July 29, 2010

#518 concrete and clouds


i wouldn't want to be a dentist or a coroner
everyone dreading my visits
and i didn't want to be your lover
like hugging a barb-wire fence that was sometimes charged
but i saw past the concrete walls around your soul
and i saw beneath the black cloud above your head
i saw the softness you fought so hard to hide
i wanted to fix you, but the concrete and clouds proved too strong
i quit on you
and i'm glad i did
life worked out good for me
but today i wonder
about the thickness of your walls
about the opaqueness of your cloud

July 28, 2010

#517 family


i am a tree-top
owing everything i am to my roots
yet, i grow away from them
the more i strive for my sun
the more the distance grows
my roots strive below the surface, for me
and i inch away
my achievements hybrid-cross with feelings of guilt, betrayal
for without my roots
i would fall and i would rot

July 27, 2010

#516 wasted years?

and she left home
to meet the world
to find herself
and to find her place in that world
she taught overseas for two years
partied hard for a year
travelled for another year
and on the far end of our blue globe
she met someone
from the next town over from her folks
they returned, and married
they enjoyed their life all the more
knowing what lie beyond their fence

July 25, 2010

#515 breathing in, breathing out

on the 3000th night of sharing a bed, he understood
she was asleep, he halfway
and he noticed her breathing, compared hers to his own
as she exhaled, his chest expanded
as his chest deflated, she inhaled
they were perfect opposites, existing in synchronicity
he thought of her excitable personality
of his calm demeanor
he thought of how much she liked parties and social events
of how much he loved staying at home with a good book
perfect opposites, existing in synchronicity

July 23, 2010

#514 beware the nailclippers

the clip-clop of heels echo off the ceiling high above the sterile hallway
you can spot the expert travellers, men in suits with minimalist luggage
at the gates, newlyweds sit side by side in silence, each zoned in on their own handheld device
PA voices abound, the atmosphere oscillates between frantic-busy and subtly-tense
as overpriced drinks compete for your attention

stories hide behind travellers' faces
departing, reuniting
family, business
routine, nervous

for a place with so much of humanity, this place sure does lack humanity

July 22, 2010

#513 i love you?

says from the other side of the phone call
but i hear the question mark
so, for two reasons
i do not mirror a response
#1
those three words are too important to just use to reassure each other
they are deeper and more special than that
i would not use our bedsheets to wipe up a spill in the kitchen
i will not speak those three words for what i think might be petty self-doubt
#2
i never want the words to be reflexive
like the knee-jerk in a doctor's office
for though i love you with every bit of my body
i want those words to pass certain parts of me every time
the brain, through new synaptic connections
the heart, to feel it every time the words are said
the soul, to appreciate what the words mean

failing to supply the mirror response, does not equal failure
but
if you do not know that i love you
with every cell in my body
from the eternal, vital cells in my heart and organs
to the dead, replaceable cells that cover the dirt under the tips of my fingernails
then
then i have failed

July 21, 2010

#512 converted by christians

there was a man down the lane
his hat it wore him crooked
as he drove his pink david-brown
chasin' down his brother ronald with a pickaxe or a crowbar
oh jonny, oh jonny
jonny smith is more than a name
is a legend, a local celeb, a story and the mystique, rolled all into one

every side of the old family home, shows a different colour
and the middle of the barn-roof, limbo walks the ground
fat bowtie polkadot orange, burn-hole through the middle
victim of the rusty muffler of his faithful pink david-brown
oh jonny, oh jonny
jonny smith is more than a name
is a legend, a local celeb, a story and the mystique, rolled all into one

and my daddy drove that man to town
eye-to-eye he called him jonny
knowin all who saw, later would be makin fun
my daddy saw a man inside, and he never run
oh jonny, oh jonny
jonny smith is more than a name
is a legend, a local celeb, a story and the mystique, rolled all into one

and those cross-wearin' teasers, did more to turn me heathen
than ronald or jonny, or even and his blue-streakin'
sinners bowed their heads, low on a sunday
but i knew what they'd said, behind the back of my daddy
oh jonny, oh jonny
jonny smith is more than a name
is a legend, a local celeb, a story and the mystique, rolled all into one

