#672 party time

revealing bikini bottoms, a hot-tub, and too much alcohol
danger
sounds like a great night
until you learn that the wearer is a guy

#671 men at bar time

their feet slap the street
each loud word trying to impress the girls
words they'd never say in front of their grandmother
they spent too much time stinking up the bathroom with pretty smells
once in the bar, their drink becomes an outfit accessory
and i feel like shouting
look around you!
is this where you want to meet mrs right?

#670 of blades and people

one thing that's more dangerous than a sharp knife,
is a dull one
says the expert chef to the prep cook
and the wise old man
to the anxious grasshopper

asking more of something or someone than they are capable,
without giving help
results in pain

#669 days like this

make me forget yesterdays
and anticipate tomorrows
friends and family
food and fun
laugh until unrecognizable sounds squeak and peep and snort
their way out of my body

then at night i sleep
tired, happy, content
such are days like this

#669 taking over

this strange place will soon be mine

the colours and the shapes will be as internal as my organs

i will flip on the lights

unamazed that my mind knows the home of the switch

i will be able to navigate without lights

but for now

it belongs to her

#668 bedtime

what was once fun is old and tired
once flashy and new
now pathetic and chintzy
so do i change back to my old self
or find a new fun
and hear the old me mock

#667 sound and silence

"the amazing thing about wood is not that it burns,
but that it floats"
the amazing thing about the poet is not that she is published,
but that she writes daily
the amazing thing about the student is not the graduation,
but the more than a decade of sitting in a desk
the amazing thing about mothers is not the miracle of birth,
but the miracle of forever
the amazing thing about the Mona Lisa is not the fame,
but that like all paintings, it's just made with lines
the amazing thing about music is not the genius,
but that it's all just sound and silence

#666 "turn up the music"

some say evil lives in music
self-corruption in listening to rock n roll
but how else can a north american teen survive those
years between childhood and adulthood when we
realize the adults are just, on average, larger than children
they still exhibit tantrums and they still believe in magic
and the ones who have kids
all believe their kids' lives will be fixed versions of their own
the arnold to their devito

#665 picking strings, picking thoughts

fingertips run on metal strings
massaging some part of my mind
their bustle on their frets, soothes my own
music is a language that cannot be packaged in a dictionary
to do so is to put a bow on happiness
and to slip depression into a gift bag

#664 nature's ambulance-chaser's

after the flooding
cottonwoods thrive
benefiting from tragedy
not malicious,
circumstantial

line river beds
waiting for flood and erosion

#663 go fear

fear is a symptom of growth
and comfort a side effect of complacency
do you scare yourself everyday
do you try new things
music, courses, hobbies
do you share your skills in front of crowds

#662 flakes

month-old tire-tracks and footprints
fade and disappear as fluff falls from above
erasing sloppy browns
leaving new white
potential
self-promises and everyday revolution fill my head
as white fills yards
each one is unique
but what's it matter
when they share fate of purpose and of place

#661 sports and tools

what is a man
does he fix everything and drink beer from the bottle
does he cuddle his girl and hold doors open
does he dress well
does he have dirty fingernails
does he save words, and in doing so, save their weight
does he watch the 6 o'clock news uninterrupted
does he throw a tight spiral
does he know all the tsn stats and all the acronymic sport terms
what is a man

#660 atop the freezer, atop the world

remember the you that longed to see the top of the fridge
the mystery and magic in a place viewed by only adult eyes
occupied by only pens and change

remember the pinball machine in your stomach
as an adult hoisted you up, up in the air
and for precious seconds
you spied
the magic and the mystery

if you don't remember
try harder
for the sake of your self now
for the sake of your self then
for the sake of young people today

for beyond just pens and change
above the freezer exists,
all the mystery of childhood

#659 elastic bedsheet

i will protect you and cherish you
i'll warm your side of the bed and spread the elastic bedsheet
whether you wear my small ring or not
i will love you
i'll love you so much it will hurt me some days
but love and pain have always been friends
to avoid pain is to ignore love knocking on your front door
i will exhale easy beside you each night
because that is happiness
that is contentment

#658 for your thoughts

lowest odd denomination
they all make "sense"
perhaps we should call them something new,
coin a new term
trade five for a popular music band
and i'm done,
now that i've shared my two cents

#657 after the fact

and i read that rules are written after the fact in war
and i wonder, what about love
when are those rules written?
does the winner write them?
is there a winner?
perhaps there are two ever-changing sets of unwritten rules
which explains why love beats war
in the department of confusion

#656 unspoken

her body shows no signs of leaving the patio chair
one hand on her belly
looking out to the empty garden, nothing growing there
too tired to cry
too tired to sleep
a tired that sleep can't fix
behind her is a prairie house polluted with reminders
and a husband who just wants to move on
she sighs and her brain notices the sky
too beautiful
too big, too heavy

#655 discard

i am standing in the garbage truck's compactor
chewing my nails as space shrinks

okay i'm not
but i feel like my positivity is
everywhere, i see something i failed to do
or did wrong

everything around me is crumbling and falling apart
will my outlook be next

#654 "and what's from the earth"

a towel across the bottom of the door
green air clears up everything
a plate of treats is offered in rounds by the hostess
and in this apartment
i fail to see the harm
that we see in the media and the general public
i'm not even partaking of the herb, the gangha
but i see love and openness and people talking, really talking
the towel at the door filters
keeping smoke in
keeping hidden agendas out

#653 berry patch roots

i saw power
i'm surrounded by power
a dad that worked 9-5 for guys that disrespected him
worked to put groceries in the fridge and cupbords
and taught the power of satisfaction in a job well done
not taught with words but with life
i saw power
a mother who added water to the last bit of stubborn no-name ketchup
that clung to the plastic
she convinced it to come out
the night before grocery day
she added it to a huge hearty casserole built from nothing
i saw power
surrounded by brothers and a sister
who entertained each other with sticks and rocks
played in mud-piles and frog ponds
who shared 1 tv, and twice as may channels
i saw power
a grandmother who managed stairs without knees
after a life of ten kids and 50-plus grandkids
a life overflowing with love and empty of money
success wasn't a fat pay cheque
success was being proud of yourself and your actions when you humbled yourself each night at the foot end side of the bed
and happiness was knowing your family was alive and safe
i saw power
a big brother who paved roads through puberty and insecurity
and managed to remember us all through his teenage years
through the dark high school years
then decades later returned to finish what was started
i saw power
brothers who stayed home in the dark to avoid the scary light of society
grow up to be teachers and speakers and managers
managing the fear looking back from the mirror
i saw power
a brother
growing up picked on and kicked on who wouldn't tell
who found empathy for his abusers, explanations and justifications
who believes in justice every tic of every toc on every clock
i saw power
a sister
small in size, mammoth in character
who grew up behind five boys
a sister who, broke pine, steps tall, front of the line
i saw power
another grandmother
who lived a life of devotion and sacrifice
who loved knowing details of the lives of her kids and theirs
i saw power
a grandfather
who invented flyswatters made out of 3-owner thin shoe souls
who had no thing but new he didn't have "nothing"
married a english teacher who understood that two negatives make a positive
meaning, no matter how many bad things, if you stayed even, it was all good
a grandfather who found in everything, a reason to whistle
because happiness was a berry patch full of berries and empty of noise
i saw power
i'm surrounded by power

