#856 the crybaby

she thinks her bruise is big
like a kid who thinks they're dying at the sight of their own blood
and we let her think it's a big deal
that we think she's tough
with her Ziplock baggie of ice and her Band-Aid

#855 Y

the ratio is wrong

to many mean nice words

beautiful phony smiles

no elegant behaviour to impress the other half

each word has hidden meanings

and feelings are something to stab before yours get stabbed

#854 upon cleaning the closet

no more clutter
no more floor-covering crumpled jeans
no more dust bunnies
no more mismatched socks
no more scraps of paper with scrawled to-do lists
no more
i cleaned the closet today
and promised myself to keep it tidy this time
again

#853 853

readers are impressed i have 853
that i wrote them all myself
writers are impressed i write one a day
that i share the ones that aren't ready
which impresses you more?

#852 dry clean only

two men, friends
not best friends, but good friends

the first, dressed sharp
expensive leather shoes
expensive watch
clothes pressed, no wrinkles

the second, dressed haphazard
faded t-shirt
jeans that don't see the washer until they show stains
mismatched socks worn threadbare

the clothes make the man the first man said
trying to be helpful
to offer advice he'd learned

the second man smiled
glancing at the juxtaposing attires
i think
the man makes the clothes
 






 

#851 overprotecting

boys
in push-up positions
drinking from the brook
the same brook where horses crap and algae grows
cold clear quenching water
they finish and sit by the brook
talking of whatever boys of that age
before girls dominate conversation
then they go back to the yard and find baseball gloves and a once orange hockeyball
they arrive in the kitchen for supper
hungry, home
and they grow up
healthy, happy

#850 self-injure or self-endure?

universes swell while jesus plays toilet tag in the alley
kids use mower blades as weapons
while Christians sit content in proper pews
toddlers ecstatic over someone else's trash
while towns and cities self-hypnotize in half hour segments
and i type a poem about the problems
like a helpless teen gently cuts her wrists
letting enough pain and pressure out to get through another day
but not enough to fix even one problem

#849 "rocking horse of time"

we all want release
some, like me, achieve it through tv
the ones have stories that can make a sax talk
do it through drugs
but we all seek release
from the feeling we don't belong
and maybe we're all right

#848 exterior

peel away your layers of paint
each added to hide something you didn't like
pressure wash
strip your walls to nothing
scrape if need be
then choose your colour
and apply

#847 objects and objections

waiting in the passenger seat
in a parking lot
i daydream, staring at the side mirror

i remember my first grey hair
but when did the salt first outnumber the pepper
i stare at my age
at my future

thinking of the life left in front of me
of my mortality
adds weight to the words on the mirror

my hand finds the handle
my should leans in to open the door
i stand up on the asphalt
stretch
walk around the front of the car
and get in the driver seat

#846 staying busy

the buzz of doing pushes me ahead of the dog of grief
biting at my heels
stopping is dangerous
but inevitable
and when stopping happens
i will be ripped to shreds

#845 canadian summer

sunscreen and sandal tan
pasta salad and lemonade
green grass and blue sky
barbecue and smoke from campfire
icing bright drinks and playing yard games
hot steering wheels and hands out car windows
scorching outdoor asphalt and cool indoor concrete
sand between toes and summer on your feet

#844 check

sweat and dirt mix on my skin
and feel great
a clean garage
a visible tangible result
each thing in its place
above a fresh-swept floor
my soul needed that

#843 relaxing before bed

eyes closed
i pinch the bridge of my nose
with thumb and index
trying to squeeze away all the to-do list items
i failed to accomplish today
like yesterday and the day before
but for my last few birthdays
a fact has been growing in front of me
tomorrows are a limited resource

#842 miner covered in coal dust

he is a ghost
the weight of colour tricks my eyes
the whites of his eyes glow and seem to float
not belonging to his black face
his black body
his black clothes

his eyes remind me of one of pac-man's retreating ghosts
traveling without body
the illusion causes a fear in me
a fear i stifle
a fear not unlike that of a toddler
seeing a parent dressed as a halloween vampire
he showers, removing the costume
no longer a ghost

