My phone was down
To one percent tonight
And I’m not going to lie
I was scared.
I thought it was a sign
A sign that I might be
Running thin…..
Overexerting…..
Over indulging.
Work and liquor have been walking hand in hand down the street
Likes its 1950.
And I don’t like a lot of
People these days
Whether or not that’s because
I am reading lots of Bukowski ,
Is yet to be determined.
I think I can blame Bukowski
On the work/ liquor combo.
Maybe it’s time for a new job.
The day I quit working in an insulation factory
Was the day I finished reading “Post Office”
On my lunch break.
It was poetic.
Yet this Art Gallery
gig could be a good
Summertime tool
I am reading “Women” afterall.
And I do get to work easier hungover
Then when sober, and sleeping in.
I took a deep hard look at myself
The characters that surround
Me the places that I
Live and love and the things I like and love to do
It’s the honest truth
That I am confused
And young
And yet to evolve
And full of love
I ride in the back of trucks, on
hockey stick spoilers and broken bumpers
With long hair you can say the words like
******
without being ridiculed.
Kids don’t go back to school
because if I became a teacher
the world would have a few more
smarter fools and a whole
lot more kids.
Maybe as a teacher,
I could inspire, and make one percent of a difference
Or even more.
A child teaching children,
What a concept!
“Never grow up 101” and “Introduction to smiling”
If I could fufill learning to this stage,
It would be the world striking
And not the teachers.
Maybe its time for the youth of the planet
To strike back.
As an ode to the dead phone I once
Needed to recharge,
With a full battery of energy
I vow to live up to my full capacity as a tool of change
If my cell phone does to.
*“Time to watch a little less Netflix and family guy kids,
lets turn on a Ted Talk, if you like them and want to be able
to outsmart those pesky grown ups, you should watch
them at home too!”*
Ted Talks today’s lesson,
The peoples uprising in Egypt tomorrow.
There is a one percent chance of this happening.
Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 6:00 PM UTC
February 13th 2014
I had a full moon in my sign,
So I read it as a sign,
That my entire body spirit and soul,
Was vibrating for a **** reason, and
God - no matter how many times
He has ****** me - he has his
God **** Reasons. He isn’t even
Selfish enough to call them his
Own. That’s my god, that my mind
That my big gig my spirit in the sky.
It’s not nothing that is happening.
If I am regretting, opening
My chakras, and consciousness
That’s too bad because, there is no going
Back, nor forward, nor present
Because I presently believe.
And let me make it clear I no longer believe
in regret.
Miles away from here,
I will never question where I have to go.
A body disconnected from a mind disconnected
From a soul, teeters in the balance of regret
Because trying to get fit is not fitting in
Fit has been inhibition
Latent, and lamented
With sin.
Simply put, make healthy decisions.
Speak freely, and confessions
Are easy to make.
My entire life I have felt like a loser
A Bukowski like ****** -with no 'hoosier'
Like talents. So if tales are not spoken
About you when you die
remember
Like Bukowski’s one of us down here
He wouldn’t be sober either;
Am I the tourist/hitchhiker
That turns Hunter S. Thompson
Down on a hit of ether?
I am wise not with wisdom but wise with beer.
Health is about balance, and that balance
Is my edge.
Either which way, I admire my brain.
I didn’t sit down planning to write
this and if I could explain I would
put it in a book.
Look,
If I publish anything soon I would be
Just as worried
As you are?
Would I pigeon hole and sewer
My lifelong friends or would I
Expose deep dark secrets
That could de-rail my “Hoosier” inspired
Career?
I fear yes.
But I also fear no-
Body would read them.
My trash masterpiece
Will be self published
And hidden in discount book bins
Across North America
With a sticker on it reading
“This is free for a reason”
And its not because I don’t need
money to survive,
but because I do need love
to do so.
Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 5:56 PM UTC
Where oh where is my worldy wisdom
That can set this place straight
Why oh why should we wait to change
When the ball is in motion – technically circulation
What man will decide to be god and
Direct all these direction less folk
Back to their hometowns
New roads or
Uncharted sees
I don’t think I have lived the happiest days of my life yet
I guess I am waiting for her to say
“Travel with me”
Because,
I’m afraid
If I ask her and she said “no”
For whatever reason
I accept and understand
I’d still have to go
No matter the season
And if and when, that time comes and it happens
And I fall madly in love deep into my voyage
This is the day,
I will take my god a little more seriously
Seriously.
Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 5:54 PM UTC
Don’t say I’m too sweet baby
I’m only being kind
Don’t wear headphones baby
I’m standing right behind
You at the bus stop
Don’t catch me staring baby
at your
Behind
Behind you
At the bus stop
Sweet baby.
What a beautiful place to
Meet the love of my life
I really can’t believe it
Never-ever been this surprised
But with gentle little eyes
You might
Just see
Lies.
And I never want to be the one that lies to you.
Who is the military?
