June 26, 2009

#85 ah camp

hemp
gimp
beads
all camp bling

sandal tans
and dirt lines

damp swimsuits
dock talks

sunscreen
and burnt ears

homesickness
followed by tears of leaving

#84 nb


they'll get me there
the 26.2
and all the miles 
between 
here and there

race day lace-up
will be 
a sanctified ceremony

they'll get me through
all weather
all obstacles
all failure

they'll get me to the starter's gun
and over a finish ribbon
discarded long before our arrival

they'll get me there

#83 beware of red

head
wine 
sign

danger

one 
turns into 
two
turns into...

brush of shoulder 
turns into
hand on thigh 
turns into...

June 25, 2009

#82 what happened?

the sieve of memory holds the good
the wish-i-were-anywhere-else's
slide through openings that grow with time
until childhood is a breeze
puberty, a dream
high school, a fairy tale

no enemies
no boring days
no wishing for freedom
no when-i'm-a-grown-up's
perhaps it's better that way

not to have to answer
to our childhood selves


#81 mountain watching

through the window
the three sisters beckon
bird of prey
headless

between proctor and the other
tooth-like in appearance
wings of stone
risen from an ocean floor
watching without eyes

June 24, 2009

#80 mum (accepted in "message in a bottle')

she had a space that was hers
eight by eight
counter
sink
fridge
stove
cupboards
her space
command centre
and if offspring entered
she'd scold or tease
(depending on patience)
out from under my heels
accurate for the first two
but by the time the sixth
intruded the zone
some had passed her in height

supper would be ready
when her man entered
lunchbox in hand
exhausted
and always something for his sweet tooth
chocolate cake
chocolate chip cookie
chocolate haystack
(yes, theme noted)

sometimes dishes right after supper
sometimes after their 6 o'clock news
teacups in hand
strong

later she'd prepare lunches
a relaxed flurry
bread and sandwich meat and snacks and fruit and wax paper and lunchbags and boxes
then
she'd find her book and her chair
and sink into both
before bedtime


June 23, 2009

#79 the cycle

i stay in the shower
re-scrubbing
re-rinsing
watching the suds swirl 
out of sight

not ready to face today
a normal day
not ready

finally
i exit into the towel
back to bed
read
eat lunch
leftovers
again
internet
tv
any invention or excuse 
supper
not hungry
crackers
the week and the weekend
are the same
evening drags
then bedtime 
and i promise 
tomorrow
tomorrow

again

#78 two seasons

meets her through friends of friends
knows she's attractive
but for weeks
denies his body's thoughts 

she is reminded of others in her life
he opposites the immature ones 
gentle
patient
drawn not by his body 
but to it
through his aura and mind

advances are slow
imperceptible
but after two seasons
winter and spring
fall together 
between bedside lamps


#77 anxiety and depression

body tightens
slouches
phone ignored
breathing
from the mouth
yesterday's clothes will do
procrastination rules
and belief in your own word
drops

withdraw
into your community
your house
your room
your body

June 22, 2009

#76 this we'll destroy

got a girl overseas
patriotic weapon by her pillow
full of taxpayer ammunition
as cnn scares my nightmares

decal ribbons on my toyota
support our troops
all i can do
her empty pillow fights tears
lonesome
helpless
angry

and no one knows why you're there
daniel's sandwiches fall apart
before the lunch bell rings
he shows
the few pictures we receive
brags
collector sports cards

and i know you're due home soon
and i pray to the one i curse
that you'll make it

but what then?