#841 pausing

familiar chords massage my mind
lost in the lyrics i've been listening to on repeat
my attempt
at slowing down this world while i catch up with myself
the same lyrics speak to something different each time
the music has never met the clock
an hour passes without my awareness or permission
now i must press pause
and give myself to this world

#840 launching the collection

there comes a moment
when i must dissociate myself
and push with my beak
launch my small creation

watch my baby fall
but it is not my baby
just some collection of bones and feathers
for if i admitted it was my baby
i couldn't push it out of this tiny safe bowl of grass
unknown to the world

soar or splat
i will, with detachment
feel for the pile of feathers

and soar or splat, in time
i will admit and i will second guess
i will rejoice and i will grieve

#839 concentration

the shelf and its books invite me

tempting me away from the keys and the screen and the day’s poem

but i'm here to work

...

the titles, the authors’ names, dangling straight on the spine

lined up, like carcasses at an old butchershop

waiting to be devoured

tempting me away from the keys and the screen and the

#838 in defense of the office space arson

it was his stapler
he had warned them
the world coralled him
and he drew a meager line
the issue was more than a stapler
the issue was the world disrespecting the tiny space allotted one individual
and he responded in flames
he was not a violent man
unassuming and gentle
but they took his stapler, again
i applaud him

#837 highways and low days (1 G Em/ 2 Em G/ 3 CCCD)

swamp's full of words
sky's full with birds

heart filled with hurt
in an Earth filled with dirt

mind full of pain
a puddle full of rain

mouth empty of smiles
my highway out of miles

my Singer's out of songs
a voice hoarse from so many wrongs

my rainbow has turned black
my Forgiver turned his back

#836 waiting for things to pick-up

spinning tires and time on his hometown main street
waiting for his future to improve
or for the right girl to notice
burning rubber and burning thoughts past the same tired falsefronts
hoping for trouble

or for distraction
changing gears but nothing else
same old radio station
same old albums

#835 me vs. evil

i stomp an ant and feel accomplishment
but the colony does not enough laugh at my effort
does not even notice
and the march continues

#834 in common

communism
common, communal, community
democracy
"by the people for the people"
yes, communism ignores human greed
while democracy thrives on it
and we circle the world
enforcing democracy
hypocracy
my democracy must be lived before it can be spread
and even then
my democracy can be only be planted, not enforced

#833 if only

i squeeze my eyes until they spot and spiral bright
alone in my adolescent bed
and aspire to being a cool kid
and fixing my world
on the news and in the cafeteria
the world is full
of things out of my control
and so

i squeeze my eyes until they spot and spiral bright
alone in my adolescent bed

#832 "sing to the mountains"

i walk this aisle that leads to the focal point of the cathedral
this is where god lives
in the traisl of a mountains
mountains formed from a multi-billion year creative dance by Earth herself
rising up for longer than humans have existed

a perfect balance of masculine and feminine
pride and humility
a life-giving blend of light and colour
power and surrender
each leaf, each footstep, each old rock
miracles

i'll raise my voice
i'll lift my heart
i'll dress my best merrel apparel
and worship nature seven days a week

#831 i return home and he's not there anymore

my fridge died
a simple, solid, standard fridge
left-handed
the new one is good
i like it enough
it's brighter, but still, i like it
it's right-handed
it's been weeks now and still
i reach for the right side

#830 so from where does misery come

massaging your partner, relaxes you
volunteering, attracts employment
teaching material, is the best way to learn it
spending time with youth, nurtures youthfulness

#829 advancing laundry and language

words thrown in a hamper
rinsed and soaked and cycled
hung to dry
snap-flapped and folded
now donned for showing

#828 trades dreams

grass grows tall 'round the rusty sedan
where children play mechanic
dreaming of a future within the Nascar infield
but dreams and reality have not collided yet
the wreck is still around the corner

#827self-fulfillment

our checklist is done
miracle of flight, check
instant global communication
technological advancement
weapons of mass destruction
check
check
check
each item is scratched
but one

#826 ready for abandonment

my decision
bugs me like a post-publication cover page typo
an amaerican spelling in a canadian book about canada
but
what's done is is done

#825 pike place

fish fly and voices repeat
flowers and books and people
rich tourists and poor bums
an energy and character that took years to build

