February 29, 2012

#1030 dear wallflower: ask her out

secure jobs, guaranteed income, safety deposit boxes
make me think risk is bad, to be avoided
if that's so ,then why do
     skydivers
          singers
               and free-travelers
send jealousy
climbing up my esophagus

February 28, 2012

#1029 happiness $179

fake flame flickers
creating imagined warmth
and i sit sipping, comfortable
alone, content
happily deceived

February 27, 2012

#1028 why

i see minds change
and young people question their own beliefs
i see frustration
and then elation when they "get it"
i see kindness and helpfulness and humanity
sure, i see bad things too
but the things here, this is why i teach

February 26, 2012

#1027 weather or not

what if words were snowflakes falling
and the perfect poem settled on your tongue
and dissolved
leaving your tongue a secret the world wished it knew

what if letters were wind
and the perfect story pushed past your face
whispering to your spring skin
leaving you feeling ready for the day, yet like you forgot some important appointment

what if sentences were the sound of thunder
and the secret of life cracked from the sky and into your ears
explained everything, while you counted, waiting for the next boom
leaving only a distant echo of lightning's vibration

February 25, 2012

#1026 spoiled by miracles

each day is a miracle
so i fail to appreciate
like any priceless gem
in a mountain of treasure
how many miracles, will i give up today
question of today

each piece of furniture
every free moment
like the winnings of an addict
i piss it away
how many miracles, add up to happiness
question of today

each book on the shelf
every carton in the fridge
like the gift from last year's birthday
unnoticed today
how many miracles
how many miracles, did i miss on today

February 24, 2012

#1025 popeye cigarettes and crackerjacks

childhood is slurping from a brook and boys taunting boys to touch the electric fence
childhood ends and few know when or why
childhood is checking for winners under discarded bottle caps, and playing hockey on gravel
childhood is a lie by accident because we don't know the truth
childhood is thinking your big brother has it all and that if we could only cover the world with a tarp, the inconvenience of rain would be solved
childhood is the phenomenon that grown-ups spend everyday trying to get over while trying to re-enact
childhood is finding the prize in the cereal box
nothing more, nothing less

February 23, 2012

#1024 things without end

laundry
dishes
bed-making

love
memories
kind deeds

circles
roads
and rings

February 22, 2012

#1023 the smelll of the mechanic's shop

the grit of the autobody shop soap
speaks to me
of what it means to be a man
gritty, tough, clean, practical
the mirror wedged behind the faucet
leaning against the grimy wall
shows me the man inside the boy's body

February 21, 2012

#1022 cheese trumps chocolate, this is how

this is how
like, we weren't made for each other
because no one could guess how great we'd be for each other
that kind of match can be made up by none other than
the power of coincidence
this is how
like, i want to be nothing but my best
like wasting time on youtube or tv or sleeping in
is a sin
because she's in the world
so i want to be better than those things
(unless i'm sleeping in with her)
this is how
like, angels are cool and all
but expected, predictable, and cliche
none of which apply to her
this is how
like, sticking my chest out at other guys
is a waste of time
because she walks beside me
because she makes me want to make other people feel loved, not intimidated
and besides, it hurts them enough to know she's walking beside me
and so i hope they find their own someone
this is how
like cheese is more romantic than chocolate
because, she likes it more
and cheese makes her happy
and i think it's so cool that she
likes cheese more than sweets
this is how
like, rainbows and fireworks and waterfalls and northern lights
like they're just doing a job
like they're just trying to describe the feeling my chest experiences when call display announces she's calling
and like, forgiving them for coming up short
this is how
this is how my life has changed

February 20, 2012

#1021

remember when life was play, with a little bit of work
when did they flip
must have been gradual, not to be noticed, no "one moment"
but here you are, judging self-worth on the profession that eats more of your weekly hours than sleep does
the profession that leaves a skinless skeleton of yourself to kiss your kids goodnight before vegging and then going to bed yourself, setting the alarm to do it all over again
you wonder where your money goes?
look around
your life is filled with crap
and crap costs money
add up the value of just your belongings you can see now, from where you sit
there is still time
play

February 19, 2012

#1020 alone on a teeter-totter

have you ever been home alone
and wanted to learn what it feels like to scrape your facial skin under your fingernails
top to bottom, eyes to chin
long and, slow
like a grade 5 boy's nails on a chalkboard

ever wanted to learn what it felt like?
both on your face and under your nails
ever felt like the trade of the price of pain for pay-off- the relief of release
might be a bargain

ever felt the weight of the to-do list you feel you've carried in your pocket your whole life
ever felt it?
let your mind linger on it?
to wear those ten scar lines of today's warrior
so the world will see your mark of the survivor
so they'll be awkward and/or avoid you

they don't understand that your enemies are their enemy
the everyday
the contentment
the overabundance,
the desensitization
the distance
the difficulty
    with words like "love" and "thank-you" and "hug"

a part of me hopes you have
i hope you never bring it past wondering
but it'd be nice to not be the only one on this lonely playground