#511 Donald-the-Bishop

the boy he is forgotten, the man stands 6 feet 9
scale's numbers jump to one-forty-kg, lines up t'the needle ev'ry time
with arms that could spell wiry, describe their agile owner to the world
and a cut below his good eye, that makes for a many story
let me name our black-jeaned hero, introducing Donald-the-Bishop

inches from pro-league contracts, but something changed (in) his mind
schwarzennagger still owes him, he'll prove 50 push-up at one time
for which he'll make you choose, "with the left or with the right?"
ripped off, by hollywood; beaten down, by all that's good
Donald-the-Bishop, we sure could use you now

i was there that tuesday, outside Mrs. Lee's
Donald with the devil in him, requiring four rcmp's
they all hit the concrete sidewalk, a uniform gripped in donald's headlock
five red faces from the effort, 7 long minutes this spectacle did consume
but Donald-the-Bishop... landed in the backseat, of the good ol' white-and-blue

this be just one quick sketch, one of the many many
there's Marigold-John Donnie-the Dyke and the Wookies, but they earn a song all their own
same for Mr. Underduck, and Captain Shaky too
but before we proceed farther, let's tip one cold one back
to the four respected officers, and The Bishop jeaned in black

Donald-the-Bishop, we sure could use you now
Donald-the-Bishop... we sure could use you now!

July 20, 2010

#510 on age being a privilege, not an excuse

they say
you are who you are well before you're an adult
so things like beliefs and attitudes and physiology
harden into things less malleable
but i have a 50+ mum who took up running
(for the first time)
a 30+ brother who returned to school
(once considered hell)
and a 20+ friend who is a social acrobat
(a recluse through childhood)
so let's admit that phrases like
it's too late now
my time for that is past
maybe when i was younger
are excuses
and excuses become truth only with acceptance
so write that list
start at the top
work your way down
watch that list shrink and grow
watch that list accessorize with check-marks
as you fight excuses and turn "impossible"
     into done


July 19, 2010

#509

first i saw the flash
then i heard mother nature slam my chest
minutes ago, i was the winner
peaking this mountain
victorious over nature
or so i thought
but then a black cloud appeared
and within seconds i was fighting panic

July 17, 2010

#508 failure

great chunks of her planet fell and disintegrated
and i wasn't there
i lied to myself
it'll be ok
but while i was lying
the nucleus of her planet was exposed
and i wasn't there
there is no excusing this inaction
instead i locked it up in a safety deposit box
ignored by the newest part of my cranial development
and i check on it less and less
but sometimes
i walk to the bank, key in hand, and open the little door
alone, always alone
for grief is powerful and unpredictable
a dangerous combination
then i stuff it back in, lock the door, and leave the bank
i walk home
and i am quiet

July 16, 2010

#507 anxiety

he's here
he's in the house
i heard footsteps earlier, creaking the patio floorboards outside my bedroom window
he's in the house
the weather is blue and bright
the time is 11am
and i've been scourging my soul for three hours
for not stepping out of bed
in this world
there are no small things
the phone rang around 9
and the pump in my ribcage sang double time in a strange, disonant chord
i lie in bed
my lip tingles from being chewed
the tingling makes me chew more
a cycle with no end in sight
he's under my bed

July 15, 2010

#506 on joining the dark side

i am sliding in, jumping in
to the oldest contract in history
and like many other recent applicants
i feel fresh and excited about the prospect
the brilliance of the marketing gimmick that shines on her finger
is reflected in her face each time her eyes glimpse it
and i smile
because she smiles
and a one inch object, hollow in the middle
makes us feel full
i did not expect it to change us so much
but my cynicism admits defeat
i'm excited for our circles to join in food and drink and celebration
i'm excited to write her new last name
i'm excited for her to be my wife
and for me to be her man

July 14, 2010

#505 shovel blisters

an october day in july
perfect weather for yardwork
remembering my father
and i am darkened
how did he know everything
how did he work so hard
i mow and weed, and repair and build
then my watch tells me its hungry for a late lunch

in the bathroom i wash up
motivated by the type of sandwich
only hard work can build:
simple
unbeatable
while washing i notice my hands
darkened by oil and dirt
black arcs under nails
remembering my father
and i am brightened