#824 the storyteller

in her hands
the guitar tells a story
beyond the lyrics of the song

on the other side of her closed eyes
no crowd sits
just family and memories and smiles and bruises

#823 the art of begging

i open the fridge
behind the fridge-hum, silence
grab the cheese package
toenails click on laminate floor
hopeful eyes enter the room
the head lowered, humble
and i understand the cliches origin

#822 projection

have you ever been jealous of a kettle
it's ability to blow off steam
it's guaranteed usefulness
predictable schedule
the zero pressure to talk

you haven't... oh
me either

#821 lying on the shore

fibs fade like water-rings from a rock in a lake
spreading out to invisibility
a plop that turns into silence
then walk away or,
pick up another rock

#820 plaid

lines crissing and crossing
thick and thin and thin and thick
colours starting and stopping
light and dark and dark and light

#819 5:14

my savings account has 4 digits
counting both sides of the decimal
my future plans
include defrosting 5:30 supper in the microwave
my retirement fund and my pension are evenly matched
zero each
which makes no cents
and man,
i love my life

#818 game 7 post-game show

drunk people watching drunk people commit drunken crimes
tear gas, explosions, burning cars
embarrass a city
4-0
go home

#817 we all know how love ends

Only owls hear mice move under snow
Siebert's words throw you to my mind's front
slap against the inner skull

i the mouse, you the owl
others see snow
but you sense my timidity
my scurrying, my fear of everything on the other side of this blanket

#816 it's time to stop

when life is too busy to live
when to-do lists grow, like the spider plant you've been meaning to tend
when the love of your life is someone you high-five at the door
one leaving, one arriving
when you've turned down the same good friend for 5 consecutive outings
when dirty dishes claim your sink, your counter, your kitchen, your house
when questions and demands come from every room and every phone

#815 what are the chances

if you won the lottery, would you still do the same job
hang out with the same people
keep the same hobbies
would you stay the same person
chase the same dreams
play the same games

#814 WYBMABIITY

happy things happen at the hoz
birthdays and game 5's
and all that is good
finding the right song on the juke box
returning your bottles at the cash
imports on your right, shelly's left
three categories of wall paraphernalia
sport, farm, and random
WYBMABIITY

#813 map

a paper map tells you which way to turn
but stays static
as roads erode, and rivers turn

#812

mount fernie looks like an ice cream fudge dessert on the counter the morning after a party
gross melty slop
frustrating because i want ice cream
i want to hike, to explore

#811 google wacking

i lie with my guilt
@#$ the morning
instead of masterminding the mourning
for a plan for world peace
in this piece of the world
as the mask of the world falls to pieces
a poetic way to explain
adult to child
the transition
child to adult

#810 for Life

i relay for the golfball in my throat from the simple luminaries
i relay to remind me that Life is strong but that each life is delicate
i relay for the volunteers
i relay for all the after-school visits i made to Mary's house
i relay to meet great people
i relay for the breeze that hits my spine on seeing the yellow t-shirts
i relay for Life

#809 ted

the man inside the laptop tells me i'm tying my shoes wrong
and myself promises i, we will try the new method
for a change in habit, is a change in brain growth
and today, today, i crave a change

#808 best of the season

game 1, first round of the play-offs
five minutes in
the commentator's voice,
like the players' play
full of energy
both forget the pay-cheque
performing for the wonder of play
for the little boy inside
who flipped and traded for cards
in the grade 6 hallway

#807 a chore for Father

the boy mows
fearful of rocks and sticks and demons
of the ka-cha-chunk of unwanted debris
fear affects his heartrate
fear of these things and fear of Him

#806 stations

like most men whose parents outlive them, i was a little boy when i was condemned
despite popular belief, i was cross, and received wood to match my emotion
i fell on dirty dirt, but mum was there and i found the strength of simon
my sweat and filth were wiped by compassion
thanks V
i fell a second time, but by then i was beyond their ridicule, i found a new strength
hidden all my earthly life
met the daughters my knees hit earth for the third time
blood and clay, together again
stripped, nailed
dead
deposition, or lamentation, whichever you prefer
both a step to my tomb