#652 a life on the rocks

i lived my life with boo's
boo's at my attempts to rise above the life around me
but somehow, now my life is filled with booze

#651 noise

turn the car radio off
listen to the silence
if it's too loud
deal with the noise in your head

turn off the tv and do some quiet thinking
avoid the temptations
of talking and smoking and drinking

just sit
breathe
be

#650 21 varieties

21 varieties of pasta sauce
really?
21 i disagree with Ford's opinion of black
but 21 varieties is excessive
lined up with labels and logos smiling at me in the ultra-bright aisle
21 varieties of tomato sauce
most with unrecognizable ingredients
to help the contents last forever
and to taste more like pasta sauce than pasta should

#649 mash potatoes and snow

requiem for childhood
when toys were serious business
for when time was different
when recess was a staple
and bedtime story a given
when mashed potatoes were castles and train-tracks and tunnels
and snow was a welcome wonder
and childhood had its hard days
but i look forward to providing one

#648 perspective on a plate

a long day at work
but i arrive home to a fresh hot meal
problems evaporate
turn invisible and move away
a peck on the cheek that is both habitual and meaningful
her smile shatters the downward spiral of my thoughts and everything starts over
fresh

#647 losing each other

friends and drinks and laughs around a warm kitchen table
music and teasing and eating
guitars and drums and harmonicas appear
memories, old and new
and then someone turns off the stereo and shouts
cab's here, let's go to the bar

#646 99 and 44/100

wash
scrub
there is not enough water in the municipal tank
to rinse this feeling down the drain
with sore skin
i find my towel
contaminate it with my body and my thoughts
the mirror catches me
i exit

#645 classic

two lines, parallel, separated by inches
stretch ahead of my skis
to the bend in the trail
a trail rooved by an archway of evergreen and cottonwood
speckled with stars
as a few flakes meander to the ground
inside my fleece is sweat
from burning off the stresses of the day
but those are gone from me now
and i am here
in this moment
arms pumping skis sliding
in this moment, minutes don't exist
because time, time forgets herself

#644 thank you

how lucky i am
to be this sad
only months
but so connected
so many stories
told and untold
and now i pull out of the parking lot
the last time
and i'm so sad
tears fill my eyes
how lucky i am to be this sad

#643 heartwood

the life you see on the outside
is because something died on the inside
tears come easier with age
christmas is a time for heavy memories

#642 in dreams

like smoke gripped by fists
last night's dreams sneak through fingers
and a part of me says pay more attention
but here i sit, typing this poem
there is something to dreams
not always direct
but a way to meet the various characters in me
that make me, me
so now i have a notebook and pencil on the bedside table
ready to scribble clues to night-stories

#641 frech fries

we lie on the hungover living room floor
french fries on a cookie sheet
three on the hide-a-bed, one on each couch, and six on the floor
the room was hot and the smell was stale
in my mind i haul my body up
but it's just a dream
and movement in the waking world wait's until eleven

#640 adventitiously

i mix and rearrange letter-tiles
waiting for words and high-points to appear
but i've got all vowels
the tired tiles are against me
i'm tired of single-digit scores
and then
the tiles on the board
the tiles on my block
conspire with my fortune

#639 after the interview

now fate lies in the hands of another
i procrastinate Time
busying my life with chores used to being avoided
even my tupperware drawer is organized
then i checked to make sure the phone-jack was ok and the ringer was turned on
still un-still, i wait

#638 beer caps and broken glass

eyes closed
hips move
music pumps over the bar floor
for now they forget
how boring their lives are

#637 in the night

sleep crowds my brain
dream-visions swim from ear-to-ear
familiar objects and common people
in new and uncommon ways
the pillow adjusted my brains reality
twisted up in the blanket
plays out as a hostage-taking
and real or not, it's real

#636 "porn speaks to its splintered legions"

what is the difference between a writer and a novel writer
the audience's ratio of reading to thinking?
what is the role of the poet
to introduce the mundane to the universal?
for whom/what does a poet write
self, reader, the work, the craft?

#635 bumblebees vs rats

in his head
bumblebees fight against rats
he is the man you avoid eye contact
something is switched inside his head
and then life events compounded the complication
and now he staggers by storefronts
cursing Michael and the other angels

he's smart
he knows his head is not right
and he's adjusted his life to avoid overthinking truths
and sometimes he's fine
but he experiments, learning how society treats its least fortunate members
and how do you stay sane
when you learn the answer

#634 a blob in the driveway

eye level snowbanks fill the middles of the streets
logical according to city hall thinking
walking is faster than driving
because the car is a buried blob of virgin white
and how will you get the snowbrush from the backseat
without snow spilling onto the seat
a challenge for another time

#633 a watched pot

i can see the bubbles rising to the top
from the stainless steel bottom
before now, boredom is all there was to see
these few bubbles are turning to more
and steam
anticipation of the surface breaking
of a rolling boil
a recycled waterfall gone mad

#632 tall snowbanks

i am indoors
under my heavy blanket, with my matching thoughts
cozy as the single-shovel path up to the red door
illuminated by a single lantern-style light
my mug is in the cupboard
but no worry
hot chocolate is a state of mind

#631 40+cm

friends fall in and out of life like seasons
i stand in snow up to my waist, imagining the yard in summer
i love all my friends and all the seasons
it's the time between seasons, that bullies my soul
cold and wet and sloppy outside
i stay inside in a house full of my own thoughts
but then spring comes, time for yards and gardens
and summer, play and late days
fall, hiking and reflection
winter, diving in snow banks