June 21, 2009

#75 a ride on the john deere

the world shrinks
slips away

my young ankles
bounce
along the trail
in the wake of my ancestral manhood
driven now by my father

the exhaust clears its throat
as i sit on the frankensteined rear platform

then my feet
pseudo-run
backwards
imagining their strength to push the tractor
and my father
in the driver seat

the world shrinks
slips away
into the distance
behind my father
ahead of me

#74 to die happy

to treat the king as i treat the janitor
we are all equal
crown on head or plunger in hand

to appreciate my parents and their struggles
accept the things i wouldn't do
admire the things i couldn't do

to tap the 8-ball when force is unnecessary
not for karma's sake but because it is right

to know the power of surrender
to find, only after i stop seeking
to learn to ignore the false voice
that screams premature surrender

to save the face of others
and to be able to face myself
when my own face feels lost

to thank those around me for their contributions
to smile at strangers
and to listen to people in need

to behave
not because my actions might be recorded
not because a well-selling sacred book says so
but to live according to my own inner god, my voice
whisper and shout
what is right


to live with mistakes i made
earning my position at the start line
struggling to the finish ribbon
broken or not

to accept and to learn
and to sleep
tired
smiling
knowing



June 20, 2009

#73 late june

not snow
it's june
not dandelion fluff
as many think

a wandering white-out
a moseying monsoon
a flurry of cottonwood seed

approaching ground
enjoying the scenic route

where it lies 
waiting for a disturbance
to bring more
lazy adventure

June 18, 2009

#72 drop those books

the days grow 
for one more week
even the strict ones
take us outside 
the sun
cooks our room
slowing the clock
i'm convinced

after-school snacks
come from the freezer
and supper from the barbeque

when the teacher rings the bell

June 16, 2009

#71 contrast

when will we evolve into trees
content to put down roots
to recognize the power of competition
and when it is time to give back to the Earth
to help the others
to spend a life reaching and living and content

June 14, 2009

does it always need to start things?
can't it be omitted?
can it be justified in a margin
(left or write)?
or 
placed at the end
extra 
pazow 

the title


#69 first drafts

a seed is planted
compost is mixed
something will grow

tended or not
eaten or not
something is here

the step has been taken
something is in motion
a cosmos is changed

#68 just like a big boy

seeing the top of the fridge
toes reaching the bottom of the bed
going into the store alone
driving
on lap
supervised
alone

buying a first house
knee touching the floor to propose
sending the child into the store alone
living
for self
for family
for society

#67 inspired by Lifting

head against bird's window
eyes see clouds
mind sees memories

a new life-season begins
darkness and inspiration fight for space 
between overhead compartment
and floataion device

she shifts back
headrest
reclines all three inches
relief and the unknown
fill her stomach
along with in-flight pretzels

June 13, 2009

#66 vena amoris

old anger rests under dust
once shiny and new and promising
now a forgotten black box
back corner of closet shelf
once everything
now nothing
then
one knee'd
now
no need

#65 the unspecial brink

when putting feet to floor overwhelms
when breaths won't go down past the mouth
and life piles up
in front
around
behind
on top
monthly reports are overdue at work
and the visa bill remains in the pile of papers
unopened
life feels like a to-do list item
when luck and happiness
mix to form guilt 
when competence feels like a lie
and adulthood 
a mean trick
when motivation and paycheque are spent
credit card and energy maxed out
when you can't finish what you start

June 12, 2009

#64 US

America
an empire sick on and of itself
America
bloated and obese and still eating
drive-thru jumbo biggie-size crap
America
glued to our plasma screens
fear and boredom and convenience and procrastination
tv and all its potential
become social masturbation
passing time until we sleep
sports highlights and youtube and celebrity gossip
idle idols
what is the return policy on these choices we make?

June 11, 2009

#63 from a park bench

floats and bobs and floats and bobs
a life of leisure and bread crumbs
then
Golden Retriever
Splash!
and they take flight
hawnking squawking
winged bowling pins

June 3, 2009

#62 campfire smoke and lake water

not a kid
not a teen
not really
license yes
independent no
not really
the finding-yourself years
want to work with kids
a teacher?
a psychologist?
a nurse?

and so they roll in
white and clean
many driven by mum and dad

a summer passes

they return home
exhausted
some decisions made
dirt-tans under flip-flops
hemp-memories on wrists
finding out that you never find yourself
or you always find yourself
depending on how things are going

June 2, 2009

#61 i do not

rusty wedding bells
silent conversations
doors closing 
words bottled
germinating within souls
poisoning society
walk outside
don't forget your smiles