God loves a hill and he made them round
God loves them auburn and he made them brown
he made them firm and he made them soft
and how they move as they walk only God so talks
(I stop what I'm doing and I pretend not to watch.)
I’m a cannonball untethered loosed
I’m the deck on a ship
who doesn't love a good storm
they come as dappled light
upon my forest floor
filtering through the trees
and I’d swear in their presence
I become a cathedral
I can sense their divinity
they take my breath here's when:
when all the air is sucked out from the room
I'm in
it's how puzzle pieces fit
and they know they just belong
it's about how nature loves a crooked line
who doesn't love a crooked song
it’s about take Botticelli when Venus
emerged from the sea a fully grown woman:
paint her some clothes on
and if I may Lord
if only to
allude
hint
suggest
this blessing from which sprang
the most beauteous bountiful
and bouncy of your creations
from out of your vastness
incomprehensible and magnificent
have mercy on us Lord
who can resist fragility and blue steel
that mix of loose with tight
the stillness and the storm
the soft on the edge of firm
the contrast of a thousand turns
the dark weaves in da light
you killing me Lord
you killing me
in your magnificence.
i worry about my father roaming somewhere out there
his memory still strong in his old leather jacket
and his belt buckle i keep on the night stand…
i pray to who the fuck knows, hoping mostly
that i can touch him again,
embraced in one of his famous hugs
the warmest i have ever felt, his whiskers pressed
tightly against my face
i am told he was a sick man by everyone that knew him
but to me he never felt sick, he just felt warm,
like a father should
a bright sun on the cloudy days,
when you just can’t take another drop of rain
those are the days i miss him the most
and i pray the hardest that we don’t live
in a world where he had to suffer through so much pain
his entire life
spent on the roof of hell
just to be swallowed up by
the fire
A bright, jewel washed night
Light sound swirls 'round a
Pair, hidden in the Eden of
Their arms, enfolding a moment
That hides in the tinny speakers
On the ground, and blossoms in
The tiny space between forms
Flowering open when,
A dark forest brown
Looks into
A dark ocean blue
I always pictured this one girl
I drew her out to have this gentle twirl
She would have long brown hair
Running down her back, so fair
She would have pale white skin
One hundred and one hair pins
She would wear the prettiest yellow dress
And she would be perfect for me
But she would tease you with what you could only see
She whispered funny things in your ear
You’re the only one who could hear
While we spend these times in your car
Everything parked and night afar
She would have these lovely curls
Wearing these hidden white pearls
She was what I could only imagine
The thought of her was my one true passion
We would run around with these engaged hands
And land at the beach into these old sands
You said to me, “Stop thinking of me, silly”
I never known what she meant
Until it came to me sent
She kneeled next to me
Gave me this long lasting sad smile with her perfect green eyes
Giving me these last sighs
“You’ll be happy one day, just wait a little longer”
I never had to make such a long ponder
My yellow dress girl vanished from me
Leaving me all alone with this open sea
Those last words took a great toll
Feeling like I was falling down this hole
All my love is genuine
Just love for me is in this pen
I write all these love poems
Hundreds of words for you my dear
I never meant to be so unclear
It’s true I lost you when I needed you the most
Creating these thoughts to stay as my mind host
Distracting these retired emotions
Setting these feelings with inventive motions
Erasing that flower dancing yellow dress
I will not be your tossed away mess
I've always cared for you my sweetheart
I’m just sorry that I broke your gentle heart
This is for a girl.
It's always the same
The same friends surround me
The same books fill my shelves
I meander down the same streets
I drift towards the same women
It's always a brunette
Probably brown eyes, but maybe green
Soft-heart-ed but with a sharp tongue
Some obsession that puts me second
Probably the same favorite food
If I'm not programmed,
I'm damn unlucky
Ramblings Part I
Hippy dippy weather men, continued dark all night,
one potato, two potato, keep trying until I get it right,
you roll em up and roll em up, mark em with a 'B',
put em in the oven, the truth shall set you free,
every time I close my eyes, something new goes down,
feel like Mr. Parker, lost in Barrytown,
the caves in Altimira provide historic news,
before Elvis it was Carl, who had those blue suede shoes
ding dong the witch is dead, at least that's what they say,
does wearing garlic necklaces, keep werewolves away,
or am I thinking vampire chicks, who like to play the game,
keep those fangs where they belong, I'm not here to claim
I know I've seen your face before, is must have been in a dream,
I've been in this chase before, a very familiar theme,
the small brown fox, chased a large black bear,
not very smart, unless you really don't care
heart equals love, love equals pain,
anyone who's been in love, has also been insane,
please excuse me , don't mean to intrude,
hope you don't think, that I'm being rude
will the politicians, ever get it right,
they say one thing, then change it overnight,
we keep replacing them, but nothing seems to change,
is there something wrong with me, but doesn't that seem strange
I bet I can keep this up, then again maybe not,
too much Sterlings Merritage, the killer's changed the plot,
now I need to lay it down, say good nite with an angels kiss,
once again I search the sky, look for the abyss
Gomer LePoet...