#630 a thank-you to fanatics and extremists

in a world full of fence-sitting and compromising and political correctness
where mediocrity is the norm
and passion is a word heard more often for soap operas than seen in life
change would be even slower without you
i envy your energy and passion
your absence of doubt in distinguishing wrong from right
i disagree with most of your actions
but in your conviction and effort, there are lessons for us all
in human potential

#629 volume control

behind a teenage door, she loses herself inside her earbuds
all the teachers and the parents and the rules
unheard for a moment
overpowered by music
the modern day cabin in the woods
a place of refuge, away from it all

from the latest heavy metal
to matt anderson's acoustic version of the boss
her soul's on fire inside her with a bad desire
young enough to wonder if she can change the world
old enough to know daddy can't fix everything

between songs

the deafening sound of the world failing
she turns up the volume

#628 mothers and daughters

we're both outside for fresh air
i never met him before
but we end up chatting
a girl walks by
tall, well-dressed, confident
the click of her high-heels fades ahead

he grins at me, i'd tap that for sure, wouldn't you?
i look at him
he waits for a response
sure, i'd tap "that"
i'd tap that four times
except i wouldn't call her "that"
i'd call her "her"
as a compliment
because she's part of the half of our race
usually responsible for mothering and nurturing
the beautiful gender
and each one of them is unique
some are tough and some are mean and some are "plump"
and as a gender, beautiful

i'd tap her alright
i'd tap her on the shoulder and thank her for being a beautiful confident woman
an inspiration to young girls around her
a weight i don't understand

i'd tap her brain for a while and find out what she thinks
of this society that disrespects her, objectifies her, under-appreciates her
and while she was answering, i'd bite my lip, until it bled
so i wouldn't be a typical, but unnoticed thing in our society
a man interrupting a woman

i'd tap into her knowledge as a confident-looking woman
in a world that is so often against her
in a world that jams her feet into unhealthy, high-heels
so she can fit into what we call "beautiful"
but while fashions come and go
women persevere
oh you mean, would i have sex with her
no
i wouldn't
because i found a woman who is special to me among them
and while i find the girl you're talking about physically attractive, i don't know her
and sex with her would risk the best things i have in my life
no
i would have to not like myself very much, to have sex with her
because i have a beautiful woman in my life

i want to say all this, but i don't
instead, the most i can say is nothing

#627 x&y

i am in a foreign land
where i misunderstand everything
the harder i try
the more i offend the locals
the language, the traditions, the expectations
using the washroom, cooking supper, laying down
all hazards
i seek to understand
not to offend
but i must relax soon
the human body was not meant for a perpetual state of fear
or maybe it was

#626 the dog can wait

he ignores the dog barking
(referred to as "the doorbell")
turning perspiration into inspiration
knowing that the Perspiration-Inspiration Trail
is not a loop, but an out and back
that he will do everyday
and just as the hiker's muscles will improve
grow defined and strong
so will his sentences
and the fresh air of the everyday walk
breathes health into his mental well-being
puffing up the needle on his happiness scale

#625 "hold it high"

more than fashion
more than red plastic
a poppy is a symbol of all that we have and take for granted
worn over the left chest, the heart
a poppy is dead ancestors we never knew
a poppy is a thank you for our fortunate place in time and geography
a thank you to anyone serving in our military, then and now and ever

#624 octogenarians

like a child's teddy forgotten
familiar turns to old, used up
our elders sit on shelves for show
useless
no reason to wake up
lack of purpose pushes them back to childhood
where faces change generations
and generations change faces
and they find their own teddies

#623 fourth stair from the bottom

in a house full of
visitors and brothers and sisters and tv's and parents and more
where he shared a room with two more
but there was one spot
that became a room when he sat
a room away from it all
where the world forgot about him
where he could see no one and hear everyone
where he could observe, unbothered

#622 sometimes, the first symptom is death

entering the last class of the day, he smiles
says hi to his friends and takes his seat
after school, he says goodbye and walks home
writes a note and leaves it on the kitchen table for his mom
then he goes to his parents closet
pulls out the rifle

#621 easier said

stay ahead of Fear
let it push you

tackle fears ahead of Fear
so Fear's efforts will help you

if Fear was a train
sit on the cowcatcher

when Fear does get ahead of you
change tracks

aim at another fear
while Fear visits the first one

manipulate Fear, he's a jerk that deserves it
welcome Fear, he can offer help

Fear is a neon sign flashing,
Opportunity

#620 stunted carrots

outside, rain falls like rain
inside, the writer struggles like a struggling writer
unique ideas hide like similes
then, a phrase as fresh as the taste of grit from a stunted garden carrot
and the writing bursts, like a paper-bag green tomato turned red

he wonders now, looking up to the window, if the frost didn't kill everything worthwhile
if the harvest isn't finished
if he isn't watering a dead garden
and outside, the rain falls like rain
inside, the write struggles like a struggling writer

#619 hour time together

the clock's tic pulls my attention
first my ear, then my eye, then my thoughts

she is the second hand, i am the minute
she charges around, lapping me 60 times an hour
my cautious, stealth pace

and as we do our our life
as we eat our suppers, check-mark our to-do lists, answer our phones
the hour hand, unnoticed advancement in any one glance
speeds in its unnoticeable march
in its war against Forever

#618 pink pearl

Touching the delete key using the soft end of the eraser saying that was my fault

These are not failures

but choices toward improvement

toward leaving the world a better place than what you found it

These are small successes, single stitches and single rows in the afghan of bigger successes

Use your eraser

And do not hide your erasing, curled behind your other arm, hovered over by your self-conscious body

Let people see you rubbing the beautiful pink rubber along the potential-filled

#617 give me music, give me words

listening to a new song, my mind is occupied
by sound and by lyric and by the combination
there is beat
and there is a voice beaten by experience
the voice speaks more than words
tension and release
an up and a down
a building, a crescendo
a sense of closure
whether a door slammed
or a light dimming
and those seconds of silence
after the sound, but part of the music

#616 manufactured moments

photos run through a field
wondering when they lost purpose
meaning is forgotten a word in a dead language
they save screens but not specialness of moments
zip and 'shop
cut and crop

