May 31, 2010

#445 to the bump in your belly

heed guidelines and question rules
find a passion and nurture it
use a magnifying glass and a telescope
remember the one you're using and the one you're not
be kind to everyone
especially girls and women
save curses and you save their weight
same for raising your voice
question faith and authority
and answer for yourself


May 30, 2010

#444 night lake

a lake, forgotten in childhood
surfaces in Night's pillow world
demands the same feeling every visit
the fear of what lies below the surface

monsters that do not exist
still impact
as the forest lies across the lake
dark, inviting, unexplored

May 29, 2010

#443 dizzy and falling on grass

snow in july and january lightning
confusion fills mars' nearest neighbour
as we orbit and collide around and with our selves
we are forever nauseous from the spin
and the forever makes us unaware of our condition
how do we escape
star-spin at night with friends
and find our own center of gravity
reinvent our own pull
our own laws of nature

May 21, 2010

#442 handed down

it was the second thing he'd do
after work, monday to friday, 9 to 5
first, he'd set his lunchbox
then, second thing, scrub his hands
struggle to erase the black nails of manual labour

today
i set my lunchbag down after work
studied my hands
and embarrassment pumped from my heart
out to my soft hands

May 20, 2010

off-line for a week

May 19, 2010

#441 cheers to a child

that you find your thing
a thing you enjoy being part of
enjoy playing or doing or being
that you do your thing often enough to build skill
but not so much you lose your joy
that you know you are good at it
and you keep the joy and find that people will pay for the skill
but that you are giving enough
once in a while
to say No to money for your passion that you develop into a gift
and do for others and do for joy
and that you find someone who shares something for your joy
someone who has her or his own thing
and that you find happiness
alone and together
with the world and without

May 18, 2010

#440 the birdcage



i left the door open
on the bird's cage
all day
got home from work
and Sissy was on her perch
i was relieved
but more, angry

did she notice open door?
did she fly around and return?
was she happy when i closed the door?
and most of all
what would i do?

May 17, 2010

#439 noseprints

and her words to me might be ugly to you
like the translucent smudges on our front window
but i understand the source
i know they are from her watching for me to come home
words hurt
but so does joy
go feel bad for someone else
i am happy

May 16, 2010

#438 first impressions

the door is dented
and weathered and scratched by dog
the light is off
and the fixture cracked and dirty
the paint is chipped and the trim-boards are warped


May 15, 2010

#437 here's to asparagus borrowed

"borrowing" asparagus
asking how are you from back steps
and meaning it
exchanging tools and books and pleasantries
playing tag with red wine and with petsitting
you're it

now, surrounded by new doorsteps
where they wave and i wave
but i don't know names
there's "the-old-guy-with-the-pug" "the-weekend-musicians" and "the-purple-suburban-people"
but i miss borrowing asparagus
i miss my neighbour

#436 catholics on 4th and Hypocrisy

on a side street corner
sits a brick building
with a big small 't' on top
empty
save a few hours a week
when a man dressed in fancy pj's
professes about greed and helping the poor

#435 stars on black summer skies

in this blue carpet world
where the floor, rocks so well to the swell of the ocean
that a couple is lost in silent music

the room changes by day but by night
it is a room
a world
for two people
who will lose track of dates
because dates will turn to days
and
campfire smoke and tipi sleep-outs and cottage parties
will stretch into a life together
in this beautiful blue carpet world

#434 "we reach the shore"


the colour in my cotton candy
the life in my bleachers
the difference between standing
in the game
in the box
full count
and standing
alone
ball and bat
practising for a game that never comes

she puts a glove on my hand and leads me to the mound
from my safe places, dug out or daisy filled

May 14, 2010

#433 on habit

habit is the friend of comfort and the enemy of growth
the friend and the enemy of creativity
habit changes time
and changing habits changes people
changes neurons and muscles
actions and reactions
and they exist under every scalp
even the one who rebels habit

May 13, 2010

#432 Pretty Frickin Brave

breaking pine
fists hard as titanium
heart fragile as chicken egg

if her world only knew
how delicate
how precious
how loving

but she hides truth
behind fists and sarcasm and a quick offense
and they only see tough
only know tough

May 11, 2010

#431 quaecumque sunt vera

bulk wine in gold chalice
bought with my coins from collection basket
and if i don't believe it's the blood
of the quirky jew
bearded blue-eyed and white?
i'm denied at gate by The Rock
a fisherman with identity confusion
blessed be god forever
that our sacrifice may be acceptable
the work of human hands
for we sacrifice truth

#430 on our knees

two black eyes covered with two post-it notes
social billboard
and a man faces us in the elevator
and we strangers are joined in discomfort, unnerved
necks angled, joint attention pseudo-gaze at digital floor numbers ascending
and the crazy man ain't so crazy
he sees the bars that we love
we call the bars beautiful
he calls them ugly
stares us in the face
and we refuse to see
instead we do unspeakable things to our jailers

May 9, 2010

#429 the pioneer daze

there is an electronics company called Pioneer
does anyway else find that peculiar
they want to associate
with hard work and determination and quality workmanship
but they want to skip the in between
and we let them
look at brand names and slogans and jingles
what are they trying to fool you to believing

May 8, 2010

#428 don't look


the woodsplitter's appetite was almost full
the boy and his father had started after lunch
now, dusk left only about 10 candidates for slaughter
maybe eleven
the cracking and spitting of wood giving way
fought to be heard over the humming and coughing engine


the boy felt nothing
as the machine sliced his hand off
just a sense of fitting detachment
watching it drop to the bark and kindling-bits october ground

then the father saw
and he stopped
as the neurons sent the message
yes, you maimed your boy. decapitated.
then he switched off the motor
stopped again
and spoke