#805 the big leagues

remember getting a run-on,
like a cfl kicker
closer and faster
as you approach it
then kick it
it goes flying, end over end
and lands seven feet away
a defeated dandelion

#804 sorry

stairs thump and sandwiches fly
suitcases fill and dishes rotate
never everything done
but who cares when you get away for the weekend

#803 rain rein

rain and wet fill the town
forcing me inside my house,
inside myself
grey outside
grey inside

#802 "it's bigger than you"

piercing strings
followed by skull-thumping bass
build up to lyrics that question man's contribution
to this blue gumball
forcing envy toward any one grain of sand
on a beach or in a playground sandbox

#801 greener on the other side

walking with my grandson, i see a leaf
resting on a rock by the fence
on the rock is a fossil
this green leaf leaf will one day fossilize

which is more beautiful, more impressive?
the green leaf or its ancient imprint?
i pick up the leaf, hand it to my grandson
but he seems more amazed by the fossil

#800 ALEX WAS HERE

i pour words like concrete
changeable for a finite time
setting in place from the moment they hit paper
and like the ingenious teen vandal
if i time the change just right
my words live until the sidewalk is re-done

#799 ferris wheel churning

time is a conspiracy
clock tic corruption
time zones and twilight zones
hands spin against, forcing motivation
each moves at its rate
climbing left, falling right
ferris wheel stomachs for those who watch too close
and the digital hides its progress in 60 second bits
arbitrary units invented by the clock's own existence

#798 CG Y Hate, the red plate

I LOVE Fernie.This place.

Smalltown pace, knowing the clerk’s face, night-time drum-n-bass, mountain-sheltered …           space     

godly things, NEW chocolate shops, OLD stumpy, up 3 sisters, down 3 kings,

familiar eyes and lawn trimmed perfect by, old Italian guy

But tonight my slam is for all       CAPITAL-A CAPITAL-B     HATERS

who, like me, ever said “BEEP BEEPIN, red-platers”

Birthday brats, we brag, unwilling to share            

But these mountains are not ours or theirs

Though wrapped in green ribbon and white bow,

by the, Higher Powers.    The Powers-That-Be,

Powers that be wishin’ we seein’ their vision.     

of Kindness, Understanding, Respct-       

But heck

I play the game in my mind, SUV pulls in from my blind

Cuts me off without pity like 2^nd ave is his Cow-Town city

RED-plate, but I don’t  hate

I used to seethe, now I breathe

you see, SUV slaves to collect enough…  paper quadrilaterals

 to enjoy the mountain, saddle-bowls

And when I city-drive, I need to draw on rage, release my

Mario-Andretti, psycho-speedin  horn-honkin, finger-flippin   INNER BEAST

okay, I’m not that bad, but here’s my pledge

I WILL NOT JUDGE CALGARY BY ITS WORST EXAMPLES

plenty of BLEEP BLEEPS in this town, my hikers and campers

Weekdays SUV chooses to, make Big Money; weekdays I choose to, ride Big Money

Mr SUV is 5-lane insane Mcleod Trail-men-tality

Not because he, wants to be,       not because he tries to see?

but because that’s 5 days of his 7, workin’ to afford …      condo in heaven

I’ll close         by stealin', words aristotelian     “We ARE what we repeatedly do”

So I      ask you,     see G        Y hate, the red-plate          Why CG Y

#797 cheeseburger philosophy

life is a burger
we're all a little different
choose your side
choose your size
patty between buns

life is a burger
dress it how you want
add some colour
add some condiments
cow between bread

life is a burger
eat it up
enjoy every morsel
savour every bite
meat in the middle

#796 the beach

in every person's life
blows a teenage night
a nocturnal gust
snapping the kite in a new direction
the flyer feels the snap as a tug on the hands

#795 weight

my soul is weighed down with anchors
social commitments, to-do lists, meetings
when do i cut the chains and leave the anchor to rust on the ocean floor?
trust the winds to take me

#794

when did i buy all this stuff
why
things on top of gadgets underneath trinkets
electronics and furniture and clothes
more clothes than any one person will ever need
at this rate, wall space will be non-existent in 2014
when did i buy all this stuff
why

#792 the horror

my face is the wrong size
my skin blisters and peels
glows an unnatural red
i risk early death
all because...
i forgot the sunscreen