#615 lazzzzy

so easy to skip
go to bed
so tired
just one day
soo tired

#614 no green bananas for Ida, please

he prolongs his bath
procrastinating what comes next
in the room down the hall is his mother, Ida
you don't know her

he stares at a bubble
knowing he will have to help her go to the bathroom
watch her cry as she realizes, again
you're my son, not my father

he unplugs the tub and rises, as slow as his mother
reaches for a towel for his naked body
watching the bubble
listening to the gurgle and swirl
water circling drain

#613 quicksilver

truth is as malleable as mercury on a kitchen counter
let it pass between your fingers
shape it as you will
when it hardens you cannot change the truth
until you change the environment, the temperature
truth...
the word, the concept, the syllable
is a golden lie
a silver conceit
a title we give the story we invent through life
life is a story invented to make sense of our inventions

#612 "now i'm a believer"

no more 2-4's from the LCB
no more sleeping in until a late lunch
not since i met her face
the face that whispers
i believe in you too much to believe you
your words like "can't" or "impossible"

i used to be an okay guy, a nice guy
sliding through life
enjoying myself
then i met her face
and good enough wasn't always good enough anymore
no more monster hangovers
back in the day all i had to face was the mirror
and i could and i did
now i face her face
a mirror that reflects the man she thinks i can be
a great man
and i don't know if i can
but as long as her face keeps believing
i'll keep trying

#611 TP

what does it say about a country
if their native population is stereotyped
as stupid addicts
what does it say about a country
if the native culture
is dishonoured
let us think again
without blaming others
let us recognize that something is wrong
something we all need to fix

#610 "nothin"

offered a toke at recess, he accepts
but coughs like a newbie
just as Taylor, the girl he likes, walks by

in science class, Mr Taylor gives him the test he skipped on friday
then, a good friend having a bad day, is sent to the office
the friend is already on "last warning"

on the way home
he realizes his pockets are out of smokes
and out of money

he opens the fridge
empty
and his Mom asks, "what happened at school today"

#609 funeral announcements in heaven

caroline? lillian? veronica?
where are you, did you stay in the kitchen
caroline? lillian? veronica?
i need you here
caroline? lillian? veronica?
no more p'tatoes to boil, let your gnarled hands rest
let your buckled knees sleep
come to bed with me
sit on the backyard swing
and listen to the radio dryer
i'll turn it up to hear gus announce
who'll be coming next for sunday dinner

#608 kenneth

those who don't go by them, refuse to share them
a secret for many
a road, a life
not taken?
an alternate identity unexplored?
worse in our mind than others
just a few letters, one word, maybe two
still
we refuse to share

#607 october 26, 6:30 a.m.

the dog sighs from her bed
my mind agrees
the heater fights the outside's cold rain
this morning is a tea morning
colder days are yet to come
but this feels colder than many will
adjusting to the loss of warmth
in five months, a 10 degree day will bring t-shirts
today, hats and mitts and wool sweaters
this morning
slurping my tea, i save my words and think my thoughts,

#606 welcome winter

the snow line shows a different world
a world i cannot believe will be here in weeks
good-bye grey and wet
hello white and clean
i'm ready

#605 i confess to all mighty gods

if i eat the bread but not the lie
will i go to your hell
which, i might add
makes more entertaining television than your heaven

and you who drink the weekly wine
but ignore the wino at your streetcar stop
and yell at your kids for whining when your patience is short
but wear your smile up the big concrete steps
to your fancy room of "worship"
where will you go after this life?

#604 14 and 1/2

his parents worry and question
which add to his withdrawal from life
and like teens over the last few generations
he finds solace in dark music and dark colours and dark emotions
he fights happy childhood memories
because they make him sad
carry him to an edge where he fears the wind will blow him off

#603 "weary, feeling small"

i've followed the expression cross that bridge when you come to it
for too long
now i face a web of bridges that all require crossing at once
a giant ball of knots
some are suspended, some are large, some even spiral
so many, i can't see the other side of the Paul and Art's River
my head is full of dark and heavy
please
ease my mind

#602 iPhoto

i look at the high school photo
my eyes are grabbed by the skinny boy on the right
his eyes say the whole world is watching me
his hands are clasped behind his back
as though he is a team coach of athletes, not one of a group of friends
i want to scream at him
stop being serious
relax
you won't even be in touch with these people in 5 years
but i know he will finish his high school years feeling out of place
i know this because i was him

#601 morning mourning

i missed the funeral by a day
the plane ticket was too expensive
visited this grave each of the five mornings since

each day i stared at this grass
inviting grief
today is the first day i cried

today i noticed the grass was cut
the image of a gas-powered lawnmower
(ride-on or push?)
running over her again and again
for four laps
brought tears and snot and choking sounds

#600 a vroom of one's own

i want to feel a cliched wind on a cliched open highway
to read pirsig and feel he's talking to me
i want to stop at a roadside tavern and bring my helmet in with me
to stop, on the shoulder, open my tool-bag, and solve some mechanical problem
i want to idle under an overpass and read a map while waiting out a rain
to ride past a long line of angry commuters to board the ferry
i want to meet another leather jacket, separated by a yellow line
to pass and to receive, the secret-wave

i don't need a harley or a ducati
just one i can call my own

#599 staring at a gold ring

there is a red-head somewhere in the world that stays in his head
he remembers, not every day,
but days like today
and he wonders where she is now
still in the big city?
still tough and vulnerable?
still single?
years after they last stood face to face
he remembers hers just as well
and he wonder
does she think of me?

#598 a promise named noose

how can i stay here

my sins are on my head like a hat

my neighbours fall into two groups

those who point and then insult

those who avoid eye contact and then whisper

every road sign, every radio song, everything says leave

except my word

i told her i'd stay

and so i'm here

don't feel bad

i own the insults and the whispers

my sin was a one-moment mistake

but it was My mistake

#597 workshops and editing

like a song brought to the band
he thought it was perfect
ready for sharing
he wasn't ready for the wheelbarrow full
of suggestions, opinions, complaints
but what hurt the most
they were right
eventually he separated himself from the puddle on the floor
and went back to work

#596 let us stay in this time, this place

in the name of childhood
let trash-can lids be my shields
and broom-stick handles be my swords
that cooking-pots protect my head and my life
as i protect yours

in the name of childhood
you in your tin-foil tiara
and bed-sheet gown trimmed with lace
i'll be your day, i'll be your knight
the only evil, is a dragon
such is childhood, so black and white

#595 hallowed be thy mane

your back faces my front
hands fill with prurience
needing and kneeding your exposed shoulder
limbs and moans
warm sweat and flushed flesh
your face
spasms, begs
your mane, spreads every direction
until
the collared gentleman facing us says
...forgive us our trespasses as we forgive...

