decision. What a circus! So now I’m waiting patiently for them to call me back to tell me that I’m free.

 

The First Time I Met My Father

On Saturday I met my birth father for the first time in twenty years. He and my mom divorced when I didn’t even have a fully functioning memory yet and my recollections of our weekend visits are few and far.

My mom found another man after a few  years and he became my dad. Even with him in my life, a feeling of abandonment followed me throughout the years. I thought that he just left the state; vanished into thin air. I wondered at times if I had any brothers and sisters. I wondered at times if he was even still alive.

The relationship between my mother and father was tumultuous. That’s all I care to express about it on here. The details filled me with rage against my birth father and it served to reinforce my already negative image of humanity…and of myself.

In my first few years of school, I had no father figure. I was already socially awkward because of my poor vision (kids used to think I was mentally handicapped because it’s hard for me to learn by sight) and no one was there to tell me about girls. Could be why even through high school I was terrified of them, bringing me to my current state of singleness and virginity. At least movies like Super Bad and Adventureland make me feel a little less alone. Perhaps there are a lot more guys like me out there than I thought were.

Just after high school, I found my father’s side of the family online. Turns out I have three half-siblings. I learned that my father was living in Alabama. Still afraid and spiteful towards the past I was distant in communication with them, afraid of where things would go.

A few weeks ago, out of the blue I got a text message from him. He was about to go on a road trip and he said that he wanted to see me if I was willing. I’m older and less angry now then I was, so I agreed.

We met outside of my job. I didn’t recognize him at first even though we locked eyes. Walking away I heard his wife call my name, “Johnathon!” and I turned around and I embraced my biological father for the first time in my memory, though I know we’d embraced before.

I grew more and more afraid through the days leading up to our meeting. I was relieved to find out that he felt the same.

We brought our gathering to the local bar and filled in some lost time. He was nothing like I thought he’d be. A bit more adventurous and spontaneous than I am but still a great guy. He told me that he’d been looking for me for years.

We agreed that we’d meet again in the near future and I have dreams of going to Alabama to meet my brothers and sisters.

For the first time in my life, I feel like a part of me that’s been thirsty for years has finally been satisfied. I feel like my obscure past has been clarified and for once, I’m looking forward to the future. No matter how uncertain.

… Awhile by Johnathon Pendall

BEFORE

The days have been many, the days have been long
Since I have seen you my father
Since I have known you my father

I always wondered, who and where you were
Who are you my father?
Why am I my father?

You’ve been farther from me than orbiting spheres
Our paths have been different and different they’ll be
There’s a chance they’ll be nearer, but they’ll never be one
For there’s already a father for this son

I wonder how the moment will be
When the silence settles and we peer within
And the past rises from the dead

Our hands we’ll clutch and an awaited embrace
We smile as the dead bury themselves
And the living are left to fall or flourish

AFTER

The reunion was beautiful, stagnant water distilled
I could feel the bond of blood burning within
I felt as if your eyes were my own
Though a different shade with a different tone

Our differences are clear but complimentary
I like to explore but not to adventure
I am quiet and thoughtful
Until there’s need to speak

It’s good to know you were terrified
For I was terrified too
I felt like I was dying
The week before we met

Now that we have, I feel alive
More secure in myself than I’ve ever been
For once the future, it is not looming
For once tomorrow seems welcoming

I’m looking forward to meeting again
Uncovering mysteries elusive
And to know the siblings that have been lost to me
I feel I have risen from the jaws of misery

I spoke in haste when I spoke last
It’s true that I can never call you, “dad”
But fear not my father, for in the following days
I will find for you a name

Hellinois, how I loathe you

Why do I live in Hellinois, sorry, Illinois? Because I was born here. How many of us our imprisoned in locations because there isn’t enough money to break the chains the tie us? I’m sure the number is staggering.

So why do I want to leave this state? Is it the high prices of things? The corrupt politicians we elect over and over again? The crime rate? The underfunded and suffering education system? These are all good reasons to leave, but honestly I could deal with those problems if there was favorable weather and stunning scenery to look at.

I’m a poet and musician and I constantly seek new sources for inspiration. The landscape here is agonizingly uninspiring. Sure, you can see forever because of how flat it is, but what is there to see? Endless fields with standing water from the seasonal downpours.

And the weather, ha! 75% humidity. I feel like I’m swimming in liquid smog when I step outside. There are no real beaches around, so the humidity is not a fair compromise.

They say Chicago is the “windy city” they don’t tell you that the whole damn state is like that. When we have a breezeless day I almost feel like something’s wrong. Like some massive form is blocking the wind, preparing to pounce down upon us suddenly.

The summers are hot and humid and our winters are wet, cold and windy. I can handle snow but those gusts feel like they’re trying to skin you alive.

I know this post has been a complete bitch fest, but due to the weather my head is constantly aching, my nose feels like it’s filled with water and every joint on my deteriorating body is on fire. It’s like I’m 30 years older than my actual age. So, I’ll try to end this blog in an artistic, expressive way…

Hellinois
When I leave you
I’ll take the best of you with me

Hellinois
When I leave you
I’ll leave the reality behind

Because Hellinois,
When I leave you
I have to learn to leave the state-of-mind

Maybe someday I’ll make my way to Boulder.

Things I’ve Done Today

Days off are strange when you’re used to working. Especially in Harding, Illinois which has a population of about seventy or so and is fifteen miles from the nearest place worth being.

But I try my best. I read a lot. I just finished Footfall by Larry Niven and Jerry Pournelle. It was a decent book. These elephant like aliens from Alpha Centauri called the Fithp invade earth, dropping meteors on us and destroying most of our dams, military bases, airfields and what not. I thought the ending was terrible though. It doesn’t embellish enough and it’s not one of those “make your own ending” books where it can go either way. It just sucked. It seemed like the authors reached the word count they wanted so they just loosely finished it off.

Now I’m starting on Dean Koontz’s The Dead Town, the latest installment in this Frankenstein saga. I’ve loved all them so far. I just started reading it yesterday and I’ve already made it to page 80 something. I know that I won’t be disappointed.

I watched the Family Guy episode that parodies Return of the Jedi a few hours ago. It’s okay. 3 out of 5 stars. Blue Harvest was still the best and I’ve gotta say I really didn’t enjoy Something…Something….Something…Dark Side at all.

I think I might go back outside and try to meditate again. My neighbor should be done mowing his lawn by now. I think he’s already mowed it twice this week. Do you have a neighbor like that? Is it that they’re concerned about the length of the grass or are they just so bored and unhappy with their lives that they can’t think of anything else to do but ride around in circles like they symbolically do every day of their lives? Seriously, contemplate the nature of reality or something. Oh, yeah and he uses a rider lawn mower. His lawn is so small that using that has to be more of a hinderance than anything else.