#791 first year

dismantled pens
hold bits of paper, wet
as does the ceiling
a pile of undone to-do lists lies a large desk
covered by uncorrected assignments

#790 order

i stare at the open drawer, full of tupperware
begin to close it
slide it open again
stare another couple of moments
then i answer the battle call
empty the contents onto a free space on the counter
spray and wipe the drawer, inside and out
dry it
sort and order containers and lids
pitching the singles, the un-mated, the useless
slide it closed
open it
wallow in achievement
slide it closed again

#789 sharing

i put my soul on their table for supper
and instead
they ordered out, kfc
so i scrape my soul from their plates onto one plate
then to the stainless steel can beneath the kitchen sink
and later, curbside

#788 poetry matters

poetry is everywhere
the kitchen table, a desk, your own hand
everywhere

poetry is not a specific state of mind
but it requires a specific state of mind to be observed
an awareness, that facilitates a connection
between observer-mind and observer-environment

poetry is not matter
poetry is the reason matter matters

#787 may 5th

the mountains look like a half-eaten dessert
beside the kitchen sink
the morning after
but still
winter hangs on like the smell of fish on hands

#786 lies we tell our children

cheaters never prosper
you might get arrested for that
be careful, or your eyes will stay crossed
what goes around comes around
if you don't start trying harder, you'll never make it in (insert grade or post-secondary year here)
you'll understand when you get older

#785 nhlfomo

why do i need to see the game tonight
why not the score in the morning
and the highlights if i want
fomo
how do they use it against me so well

#784 boring

my friends call me crazy
and i call them the same
insane zany and quirky
are all compliments three
because the antonym of crazy is

#783 our kitchen table

our kitchen table provides 3 meals a day
turns people into friends
supports meetings that improve community
wears scratches and a red wine ring
our kitchen table
is the nucleus of our house

#782 take two every four hours maximum

antibiotics and lyposuction
prescription happiness
comes in a child-proof topped bottle
push and turn to unscrew
i have a cure for  95% of headaches
rest for 30 minutes in a quiet room
but no, we need the 30 second fix

#781 the poet's pledge

i promise
i promise to write crappy poetry
i promise to write poetry that will benefit others
i promise to call myself a writer, and a poet (especially when the title feels false and scary)
i promise to share poetry (mine and others)
i promise to notice the extraordinary in gum-wrappers and large leaves
i promise to beat Self-Doubt, Excuses, and I-Can'ts with a really cool whacker-stick
i promise to manipulate procrsatination
i am a poet
i promise to write

#780 it's over

a hollowness in her tone
like the hometown announcer
for a visitors' sudden death goal
and i know in that moment
whether i leave or stay
our game is over

#779 how the house turned blue

each brushstroke counts for nothing
one half-shingle on a two-story house
but somehow
the job finishes
each brushstroke counts for everything

#778 point A to point B

i put highway between myself and the mountains
they're visible on the western horizon if you strain your eyes
without the mountains as reference
the drive up the 22 feels like a treadmill
steals my energy, but takes me nowhere
monochrome and sameness whiz by me on a screen
as my matrix stands still in space and time
already
i await my return to the mountains

#777 CGY

remember the delicious single dorm bed
small for one
me falling off

that's what i'm thinking of
here in the king-size bed, gazing through the floor-to-ceiling windowed wall
down over the city

in a world of pastry souffles and mousses
i'm wishing for chocolate chip cookies
pulled from an oven by a mitt worn through in places

#776 hawks

how does a giant fall to a tic
first place bow to the last
nerves?
cockiness?
is it the tic that wins
or the giant that loses

#775 10:25

playgrounds at recess
my favourite microcosm
playing, sharing
shoving, fighting
turn-taking and monkey-budging
then they turn into adults
and nothing changes

#774 my dad

my dad never said i love you with his mouth
because he was so busy saying it with his life
my dad always washed the car for me before i went on any date
he worked hard 8-5 monday to friday to provide
he didn't say much but when he did
always worth hearing
did not believe in skipping to the second layer of chocolates
until the first one was done
was content leaving a book for supper
even if there were only two pages left in the last chapter
my dad lived the addage "a place for every thing, and a thing for every place"
he had dark fingernails from earning a living with his hands
my dad