#594 the smell of sulphur

dry grass and pine needles
small twigs
bigger twigs (all dry)
and the magic ingredient, birch bark

alone in the woods
out of parents' sight
i dig the matchbook from my pocket
read its grocery store slogan, where community lives

i tug out a single match
strike it, below my nose
savour the burning smell of sulphur
then, birch bark crackles my excitement out loud

then the grass and needles
the twigs, big and small

and i stare at the jar of gasoline
stolen from the shed

you can label me arsonist
but i don't trust people who say they never played with fire
the difference between us
is i slipped, i got caught

#593 handle with care

ever tempted to catch a falling knife?
perhaps it was your hand laid her in her precarious position on the kitchen counter's edge
your absent-mindedness left her forgotten there
and your thigh that bumped her
into her fall

but don't reach!
ignore your impulse to reach out, to help, to save
wait
let the knife hit the floor first
flesh is more sacred than linoleum

#592 December 25th 7:45 am, faking surprise

basements are a great addition to childhood
playgrounds of imagination mixed with limited supervision
a world of pirates and dragons and tickle-trunks
treasure hunts enjoyed in dim magical lighting

one boy playing a reality treasure-hunt
searching for the loot that makes christmas christmas for kids
shining and new
this is the boy's first year in on The Secret
revealed by Mother two months before
he stands on the camping duffelbag and slides the plastic top off the faded orange cooler
he discovers the jackpot
his wish-list's #1 item atop stocking-stuffers
page #102 in Sears Wish Book
he stares, then jerks the cover back over
climbs down
wishing he could forget what he saw

and the basement lighting seems bare and ugly

#591 finding home again

a place for exhaling and flopping
for recharging
a safe place to be me
a building with walls
a town with familiar smiles
these things yes, and something more
something inside me
alive and relaxed

#590 drowning anxiety

and the red wine pulls you by invisible leash
your safe friend at a party
as the red touches your lips, you relax
comfortable in your discomfort that makes you human
ready to join the masses

#589 we are both

some things should be clear
but it wasn't
so we didn't get to say goodbye
no words, no hugs, nothing
and we're kept apart by people in uniforms and their silly rules
are we numbers on a paper
or are we people

#588 innies and outies

you think the world is built for you
then something happens
proves you are as important as naval lint
you are rolled between the world's fingers, flicked, forgotten
yet, you must go on
must search for meaning from your random landing place
and remove the random

#587 "And that man comes on the radio"

the sound of satisfaction
is the sound of a beer k'chih-ing open
after hard healthy labour
wiping my brow with a sweaty forearm
sun making even the beer sweat

#586 questions i can't ask

how are you now
how do you feel about your life
do you regret smoking it away
do you regret your angry teenage actions
do you know how they hurt those who looked up to you
do you feel the best years are to come
feel like calling me as much as i do you
ask the questions you can't ask

#585 blind love

i was 11
i told her about how kittens' eyes
stay closed for a week or two

the way she looked at me
respecting my intellect
like i was something

my feelings for her were confused
i knew they were wrong and scourged myself at night
alone beneath bedsheets

but still
the memory of her eyes
reminded me of kittens eyes in the third week

and i was blind to my innocence
as blind as a kitten

#584 me plus twenty

i'm trying to make amends with my 11 year-old self
but he's not speaking to me
hasn't said a word in years
can't even look me in the eye without disappointment
won't yell at me or kick me or call me names
just stares
disappointed and angry

#583 channel 88

popular voices seep into my ears from the screen
and i forget
forget what 10 year-old me demanded of adult me
forget my potential
forget my responsibility
as recipient of the gift called time
that i squander in front of the stars

#582 a lonely harmonica

a lonely sound like the harmonica
unites people in their loneliness
in barrooms and bedrooms
and the more loneliness the musician taps and shares
the more united the audience in loneliness
and when the last chord finishes pushing through air and ear canals
the loneliness felt, expressed
can be left until next time

#581 haiku haiku

first you start with 5
then find 7 syllables
last, you end with 5

#580 nature haiku

trees are you's and me's
also, they hold our answers
back-of-mind questions

#579 go time

i'm not ready
prepared is not in my vocabulary today
i feels like everyone else is here to succeed and to mock me
every giggle and stare is meant for me
i'm not ready
stop the world, i want to get off
stop

okay
let's do this

#578 garbage day

i am in the compacting section of a garbage truck
things once nice, and useful
are now offensive smelling junk
the light overhead shrinks as a wall closes in on me
making me one with the stuff the world cast aside
my screams cease
useless over the screech of metal and the slow crunch of trash

#577 memories with cousins

drinking from a creek in a push-up position
daring each other to test the electric fence
jumping from the bridge after blind man's bluff
nights out in the backyard, camper or tent
sneaking berries from the garden
or carrots with a delicious hint of dirt
spontaneous ball games
cards on rainy days, go-fish

#576 time

how do i have so much time now
i slowed down
i'm doing less
but getting more done
less hectic, more satisfaction
less to-do, more doing

#575 12-paned mirrors and mulligans

12 panes
12 pains
last night's choice reflected
12 times, the pain reflected
some people make bad choices
but the world lets them off
the etch-a-sketch of life and decisions is shaken clear
the i promise i'll never, is granted
this mirror tells me 12 times
i am not on that list this morning

#574 gold chalice

at what point will the catholic voice stop speaking in my mind
chastising and self-judging
you are not welcome
i am imperfect
i am good
take your gold chalice and go somewhere you'll impress
your time and effort is wasted in my mind

#573 sunny early october day

a month of rain frays the spirit
but last night the sky changed colours
bright blue with a ball of light
this is what we needed after rain rain and more rain
we will walk outside with as few layers as possible
indoor jobs will procrastinate themselves
hats and and mitten and knitted socks will stay in cardboard boxes
for an extra little bit
and when winter knocks
we will be ready to open the door

#572 perspective or not

the nicer she is too other people
the meaner she is to me
a tough week equals lots of public smiles
and even more life-hurtful words
and even in perspective
these accusations seem harsh
but i'm not in perspective
and they sound mean and rude and spiteful
and after years of doubting
i've learned we'll get through this and find happy moments again
but still
harsh words hurt