February 18, 2012

#1019 this ball we call home

someone sliced my world in half
the way you used to cut your apples
someone grabbed my world and shook it
with two hands, the way you used to shake the
snowglobe i gave you our first christmas together
someone crushed my world with the ball of their foot like
the way you used to tap your foot beneath the pub table, to live music
someone collapsed my world to crumbs by
wringing their hands the way you did before telling me you scratched my car
someone cut the cnter out of my world, the way the
early morning baker cuts the centers out of his donuts

February 17, 2012

#1019 the smell of balsam

i'mperfect
created in the image of a god i used to believe in
until religion ruined our relation
now, in true hippy fashion
i describe myself as more spiritual than religious
my spiritual battery gets a better charge from a walk alone in the woods
than from plugging into a pew once a week
the thing about a pew surrounded by opulence is
something stinks
but i like the way nature stinks
nature's stink inspires me
gives me hope for humanity
and patience for when humanity fails to match those hopes

#1018 carrying thoughts

men receive a multitude of unwritten rights for the simple unintentional act of being born with one   
          extra external part, from
inside a woman we call mother
sometimes we see the multitude, sometimes we fail
carrying life is something i will never "get" or get to do
and i'm okay with that, having
realized the pain of secondary loss, having
realized it twice
i have the luxury of wondering if i
am capable of handling a success, but i have the certainty of knowing i am incapable of handling a
      failure, having
gone through this twice, both times
ending with the acrimonious, not the acronymous, but in the caustic subject of this acrostic

February 16, 2012

#1017 sound whole

the hollow body of the guitar
the master listener
hearing the tinny whinings of six strings at once
and reflecting back the beauty of their sounds
amplifying
transcending notes into chords
the way lyricists transform letters into stories

and we humans still fail to learn
that just because something has a hole in it
doesn't mean it's not worth keeping
in fact
sometimes the hole provides the value

February 15, 2012

#1016 changing forever

a male
not a boy, not a man
stands by a radio
the song playing
changing forever

minutes before
his inner-planet
imploded
changing forever

something breaks in his soul
something new leeches onto his skull's interior
changing forever

February 14, 2012

#1015 black-and-white

one-hundred-thousand words fall around my head
i try to catch them in the right order
to write a novel that will change the world
instead, i drown in words
wishing i could swim

February 13, 2012

#1014 4 letter l-word

life, lived for other people, is not a life
life, lived for oneself, is not a life

life is...
   learning to ride a bicycle
      baking
         studying for a final
   finding the balance
      finding the right mix
         learning not to stress (too much)

life is now
life is yesterday
life is tomorrow

February 12, 2012

#1013 saturday morning sleep-ins

you had the best body for saturday morning
for lounging in bed
for procrastinating all the things the week failed to check off

you had the best body for saturday morning
for curling and for spooning and for cuddling
for reading beside, for chatting to, for talking about all the possibilities for breakfast

you had the best body for saturday morning
but now i lie in bed alone on this saturday, mourning

February 11, 2012

#1012 putting the I back in items

the daily to-do lists exemplify
what is wrong with today
what if you had to write a to-be list each day
1. truthful person
2. loyal friend
3. honest human
4. available family member
if we put our fingers' attention to what we want to be
instead of what we want to do
i think i'd feel a more accomplished person
than if i kept track of of all the shopping and cleaning i accomplished
but instead of being an accomplishment
i am satisfied, through busy-ness,
at being an accomplice
to what is wrong, with today

February 9, 2012

#1011 today's poem

sometimes, i want to write the deepest, most powerful, most poignant poem the world has ever known
to have my name mentioned ahead of billy shakes'
to have similes like psychedelic campfires
to make my metaphors maimed angels
images that make the northern lights look like my images' shadows
and other times
i just want to write my daily poem
and call it done

February 8, 2012

#1010 greyed expectations

my feet delivered me here
within arm's reach, on the bookstore shelf sits a
happy book with a happy pink cover with a happy new mother
with her 
smile and her
newborn baby

but happiness is relative to me
i have no relative to name, or to carry my name after me
tried twice but 
justice, two babies, and two fragments of my soul got
    miscarried
i lost two things that i
    never had

i'm becoming an expert on the first trimester
can i handle a third first trimester?
after the second in one year i 
gave god the digit between the 
 annularis and the secundus manus as a gesture
after the last first trimester
i tried to muster 
the love i need to be being human being
why did my feet deliver me to this aisle?
could they see what is stuck spinning in my brain every time they step, every poem, every day?

it takes all the love i have to
feel love for the shiny glossy glowing woman with her 
smile and her
newborn baby
the book educates, soothes fears, reduces tears
all noble goals

but where is my book?
for the adult who lost two babies, while they were still Maybe's
with its cover so unmarketable a 
wannabee-parent with two dead Almost's, unremarkable

direct my feet to that aisle
grief?
self-help?
miscellaneous?
tell my feet where my answers wait in print
tell my feet why the next time will be better
tell my feet why they shouldn't cry at condolences
tell my feet why they shouldn't feel defeat
tell my feet
tell my feet