#427 patience comes to those who wait

warm ashes beat open flame
but the temptation
the temptation for speed and gratification
often trump old-fashion biddies
patience and determination
consistency and meticulousness
but the call of the open flame
has been the end of many a marshmallow

May 6, 2010

#426 searching

i climb down the rusted ladder
into the three-crock well
hoping for water
my feet hit concrete
all echo, no splash

i fight panic as a cobweb clings to my face
i brush the grossness with sleeve
sigh
relax
ascend the ladder to the light
and walk to the river

May 5, 2010

#425 the space between the trees

spring riding
my fingers twitch on brakes
i focus on the earth at the end of narrow logs and bridges
on the spaces between trees
sitting behind my seat

surrendering to gravity
testing gravity
challenging gravity

the near defeat on the uphill, forgotten
nothing but the trail in front of me now
the space between the lodgepoles
with a blanket of orange needles
with some tears
exposing jagged rock and slick roots

#424 a place of fear

as smoke and blood compete
i fight to suppress panic
eyes closed faith in the bearded professional
more blood and smoke
a digging through numb nerves to my center
a place, a fear
i have not met
speech and movement removed until they are useless
when he is done with me
i slide my jacket on
walk away

May 4, 2010

#423 "make a record of your sensations"

clusters of thoughts bounce and ricochet on and off my cranium's interior and i cannot put the thoughts together
like last night's poem written in my bed inside my head
i remember greatness, but the arrangement of the 26 letters
falls between synaptic clefts
like luigi off a cliff

just as the recording of a moment changes time
so too, does the failure to place a version of the moment on paper, or screen
to watch the blinking cursor
like sooty shoes in empty winter woods
leaving moments, as trails of black on white

#422 disposable thoughts

yellow squares,
adhesive memory aids
once trees
now disposable thoughts
a block sits by Bell's box
how did he do it
without post-it notes


#421 monster

monster is a silly word to adults and parents
but how many of us like to sleep alone
without a light, a tv, a pet, music
we shelter our kids
and we shelter ourselves
from the monstrosities of which our kids are capable
and it's funny that monsters live under the bed and in the closet
a child's first choices for refuge


#420 aptly numbered

if you can't say something nice
don't say anything at all
says every mother
and so i sat in my cloud on my couch
sat with my clouded friends, away from humanity

then i heard cleaver
on problems and solutions
and it all seemed so black-and-white
i got off the couch
out of the cloud

then discouragement hit
i realized every time i joined a solution
i added to a problem somewhere
gave up meat, put my neighbour out of work
turned off the light bulbs, found myself in the dark


#419 "on the street and the epitome of vague "

the last of the poets and the philosophers died
and no one knows when
and their last theory/system of faith disproven
Supply And Demand
for they're needed now more than ever
still they rot in wooden boxes beneath the surface
or maybe they hide
maybe they've gone underground
waiting for people to listen
maybe they hide in guitar strings and computer keys
hoping for hope

#418 composting and compiling

sorting the garbage form the reusable from the compost
cutting and sorting
connecting themes and linking words
trying and re-trying
grouping and discarding
until he is ready to walk away
to put them on display and to walk away

May 3, 2010

#417 pocket vibrations

i've not owned you
in two-thousand calendar squares
yet you haunt my iliac crest

my mind plays april fools in september
and i swear you're there
with change and keys, wrinkled receipts and purple lint

your battery is dead
you lie waste in a landfill
alive in my every day and my everyday



age is a ghost
a nomadic wanderer
hoarding memories along Eighty Year trail

guilt is a roommate
with laundry-and-circles-and-dishes
dwelling in a dwelling for things without end

#416 something's broken

i am one of paul's new inheritors
false certificate of birth

a brother calls on a phone
and i want to ask
do you feel the guilt

the guilt of clean fingernails
unknown credit card balances
of throwing out broken appliances
along with your aspirations of being handy

i am one of paul's new inheritors
overestimating my worth


#415 peace without the index

seaweed and diamonds and titanium mountains

step into the ring
the well-read corner
or the blue corner
weighing in
on questions of matter
and do they matter

a spliff-smoking pugilist
still searching
on map and by thumb and in car
for corners to a nation into which he fell
caught by a man in a white coat

#414 i have some bread to offer









what would he say

seeing his anatomy and the liquid that lub-dubs through

doled out once a week to well-dressed, head-bowing, chest-thumping sinners

cups made of Man's sixth most expensive metal


touched, honoured

disgusted, insulted


lord, god of all creation

i'm sorry

for what we've done to this big blue toy ball of yours

which you have given and human hands have maimed

mine included

#413 rearview mirror

the only thing worse than coming to in a racing, wailing ambulance
is coming to in a crawling, silent ambulance
i float above
see a sign over a night reflection
objects in mirror are closer than they appear
and i feel irony but its meaning haunts, unclear
family and friends, regrets and triumphs
flash-fade into the reflections background
drowning fast out of sight into a horizontal world
choices and moments
cookies and mashed potatoes

May 2, 2010

#412 poetry, like warm apple pie

the dough is rolled and spread
the tracks are pierced pricked
the oven pre-heated
the fork holes let out the pressure, the heat, the excess
release and escape
a way out


#411 "side by side in orbit"

an empty dock
beneath the light of a half full-moon
a young couple treads water full of romance
they climb on top of the wooden dock
extra meaning beneath their simple comments
down the beach, sparks shoot up from a bonfire
they swim back
and run forth
to the warmth of towels
in the chill of midnight
and fumble for their clothes
folded smooth on a fallen tree

May 1, 2010

#410 loss and freedom

his body laughs as it shakes
inside and out
beloved chains removed late in life
no longer restrained by the safety net
guilt is a friend now
constant companion
for freedom is a result of late night wishes finding fruition
but they are there
in the light switch and in the b'tato beeler