#571 black and white

i'm a white man
educated and middle class
and i'm gonna stop apologizing
start recognizing
the things that come my way
'cause the colour of my epidermis
'cause of what i got
not
between my ears or caged in my ribcage
but between my legs
no not my mind or my heart
but because of another part
that only half of us got
the jobs
the weight on my words
the habit of interrupting
priveledge or right
some things ain't right
i'm a white man
and i won't say i'm sorry
'cause what is my story
i can walk down any torontonian street
not worry about getting raped
by that big guy who looks like that's how he gets his
i'm a white man
i've got things i didn't even realize i was receiving
because the world can be deceiving
hiding the truth behind the 4 star resorts, statistics, and the dark of the night
the throne speech is spoken to me
i'm a white man
i vote, got money, got schoolin'
or should i say schooling
i don't hide my low self-esteem under an overpriced hat
not a victim of societal lies
my belt lies not at my thighs
at my waist
my waste is not knowing what i got or how or where to use it
i'm a white man
don't feel bad for me
i'm the overpriveleged you see
i don't call my guy friends the N-word, or the B-word
to steal back my power that history stole from me me through my ancestry
i'm a white man
if i succeed,no person will say, congratulations, you're a tribute to your race
race what race?
the races are in life and i had a 2 hour head start that no one told me about
my athletic accomplishments are not followed by, especially for a woman
i'm a white man
living in a white man's world
doesn't mean i suffer
but it doesn't mean i like it
say what you want
i'm a white man

#570 uncool poet tries street verse

Have my heart but don't halve my heart
I wanna court you, cavort with you
Support you and sport you
Care for you, carry you
Want you to need me, and you to kneed me
Touch my skin, touch my soul
Help me out of the hole, and help me feel whole
All this and more, just let me be your
Let me have you, just let me have you

#569 a lesson from Lexi

as a kid
i spent hours searching through good clover to find one with four leaves
now
i look at my furniture and wish it was more expensive
then i feed the dog
brown kibble
again
for the 5000th consecutive meal
and her excited tail beats the floor

#568 do you know where your children are?

black eyes and bloody knees
all things i hope happen to my kid
and hope never happen to my kid

why, as they walk out the door,
do we choose the words be careful
why not take risks

though bubble-wrapping our kids
and 100% supervision are tempting
i fear the consequences

#567 white paper on hardwood floor

stories fall together on a floor
piles form
and with the piles, new stories
common connections, common themes, common images
paper-clipped together
chapters form
old memories build new ideas for new stories

#566 My Spirit and Danny's Hip Bones

All feels broken

The law cracked my spirit

Killed my motivation to belive in good

Danny's desk stands empty

The Ruler sits atop the scene, doing nothing

Danny was smacked dead by a car

The car had too many drinks

The driver ran away

Until he was found

The law raped my spirit

I heard his truth change by steps, as the true story was revealed

The young man received 60 days house arrest, his parents' house
While Danny received a lifetime of house arrest, his cramped new bachelor suite
And the car
Still drives the main street
Up and down
Up and down
Free

#565 childhood memories

the field was full my last visit
now it is nothing but one shade of brown
no flowers, no grass, no life
and i wonder
from where will the next 500 come

#564 staring at my bicycle

cinnamon and white sugar on evening toast
a new snack to us
special
and i haven't made it in decades
but the thought, the thought of the taste
yanks me backward through time
and i am there
and she pays attention to me
talks to me like i'm more than just a dumb kid
and the memory lives somewhere between my hair and my neck
though i struggle to understand the reason
when i can't remember this combination lock that i bought just two weeks ago

#563 overwaitea

i saw an acquaintance at the store
and became aware of my heart, the organ
tight
constricted
the man was nice
i just do that
irrational fear
hyper-perception and evaluation of each word
after it falls from my mouth
then in the car, alone with my negative self-talk
i replay the encounter
and scourge myself for stiffness and awkwardness
and then i get home
over the fence, i see my garden gnome
smiling
because i'm home
me
and i'm okay again

#562 the gnome and me

my garden gnome greeted me as i opened the gate
stood up cheery, said Hello, and kissed me on the cheek
she wore an autumn sweater under a down vest
she had been encouraging the tomatoes to ripen
and tugging at grass and weeds as she did so
she walked in the house with me
and now she's fixing pasta sauce
oh, and did i mention
i'm marrying her

#561 he's back

a buzz
44 eyes alive
eyes riveted
butts bouncing
text books open
and forgotten
his first they-get-it! moment
in too long

#560 man's best friend

goodbye Sorrow
we had some times
now i ease you into this hole
beneath our favourite tree
years from now
someone will read the stake and wonder
who we were
RIP Sorrow 1990-2004

#559 persistent depression

i talk out my problems
i run to stay healthy
eat well
and i see dog hair on the floor

i've swept floor the last 15 days, consecutive
brush bags of hair from the source
vacuum
but still, it appears

#558 reflecting on time

here i stand
in front of a paned mirror
pained
a clock on the wall in front of me
because of the clock on the wall in behind me
i remember watching my father shave
wishing the years away until it was me
i remember mother cutting my hair
wishing the minutes away so i could go with friends
and i think on life

how i watched the second hand
hop one babystep at a time
with long pauses between
mocking my impatience
and all the while
the hour hand flew
imperceptible for its steady speed
and now i sit
unshocked by the white on my head
and below the clock
my son stares at the razor in my hand

#557 one, two, three...

the night before the night before
is when i get my sleep
the night before is a long-shot gamble
and the odds increase when expectation and need is lowered
still, ceiling-staring is often the effect
and "night before" the cause

#556 weighty words

there is a weight that travels with many road partners
authority
height
position
confidence
and we listen to these people
their words lowering our scales further than the words of others
call it bias
call it stereotyping
but we all do it
and if you say you don't
i call you a liar

#555 ground hockey

my eye is 7 years old
and hurts
a lot
a puck hit my eye
there is no blood
and i can see good.
Mike and Tavis and Sandy (the older neighbourhood guys)
they're impressed I'm not crying
so i'm smiling
even though my eye hurts, a lot.
but Sandy high-fived me
and Tavis has his arm around my shoulders
and Mike's holding my stick
and i'm cool.
i try for this moment everyday.
if i knew all it took was a puck in the eye
i would have tried goalie long ago.

