Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category

Pretty Things

She Sees


pretty brittle broken things

dancing fleet across the floor

dissolved heart and shattered wings

she plays and darts and laughs and sings


She Thinks


never let the people see,

entwined in my imagining,

the darkness hiding inside me

that waits ‘til night to be set free


She Knows


when pills and booze from head have fled

when there’s no escaping

I lay alone in my cold bed

my mind a cauldron for my dread


She Feels


It matters not if love’s embrace

enwraps and holds me tight

black ice crusts behind my face

no thrusting fire will it erase


She Hopes


I’ll flit brightly through the lights

flirting for my dinners

seeming far from pain and frights

aloof from any bright, white knight


She Dreams


“I can’t be saved for I’m not lost”

as eyelids flutter shut

alone in fog and mist and moss

loses the game and counts not the cost



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I have some poems in my brain

on easy days they come like rain

pouring forth without a strain

Like word-drops on my paper


Other days the well is dry

wordless though I try and try

my mind is parched e’en though I cry

naught but tear-drops on my paper


Some mornings I awake in luck

words are there for me to pluck

floating on my mind-pond –  ducks!

A word-flock for my paper.


“The words” I cry as they fly by

They soar across the high mind’s sky

Escape me as I try to pry

Their ink-drops for my paper


In smug repose there sits the page

its edges ivoried by age

Abandoned by its mind numb sage

no thought-drops on the paper


O sparkling shining fleeting muse

deliver words for me to use

to captivate and not confuse

make life-drops on this paper


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Pulling the Plug

Carbon sink

Carbon cinq

Carbon stink

Carbon link


Carbon based

Carbon biased

Carbon liaison

Carbon lies

Carbon lays

All around us

Over us

Under us

In us




Enabling the arrogance

That will

Save us?

Kill us?

Save the planet by killing us?

And yet






Are all

Still here.

In spite

Of our worst

Best efforts

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Burning the Evil Diary

The diary burning!
fire takes the book
pain and hate transformed
smoke and ashes
blow across the former farms
frozen april grasses
hold hope of green fields

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Cuddle Monster (To MLL)

There’s a monster in my bed
She lives right where I lay my head
She holds me here with endless charms
Keeps me from rising to the alarm

She wraps me in a warm embrace
Nuzzles my neck with her sweet face
Reaches out to tap the “Snooze”
Falls back to sleep, no time to lose.

“Five minutes more” is her refrain
So in our bed I must remain
Wrapped in arms and legs and love
She sighs and coos, just like a dove

“Would we could just here reside
In bed, alone, our cares outside.
No cars, no jobs, no morning rush
Just you and I and day’s first blush.”

Eyes closed I murmur “I agree.
There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,
Than safe ensconced within your arms.”
Then sounds the thrice damned snooze alarm.

I try to rise, the monster grips
Arms round my chest, legs o’er my hips
Held tightly down, I try to stir
She cuddles closer, then whispers, “Grrrrr!”

I hold her close to still her growl
I stay in bed so she’ll not howl.
As she starts to lightly snore
I tap the “Snooze”; Nine minute more.

Its nice to have a cuddle monster
She really is no beast
I close my eyes and snuggle ‘gainst her
And do not wish to be released.

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Little Ouches

Little ouches fill our lives
Most  too small to care about.
Tics, twinges,
Scrapes, scratches,
Nicks, knocks,
Bops, bruises,
Accumulated daily,
Beneath notice,


We wake to find
The unassailable cliffs of US
Are patchy, pitted,
Stained, stitched,
Scarred, scraped,
Stretched, sagging,
Dented, damaged,
Burnt, bent,
And poorly mended.

Eroded, bloated,
Sunken, swollen,
Stiff, flaccid;
Thin hair and thick waists
All opposites of what was.
Faded signs of our Glorious selves,
Golden youth,
Promises walking,
Potential unlimited,
Worlds to conquer…

That time is gone
The last dust mote of memory blowing away
In the scouring sands of time’s ebb.

We stumble on….

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From shadow to shadow
From dark to dark
Along winter’s streets it creeps,

It slips around the street lamps glow
Nothing squeaks beneath its feet
It feels no snow or windy blow
It feels no frost or sleet

No wisp of mist escapes its lips
No tears from frozen eyes
It roams the icy night bound street
What e’er it touches dies

In Edmonton it’s found a home
Winter’s dark hours last so long
More people here than up in Nome
Hunting’s easier in a throng

No sparkly brooding vampire king
No True Blood romance lore
This older, darker, ancient thing
Wants our blood, our souls and more

It doesn’t mind the festivals
Ice sculptures, winter fun
These get us out into the night
In the snow, we cannot run

It doesn’t kill and leave a mess
No bloody spatter here
Just another poor soul froze to death
After drinking too much beer

It doesn’t want us to believe
In creatures told of yore
For then of course it’d have to leave
And Fort McMurray’s SUCH a bore!

Edmonton Oct 2012

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