February 7, 2012

#1009 blt and chips

we eat big bedtime snacks until we're full
to fill the empty bedtimes spent alone
empty calories filled with meaning
full lives filled with emptiness
the problem is, we are living the dream
we are sleeping right through it

slow down with a fast
not to empty your self
but to fill your being
that each bite becomes a salubrious sensation
that each sip is gratifying gift
we are feeding the beast that is killing us all

find a quiet bench in a loud city
be surrounded by noises and find a quiet, a silence- inside yourself
find a bench that speaks to you in something quieter and clearer than words
sit
breathe
turn down the noise volume, so we can hear one another crying and praying

#1008 a generation of dads

he is of another time
a time when you replaced the dead family dog
after burying the original
buried him along with all emotion and memories
and maybe a toy, if no one's watching

he is of a time when you could cry for a lifetime
but only on the inside
he tried to hide tears and pride
and he did
only to have it pop out of the grave in the next generation

he cannot name emotion
feeling is something men do with hands in engines to solve problems
he is too busy forcing emotions down his esophagus
that he doesn't distinguish them
so naming is impossible

he just knows he buried the only being that understood him
the only being he was permitted to hug
and talk silly to and play with

February 6, 2012

#1007 i'm crying because spaceships are hard to eat

why am i crying?
oh heavens, what a question, child
i suppose i'm crying because spaceship parts are hard to eat
and spaceship parts is, what's in my lunch today
in my lunch a lot of days

why do i have spaceship parts in my lunch?
oh heavens, you do ask questions, child
i suppose "God" put the spaceship in my fridge
a spaceship the size of the veryestestest biggestestest giganticestest
mountainest mountain in the world
well i didn't want to tell god, "god,i hate eating spaceships!"
besides, i wasn't home when god put the spaceship in my fridge
and besides besides, i don't know god's cell phone number or e-mail address and we're not friends
at least, not on facebook

so anyways, i didn't want to tell god, "god, i hate eating spaceships!"
but even if i could talk to god, or e-mail god, or text god... i couldn't lie and say, "t-h-x 4 the spaceship, god" either
and so i eat some bites of spaceship for lunch
today i eat cockpit-bits
some breakfasts i bite the bulkhead
some fridays i feed on the fuselage
some sandwiches i stack with stabilizers
that is why i have spaceship parts in my lunch

will i ever finish eating my spaceship?
oh heavens, i don't know
one wednesday, i ate a whole wing
but another time, for a full fortnight i fasted- did not munch one measly morsel, nor bite one bit of booster
oh heavens, i don't know
i doubt i'll ever finish
though even if i do, i'm talking about a BIG spaceship here
a spaceship the size of the veryestestest biggestestest giganticestest
mountainest mountain in the world
so even if i do finish, a dish that big stays with you (you know, indigestion and the like)

do i like eating my spaceship?
oh heavens, no
though i, suppose i do like some things about eating my spaceship
i like knowing i can eat whole wings just, little ol' me
i like how strong my stomach is (when i first found the spaceship in my fridge i never thought i'd eat so much)
i like feeling connected with other spaceship-eaters (i know one special spaceship-eater and sometimes we share our spaceships: i bite a bit of hers and she chews a chunk of mine)
but, do i like eating my spaceships?

oh heavens, no
i hate eating spaceships, child

#1006

imagine a place

where arcteryx and north face are in style
while calvin klein and ralph lauren are almost shunned
a place where your bike is expected to cost more than your car
(if you have a car)
a town small enough that a trip to the grocery store is 1/4 shopping and 3/4 socializing
but big enough that there's always new people to meet
a place where red wine is not given, but lent
a place where adults get excited for snow falling
a place where 10cm is not just a length, but a rule, a way of life
a place for people who want more from life than 9 to 5

imagine
a place like that

February 5, 2012

#1005 good-bye

i didn't know how much i missed him
until he left
then happy meals felt sad
thinking about how much he'd enjoy them

and when he leaves this place
what will i do then
the present will twist into regrets
and i'll be the cranky old man i now misunderstand

February 4, 2012

#1004 the fax machine ain't nothin'

dancing with the dog in the dining room
dance moves i didn't know i had
dance moves that would embarass the most carefree
but in this house
embarassing dance moves are encouraged
singing along is expected
and hurting from yesterday's laughter is normal

February 2, 2012

#1003 putting the ex in complex

it was a best western in montreal
where we did everything we'd never done
when we woke, you were in my arms

i dressed
i kissed you and you smiled
then i left you
behind

for once
angry tension did not stand between us
i walked out the lobby and back to my own hotel
your smile on my lips

February 1, 2012

#1002 down by the river

down by the river, they talked about what would happen if she was pregnant
money and schedules and living and grandparents
they had the baby all figured
it would be tough, but they'd manage
but they did not discuss how to handle nature's cruel choice
to keep the baby from seeing the light outside the womb
they only knew how they would decorate the nursery room
and their hearts blow
like plastic grocery bags in the wind
empty and lonely and sad
and searching for meaning
in a world they learned was not malicious
but dished out malicious acts

if he could meet god
just for a minute
he'd want an explanation
want to ask the famous why
but he'd probably see red
the same red the doctor saw
he'd see red
punch god in the face
then leave
to later wish he'd asked about the fairness