#554 grampy

i don't remember him talking
not much anyway
just watching from the corner of the kitchen
or from the backyard swing
sharpening the chainsaw
smoking
adjusting the radio

and doing grandfather things with me
digging worms and fishing
gardening
picking berries
playing cards

now he lives
but i only have clues and guesses of when and how
in my mum's thoughtful gazes
in our family's thing for music
in a field of blueberries
in a worm on a hook

#553 incompetent swordsmanship

i slayed the dragon
crossed the moat,
knelt on one knee
and handed the princess my flower
your flower is wilted, said she
and critiqued my swordsmanship

head down,
i left the castle
searching for a new quest
another dragon
another flower
another chance

#552 when i'm gone, heartbreak hotel

all the songs speak of us
us now and us then
the lyrics and the melodies
when will someone write a song about something new?
something not Me and You?
elvis and eminem
they all knew us
i could use the lyrics
to prove it in court
i just wonder
how i never noticed before

#551 order switch

cheese and macaroni
jam and peanut butter
meatballs and spaghetti
pepper and salt
women and many
gentlemen and ladies
lightning and thunder
home and house
groove and tongue

#550 it has ben a pleasure serving you, now it's our turn

we're sorry. we're sorry, we are currently experiencing higher than normal call volume. please wait for the next available agent

but here's the problem:
they've played this rcording the last four times i called
and here's the bigger problem
we put up with it
sure we complain
but we do nothing
allowing business and policy to hold scepter over our everyday lives
we write science fiction about machines taking over the world
but we don't see the irony in listening on hold on one machine
as another machine speaks an apologetic script

#549 stolen moment

a candle and a laundry basket and silence
except for the washer on rinse cycle
she stares at the fingernail-size flame
her thoughts on hold
watching the fire sway and jump and bow
a mental to-do list forgotten
for an extra ordinary oasis
a mind relaxed
a soul at ease
then reality returns
as the washer jump-thumps-jump-thumps
she hops to her feet
blows out the light and rushes to the appliance

Will Be Skipping a Couple of Days (Camping and going to Ben Harper)

#548 wrestling to win

Judd and Nelson, fused by a nelson into

one creature

a creature of arms, and legs, and sweat

beautiful

repulsive

the desk riffraff watch from armchairs
the wannabees cheer from gymnasium bleachers
But Judd and Nelson are
one half of a larger whole

The desk riffraff watch TV’s from chairs

Others watch from gymnasium bleachers

But Judd and Nelson are one half of a larger whole

One the blade and the other the full haft of an aristotelean knife

Judd scoops a calf

relinquishing a neck

The ring is a flacon

Warm breath mixes with sweat and the salty canvas

There can be just one winner

But both competitors walk away better men

#547 a band-aid and children's glue

i judged her

the arc shape of an egg is the strongest shape in existence
when pressed just right, the egg will withhold incredible force
but for all that bravado, the egg is as fragile a thing as nature has produced

i judged her as 29-year old white trash
but inside was an 8 year-old girl
whose trust was perverted by
a grandfather who hated himself
a child, forced to do adult things
skip childhood instead of rope
play with genitalia instead of dolls
climb into adult beds instead of children's treehouses

her self-esteem is an empty eggshell broken into three-hundred pieces
held back together with a band-aid and children's glue
Judgement
a temptation for fools and idiots

#547 lament for family lost

wily red hair and voice weathered by ancient ocean
he is the voice of michael, providing reason and meaning
he sits on a stool, attached to his guitar by a plain leather strap
his eyes are closed and maybe watery

he'll finish the set
and accept a pint from a patron
and stare into his glass
a sad crystal ball
he'll go home to no one and cry for himself
and for Mary's Michael
he'll remember his child
and the small free bird's fall

#546 "our freedom's a joke, we're just taking a piss"

i used to have bright eyes
now my inner voice is as chipper as Oberst
if you think you leave in a free country
try the nearest border crossing
better yet, try with a sense of humour
and why?
to keep the bad guys out?
to eliminate smuggling?
and so we release our rights
and wonder what's left
knowing something's wrong
and i pretend i'm different because i write
sure there's fire in my eyes
like a digital fireplace
a screensaver of virtual logs

#545 good men make tough decisions

go ahead
twist fact and rearrange truth
besmirch
pervert
omit the inconvenient and focus on the juicy
but at night
his pillow knows that he tried to make the world a better place
and all while you spewed your petty words

#544 time to gear down

in the dream i am learning to drive standard on a Rav4

i am driving town streets

at each stop sign i

exert myself to stop

but each time

i roll through

sometimes

at the 4way stops

i rarely miss hitting or being hit

other cars

i wake up

exhausted

#543 suntans around hemp-bracelet lines

clean nervous smiles step off the bus and into a magic loosely defined as "summer camp"

strange names surround and bad hair-days abound

songs are sung and rules sneaked in and games played

then bedtime

the stop

causes homesickness

but then wake-up and another full day

games and songs and friends and sunshine

and if not, puddle-jumping

sunburnt smiles and everyday flip-flops

campfire smoke and white rabbits

rare showers are the only alone time other than the toilet

the days pile up and there is one sleep left

homesickness returns

but this time in perspective

and greater than the homesickness

the procrastination of morning

the procrastination of mourning

#542 www.youtube.com/watch?v=F5QCs3PnQBc

she liked it

she really liked it

she was impressed

she smiled

she spoke to me

her hand touched my leg

her eyes tunneled into mine

and then she went home with me

on hiatus soon for a week

#541 like mumford

like mumford

my heart won't listen to my head

it thumps like rave music instead

breathing goes shallow

won't pick up the phone and say Hello

and it's all in my head

but that's all that needs to be said

for reality is not "out there"

reality is internal

and mine

an anxious inferno

#540 dear girl

i did not ask for this comment box

and i know these words were jotted to help

to improve

but they hurt

make me think of all i'm not doing

all i'm failing

they make me want to isolate and insulate

myself in the office

where the whispers don't hurt

aren't heard and so don't need to exist

i did not ask for this comment box

but i love you

please minimize your venting

and i will try to accomplish the suggestions

one or two at a time

be patient when i'm overwhelmed and grumpy

i want to be a man, a great man

i want to be your great man

but i did not ask for this comment box

#539 on reading lenord cohen

the old man does not try

to be deep or meaningful or sexy

but accomplishes all three

he lives a life of searching and living and doing

not unlike you and me

but as with you and me

he lives his own way

women and words and music

and a bruised-over heart

still worn on the exterior

#538 the cycle

and we start from two trying to become one

and then we become part of another

then, we leave their body

and are theirs for years

until we find someone to be one with too

#537 nothing new in the forecast

there is a dark cloud above me

sunlight all around

the cloud's been above me
for weeks
disguised as years

i've run and driven

stopped and hidden

is the cloud following me?

am i trying for escape?

or am i pursuing the cloud

and all it provides?

the blue horizon

like the cool kids in the cafeteria
offers a view, something to watch

but no sense of belonging

or being invited

#536 jealousy

callouses and dirty fingernails

an embarrassment to owners

but a point of jealousy for those who don't

for the people who sit in cushy office seats

staring out windows at the lives they imagine having given up

#535 don't do that...