#773 run on sentence

i run for the sense of accomplishment
that starts around 1k
and peaks on arriving back home
the accomplishment of winning against the voice that says
no, skip today, it's just one day
i run because i feel healthy
body yes, but especially spirit
i run for solitude, and for company
i run to think, and to escape thought
i run on crappy cold snowy days
because someone in a heated suburban will give an incredulous look at me
a look that makes me feel hard-core
i run because i don't always feel like running
i run because the alternative, is not running

#772 junior high dance class

hands and elbows and hips and sweaty palms
a racing mind and raging hormones
ymca, cotton-eye joe
wishing she'll be your partner
and being petrified out of your pants when she is

#771 sing to your dog

is there a tax on passion
is soul have a marketing scheme
is raw authenticity a slogan
is talent a manufactured product

is quality a facade

#770 destiny in his right hand

he rolled the dice
no matter how many black dots face up
he rolled the dice
he did not stand against the wall
watching with nervous heart
someone else roll
he rolled the dice
whether the odds are with him or with the house
he rolled the dice
and that made them his

#769 the books on my shelf

the paddle on the wall lies about all the rivers he wishes he'd paddled
above the shelf with the picture of him and her, perma-smiling
another lie of decorating
the cheery hues
the complimentary colours
lies, all of it
lies

#768 god has entered the building

chills and spills
entertain thrills on these hills
sounds turn into music that turns crowd members into instruments
that play the art of listening
rocking together
rolling individually

hours of practice and failed gigs forgotten
even the present moment is lost
because there is no object of relativity for comparison
when a crowd experiences Art through moments of music
eyes close, bodies sway, girls scream

#767 trash talk

hiding the worst of your community only works so long
the snow will melt
leaving you exposed
disposable coffee cups, ignored dogshit, discarded chip bags
and then comes the even uglier part
all blame, no responsibility
coffee-drinkers blame dog-owners blame junkfood-eaters
until winter returns

#766 not my god

like change under my children's pillows and gifts under balsam fir
the sunday hero from the cathedral of my youth
exists only in its strength of having been imagined
the bread is dry, and sticks to the roof of my mouth
the wine is dry too, and tastes cheap
the key to the tabernacle
hides travesties and tragedies committed in vestibules around the world

#765 me and my friends

heaven has no cover price tonight
best drink specials around
and the angels walk around in winter
with strapless tops and fuck-me boots
but i'd rather find a quiet pub
and make our own noisy corner

#764 mr teacher

the 3 o'clock bell rings
the little ones rush out
adding to hallway chaos
in their attempts to avoid it
the big tries to use time well
tidies, meets, sorts
but his brain was off duty at the bell

#763 hooked

words
as slippery as freshwater eels
at the heels of kids standing in rivers
and the right words
even slipperier

like spearing your first fish
the refraction must equal your error, in the right direction
and the excitement
your heart flipping like the fish
albeit much happier

#762 art

borders and edges blur my landscape
suggestions beyond the frame
actions continued
the brush is always present
even in its absence

#761 slow harmonica solo

people try
but optimism drops
as the number of birthday candles rises
did you want me to lie to you
no, the slow harmonica demands a truth

#760 the comeback

last night
when i eased into bed
the season was spring
greens fighting browns
showing signs of imminent victory
but i slept through a battle
and this morning
the world outside my window
sleeps under a white duvet

#759 with age

during youth, i hid inside myself
a habit i'm learning is hard to break
but now share and talk and initiate
are concrete words
verbs full of meaning

#758 on the wall

the pane in the mirror
too much for this obstacle named "today"
i see me, but i fight reflection
and its accompanying pain
i see the reflection, but refuse to see myself

#757 why do you write?

i write because i have something to say
i write because i have nothing to say
i write to find answers
i write to find questions
i write to brag to others
i write to humble myself
i write to understand
i write to confuse
i write to prove something
i write because i have nothing to prove
i write for the voiceless
i write for the shouters
i write to fill words onto paper
i write to purge words from my head
i write to be meaningful
i write to be indulgent
i write to invent new
i write to achieve routine
i write because i write
i write   i write   i write