July 13, 2010

#504 car crosses fatal median


his wife and kids went out for groceries
he'd stretched out in his favourite chair
excited for silence
no shouting, no questions, no chores
he opened the book he'd received months ago

two chapters later, he stopped
distracted by silence
he inserted a scrap of paper as a bookmark
a useless item on its own
that finds meaning from finding its proper place
does it miss the book while i'm reading, he mused
then he stood, stretched, walked to the window
and stared
down an empty drive

July 12, 2010

#503 asphalt and dandelion fluff

there are times, home alone, when you stare in a mirror
though no mirrors hang from nails anywhere in sight

you look so far inside the eyes of your reflection, your soul wets itself
so far that you risk forgetting the entrance
knowing all other exit doors will lock behind you
leaving you in alleys with forgotten weeds breaking through asphalt
places that never appear in marketing videos

and it won't matter if the alarm sounds
you'll be yelling in the alley until you realize
then you'll sleep in the alley on the asphalt
with dandelions gone to seed

the trip is risky but necessary
like reading your old journal
risky
because you'll see words you don't like
necessary
because you'll see words you don't like

#502 a flower in a vase on a coffee table

she stares at the square vase
sitting with her legs crossed
unfolds her hands

manipulated to be "Beautiful"
cut
stored in a fridge
paid for
wrapped
delivered
arranged in its vase on a coffee table
Beauty
manufactured for $29.95

she stares at the vase
like a man staring at a mirror, the first day of his mid-life crisis
sighs a mental sigh
refolds her hands on her lap

July 11, 2010

#501 a pessimist's optimistic toast

take risks
break some rules
use your manners
but take no shit

good people do bad things
bad things happen to good people
the world fascinates me but
what goes around doesn't always come

inspiration is 80% perspiration
81% frustration
100% mathematical nonsense 
so believe in yourself

like a salmon jumping up a waterfall
go against the stream
for maybe just maybe
you are what is forward
and the stream has had it it all wrong all along

live laugh and love
like the gift store trinkets instruct
and remember the fourth L-word
learn
learn that as beautiful as live laugh and love sound
they are even more
learn that pain and peace are inevitable by-products of living
learn that laughing feels best at the worst times
learn that love the word is overused and empty
learn that love the verb, the action, is underused
and full of learning and pain and peace and laughter
full
learn this
and disregard some of my words
and write your own
then
then my poem will be finished



#500 thoughts on #500

ceremonious occasions demand brilliance
but expectations of brilliance intimidate, overwhelm, stymy
i felt inspiration's rush
tempered by doubt, born of experience
i dared not imagine this day
yet the chore done, seems trivial

the bucket looked too big to fill
the first drops felt tiny, and soon i forgot to watch the waterline
the overflowing awoke me to accomplishment

July 9, 2010

#499 plastic tiaras and flashlight sabers

every girl wants to be a princess
and every boy wants to be a movie hero
so why are parents yelling at each other behind beautiful closed front-doors?

the girl and her tiara
the boy and his flashlight saber
where do they go?

and we're told this imperfect sphere keeps spinning
and we tell kids accepted lies
what goes around comes around and cheaters never prosper
because we all want to believe in plastic tiaras and flashlight sabers

July 8, 2010

#498 reversing the direction of a train

sunshine and a favourite trail
glacier lilies fill views
life-talks and and granola bar stops
pictures snapped and kilometers walked
steps taken
measured in time
steps taken
immeasurable steps

July 7, 2010

#497 the other side of "the extra few feet in my bed" (cowboy junkies)


staying up late, avoiding bedtime
i forget why separation was a good idea
slide into bed, exhausted but un-sleepy
the bed, huge and empty

not spooning, feels wrong
like interlocking my fingers left over right

alternating between studying the stucco ceiling and closing my eyes
i only remember the good times
your laugh
saturday morning sleep-ins
morning massages

morning arrives
some time in the night my brain fell asleep
or at least turned off
now, still exhausted
i face a day filled with distractions