SLOW CHILDREN PLAYING

reads the sign

and

knowing the mental ability

(or lack of)

that my neighbour's kids possess

(twerps)

i chuckle

wondering

am i the only ass that sees the humour?

#534 dirty cars

one day i had to wash the car

but of course i put it off

then i got a phone call

and had to file a form

and of course, i washed the car

then i saw my whatch-ya-ma-call-it was "overdue"

and knew i had to renew

and so i filed the form

and so my day went on and on

a perfect example of the usefulness of procrastination

aka "to-do list masturbation"

and the next day and the next week

and then i flipped a calandar page

and then another

and then another

and then i saw my poor dirty car

and added it to the list

and put it off until i washed it again

to put off something else

#533 me and the moon

a frozen night illuminated by nine tenths of a full moon

leaves mount fernie a ghost of its daytime self

and me illuminated by a forty watt bedside lamp

feel like a skeleton of my daytime self

spent

like a kid's dollar in a new candy shop

empty

like a chewed sucker-stick

i see the mountain

and i wonder how it achieves beauty

day and night

#532 wasted

self-pity and self-anger shroud me

and the hangover and last night's memories

refuse to help me

i stand here

at the bottom of an old-fashion well

daylight, sunshine

are visible, and close

but out of reach

and they feel miles away,

a different existence

and so i stare at the stale dark walls

not because i like them

but because looking up

hurts

#531 disposable corporate ethics

in a world where "customer service"

means "move out of the way of our paying customers"

and "value added" means an extra fee

where automated machines tell you every 2 minutes

how, "your call is very important"

and "warranty" means, "estimated time of break-down"

in a world where all these are everyday

isn't it brilliant to speak on the phone

with someone polite and useful

#530 moments

the moment as the parachute settles in grade 2 PE, exciting calm

the moment after the wave crashes before it recedes, the rocks tinkling out

the moment after a mother snaps a crisp new sheet above a bed, peace

your face right after a good kiss, saying your world is in front of you

#529 alone with the one you love

he wakes beside her

the one who fuels the hands on his clock to spin,

who provides his neural activity with meaning,

ignites his poems

but still,

he sleeps alone

#528 landmarks

the numbers are falling from the clockface

collecting by a teetering "6"

and i watch enough cnn

to wonder if the clock's fate is an apocalyptic warning

as another tornado claims lives

the hands keep spinning on their axes

though more numbers have fallen than not

a pile built by gravity

i think of my parents saying "turn left at the sullivans"

though there is no house there

hasn't been in forty years

i look at the clock again

and i know what time it is

#527 michelangelo's cartwheel (*accepted into "cartwheel")

in my dream, he returns

i am hitchhiking the trans-canada

and he cartwheels by

pauses, upside down

michelangelo's vitruvian man, inverted

i raise my arms, feel connected

we are a perverse reflection

each seeing the other as the mirror

frowns are smiles

smiles are frowns

he speaks words, life changing words

and i awake

scramble for a pen

and stare at a blank page

#526 bodies tick like clocks

pictures on walls tell a story of a woman who was

serious stares at serious photographers

young and black and white

older and grainy and colour

framed behind glass

hanging eye-level

soon to laid to rest in an attic

buried in corrugated oblivion

forgotten

until then, she wanders halls on wheels with other artifacts

baseboards built for the convenience of brooms

paint chosen to calm, to bore

lights chosen to reduce power bills and incidentally, the sense of home

weekly visits, obligatory

a room filled with photos and stuffies, and other silence-breakers

and visitors sit behind forced smiles

afraid that time will one day also leave them

forgotten

#525 running the loop

running
like treading water
but instead of water
stress and problems and to-do lists undone

i need to run, to stay afloat

#524 saying goodbye

like packing up a tent in the rain

fast temporary, unhappy

stuff it away

to deal with on a drier, cheerier day

sand that was welcomed yesterday

is heavy and wet and gross today

#523 of cars and rings and relationships

shiny and new

brilliant

then a nick

wet tears

followed by more nicks and scratches

now old and marked

unique

irreplaceable

#522 to remove a thistle

to remove a thistle

you need to grip below the thorns

to do this, you will get scratched

but at the root of the problem

the plant has no offense, but its attachment

to the earth around it

tug, reach lower

repeat

the spindly parsnip-like root will yield

to your persistence

are there any thorns that don't have gentle roots?

with roots that puncture hands?

#521 like a horse and carriage

goodnight to the man with the naked finger

goodnight from an older man with everything your young running shoes ran from

goodnight to independent decisions, unlimited

goodnight to no expectations but your own

goodnight to shaggy t-shirts and to sleeping off saturday morning hangovers

sleep well

i'll take my finger and its weight

i'll wear my wallabees and chuckle inside at your laughs

i'll say hello to decisions shared

to the suggestion box who sees the best man inside my sensible coat

and goodbye to weekly benders

#520 exit sandman

old friend forgotten

revisits at night

looking the same as ever

but behaviour altered

an old workmate,

angry at me over my choice of sandwich

an elementary classmate,

upset over where i planted a tree

my driving instructor,

yelling about spots on my dishes

i wake

unsettled

#519 why are you here?

i saw her in a bathing suit, and the thoughts started

i should have stopped them there, i know

but thoughts are mine, and thoughts are harmless

but they grew and grew in my head

like vetch and weeds in the neighbour's garden

and my thoughts took over my head

like the vetch and the weeds

they grew bigger, stronger, choking out the good ones

and instead of weeding out the garden

i pretended to love the weeds

i called their ugliness, beauty

called the perverse thorns, flowers

and that is why i am here

#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

#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

#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

#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

#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

#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

#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!

#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

#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

#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

#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