Rich bark
clinging to oak
I am perfect
not yet destroyed
by chainsaws
tearing me down
and suddenly
I'm torn away
goodbye brown sap
and sturdy roots
collapse inward
form into a
beaten log
discarded into many
like myself
thrown into a pit
sold for warmth
not my own
time to disintegrate
into ash
flames surround me
lick burn scratch
so suddenly
I turn to nothing
turn to dust
buried with earth
I'm
gone.
The air rushed through my lungs,
pulling with such force that my heart palpated.
Then the rain came, falling like a thousand tears;
wetting the brown dirt, darkening it like my eyes.
I let out the expression of my deepest emotions;
You took those words to the bottom of the grave.
Decay left for the animals to scavenge,
the remains of my words so brave.
I can't relinquish the surety of myself---
in all my belief in you.
You---both beautiful and ugly---
in your selfishness and sophistication.
My thoughts were undiluted...
My thoughts where pure, as my intentions.
These feelings were never about me.
They were about you.
Gertrude, Stradbrook, River and Roslyn,
off of McMillan, my thoughts froze on Osborne
A drive through the Village on slippery streets
Bought records, drained pints
swallowed down summer nights
Back home in Wyoming--think I'll be fine
'til some night, filled to gills
trip through streets with a stranger
and sing "One Great City"
through swollen closed throat
And I remember...
Confusion Corner, commuting through cold streets
Watched you drive as the daylight died
I narrow my Focus,
you eased into traffic
The Assiniboine ran and was watched by Riel
January.
Johnson's Terminal.
London Fogs.
Took Yellow Dogs for long walks
and Exchanged now for then. Snapped pictures, again and again.
Snow up to my hips
Spent a night at St. Boniface
We cased a cathedral, your friends seemed to like me.
Lines ran from reserves, over oceans and borders.
Your hair ran down shoulders, brown waves for a blanket.
Winterpeg, Manitscoldout
Portage & Main
Shivering, smiling
at a Tavern Uniting with friends,
'til we took the King's Head...
We took the King's Head.
Long live the king.
January.
Magic Thailand.
Curry soup, curried thoughts thawing,
melting, falling from pickled brains,
through lips chapping
Form a Perimeter
Frame a city
Bullseye, center, a Gold gilded Boy
he leans into sky, as they sing, as I hear.
The road North Ended--November, it was.
I think, one year prior, in Robin's Donuts
on hinges that sighed metallic,
I caught your eyes--organic, unplanned--
through fog frosting lenses
Caught them, held on
Held your deep brown
In my gunmetal blue
Seasons will chase--haste to follow more seasons
White streaks to green
and the Red River runs.
When they score at the ballpark,
"Go Goldeyes!" the cheer sounds
Cheer. Cheer!
The Guess Who still suck,
but the Jets completed their round trip
"Go, Jets, go!" so the cheer goes.
"Cheers!" Cheers like bells.
Bells
Pealing
Peeling like your sunburnt back
Bells
Ringing
Striking
Bells singing long
Bells sounding loudly from Grace Bible Church
baptizing Baltimore as it kisses Osborne
Bells ringing. Round sounds.
Round rings for fingertips touching
Bells
Round sounds that hang on my neck
and sing me to sleep every night--
remind me how badly you wanted those bells
I denied you.
They sing "Left and Leaving"
and show me old scars
they ring and peal and strike
and sing
unending.
I remember April of 2008
Dropping my toque in the mud-and-slush street
We took Pembina Highway
Ate Vietnamese.
I remember...
Confusion Corner,
Commuting through cold streets,
Watching you drive as the daylight died
In your blue '02 Focus
Ease us back into traffic,
The Assiniboine River.
And Louis Riel.
So tell me...
Comment-allez vous, ce soir?
Je ne suis pas comme ci, comme ça.
Hey Harvey Wallbanger
I’d like you to tie me to the bedpost, baby
And press your fuzzy navel to my slippery nipple.
Give me your white angel kiss and I’ll lie down like a brown cow
While between the sheets you play the Italian stallion.
Like a kamikaze pilot head for my pink squirrel
Then give me your ol’ Alabama slammer
And pack a rum punch into that screwdriver of yours.
I want a screaming orgasm
That’ll send me to blue heaven. Wu Wu!
So, don’t mention that bloody Mary
With her devil’s kiss,
Or you’ll find I can give a snake bite that’s as deadly as a B-52.
Instead let’s ride into the tequila sunset in our golden Cadillac
For sex on the beach
And on the sea breeze we'll hear an old love song sung by a ‘salty dog’ with a Gibson
And watch a tropical storm over Manhattan
We'll go to Peppermint Patti’s café
And order an Irish coffee and a large slice of cherry pie.
Happy, after dark let’s drive home for a sloe comfortable screw with satin pillows
And fall into the sweet surrender of a summer dream.