July 6, 2010

#496 on a couch listening to mellow music

today, tuesday feels like sunday
and lids are sleepy for no good reason
the weather is quiet and says rain but doesn't deliver
bright grey heavy in the air
a day when to-do lists stagnate
and motivation atrophies

July 5, 2010

#495 bird-watching (attention robin)

a bird cheeps and chirps
outside the window
mocking me
for sitting at a desk in july
throat vibrates, chest colours shimmer and flash
she flies
up
and away
leaving my sight
and i think
bitch
and pick up my pen

#494 strike pianos, throw rocks

strike a piano key
in anger
in love
in protest
but don't do nothing, unless nothing is a conscious choice

throw a rock in the lake
out of rebellion
out of boredom
out of honour
but don't do nothing, unless nothing is a conscious choice

for then nothing is something, while unconscious nothing is inactivity
unintentional passivity
uneventful reactionism
unacceptable laziness

these are the nothings killing creativity
killing motivation
killing desire
killing humanity


so strike a piano key
in anger
in love
in protest
but don't do nothing, unless nothing is a conscious choice


July 4, 2010

#493 boys

when snow turns red
and eyes plead
from a head, dead
disgraced in the pick-up box
paraded up and down main
their sticks make them feel like men
proving to the world
they're only boys

#492 way leads onto way

take the stairs two at a time said she
and enjoy every one thought i but
how do i enjoy the price of an unchosen alternative
how do i appreciate frost's other road
how do i love the friend not made
fine for jc and teresa and mohandas
but what about me
how do i


#491 warm nights

mamie always said the best thing
for the garden, is warm nights
sure, sun and rain are needed
like smiles and tears
but if you don't like the person you are
when you crawl under the bedsheets
sun and rain don't matter
and daytime smiles and daytime tears
won't help a damn

#490 I don't know why

And i should have accompanied and made the walk
but i sat in my chair with Grief and Shock
And she faced alone
black female red on ceramic white
illuminated by hospital fluorescents

And something was born and something died
And something died and something was born
She emerged
pale
flush
Hello's and Goodbyes had been spoken in silence
Something grew from the composted sadness
Some product of conception on the other side of the door
And I fight to understand my misconceptions
The nurse's face, the other place

#489 "Society and me" (inspired by matthew barber)

like the violence on daddy's old tv
like our plastic island floating in your sea
i see sad and darkness between you and me

like your poet's poem unwritten and it's pen
like bottles smashed and mean words thrown again
i see no way for no happy end

like the prime-time scene your child wasn't meant to see
like my dog buried creekside, under mossy "t"
i see now how your face will stay with me

like oil-drenched bird stumbling at the shore of your sea
like the kids babysat and raised by tv
i can see we were never meant to be

i see it's time to stop, to stop the lie
to start, to start the cry
time to move, to move our try

i can see we were never meant to be
i can see we were never meant to be

July 3, 2010

#488 sitting under a tree and trading air with grass

old places exist on this earth
places that provide support, to sitters
places that speak answers, to listeners
places that breathe wisdom, into conscious breathers
old places exist on this earth
places where wise elders become neophytes

find a space that speaks, answers, respires
sit
listen
breathe

July 2, 2010

#487 the smell of paint

we painted the wall
and pretend everything was okay
but our hearts have no return policy for words
spoken or received

we struggle through the everyday
waiting for a day when our memory paints over the words
waiting to choose a colour dark enough
from the rows and rows of swatches
so bright and promising
in the light of the paint aisle

#486 just one drink

she pulls me in
against self-promises
lures me
i give in to a moment
give up on myself
and when the moment is fulfilled
i feel empty, again

July 1, 2010

#485 grey mailbox

i look at the mailbox
rusting
leaning
neglected
i really should fix that

the hinges squeak in effort as i open the box
flyer, bill, coupon
letter
from amy
amy
neglcted
i really should fix that

#484 latex gloves

depression grows like mold
thriving in dark damp forgotten places
hidden from view
then ugly to others
get rid of it
but are they willing to don gloves
to arm themselves with bleach
to scrub hands raw
to crawl in dark crawlspaces
that bring darker stories at night
when eyes fall closed
from the exhaustion of effort
no
they just want the problem fixed
so they can think
i told you