What is government?
Who bought what country?
Who are his other clients?
North America in chains
Slaves being silent
I hope I don’t worry I hope I don’t stir
I hope these things for you all
In this giant blur
Spreading my message, sure
Never really has been clear
I don’t drink Budweiser
And have friends that are queer
For who can I stand for and believe in is not as human or alive as me?
Elect me for president and lets take a chance
When was your last destiny moonlit dance
I will remove all propaganda from being shoved down your throat
Solar paneled roads, a moneyless system, and an environment that gets to vote
I’ll be fair and honest and I’ll rhyme all my speeches
I Might even just leave you…
Speechless.
Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 5:52 PM UTC
The baseline throbbed
And the chorus echoed
With liquid confidence
And a substance filled mind
As I approached from behind
I put my right hand on her hip
My left hand clinching my pabst
She turn around and said,
*“I thought you were going grab my ***
I spoke no words, just grinned
She smiled
I hadn’t had this much confidence
in a long while.
She whipped her hair and my heart went wild
“Do you want do dance with me?”
She whispered in my ear
I placed my other hand on her hip
My beer hit the floor
I whispered back
“That and so much more”
*“I want to move
And make time stand still
I want you to whimper at my will
And rise to my roar”*
*“I want to show you how good I am with
My words
And my hands
And my tongue
And my lungs”*
*“I want to show you the world
I want to paint portraits of mountains
Before climbing them
And from mountain tops I want to
Draw the sky
I want our eyes
To gaze at the stars within us”*
*“I want to learn everything about you
As I show you everything I am”*
*“I want to dance for you
As you dance for me”*
We danced all evening
And due to my success on this night
It was the highest I had ever been.
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 7:01 PM UTC
*“Listen here kid, have a seat.
Let me tell you about
The family.”*
You can choose your friends
But you can’t choose
Your family….
…and apparently you can’t choose
your career either.
This is dedicated to
my brother in crime
The younger brother
With stronger
Morals and values
Than mine.
The family is broken,
And your older brother is broke
And in the eyes of a distant father
You know we are both jokes
We are not prodigies
We are not straight A students
We are small town oddities
And some would say we are ruined
We were born into this life.
We were born into financial comfort
Bathed in upper middle class stability
Taught racism is acceptable as long
As we keep it to ourselves, and laugh
As if we are not serious.
We learned that as we grow up, dreams become schemes
We were raised believing we would succeed.
And success is defined by money.
The monetary system is god.
I will be the doctor
You will be the lawyer
And because the system isn’t flawed
We are.
Money is not good, money is god.
I’ve spent a lot of god on beer.
So when we watch our bloodline bicker
Like bad kids in sandboxes,
When we watch adults undermine
Each other’s “parenting skills”
Remember,
You did not chose this
You were born into this.
And as the age old argument
Of genetic versus environment
Rages on like arguments
Over furniture and kitchenware
Remind yourself
It’s not an argument.
Its your environment.
Today my little brother’s heart was broken
And his dreams were shattered like a
Malicious marriage
Divorced, and separated,
By god.
My little brother will not be an RCMP officer
And if he doesn’t know it yet,
This is the best thing to ever happen to him.
Just because your eyes aren’t apparently good enough
They have never stopped you from seeing right from wrong
They are wrong.
You are more then alright.
Cops are more crooked than the criminals they can’t catch
So whatever you do, don’t catch flack
For not having a backup plan
You turn 17 tomorrow, man…
Kid.
Be one.
For a kid can be anything.
You can race san dunes in the desert.
You can rebuild muscle cars and motorbikes.
You can make unique one of a kind furniture.
You can open a restaurant, even a bar.
You can be the next big sensation in Country music, or rap.
Or both.
You will live. You will smile
And you will make other do the same.
Brother, we can do anything.
Hell, when our parents die,
Miserable and alone,
We will inherit their throne
all of their god.
And we can take their god,
Design ourselves some superhero outfits
Break laws in order to fix them
We can grow and sell dope by donation
And make the difference
That neither our parents
Or the police
Are able to do.
I’m proud to share blood with you.
We are superheroes.
We are gods.
We are brothers in crime.
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 6:34 PM UTC
How did you celebrate your birthday?
Err… I mean Earth Day?
Were bright spring days, darkened and dampened?
Was your frontage road flooded? From your front deck did you
Watch? Did you check your watch for the time?
Or even the date? Lately, have you been letting the night fall
without getting your feet wet?
Is there still time yet?
Grey skies will always be greater,
brighter than any man made light.
Pyramids will always inspire more awe than
Skyscrapers.
Sitting under a bridge, you almost feel
as if you could scrape the sky yourself.
The roaring motors above pale
in comparison to the still, strong waters.
My still mind no longer wanders.
Instead, today, it wonders
in privilege and presence
Like it’s my birthday.
My birth right is to look north down the lake
and to look up at swaying tree tops.
Yet they are still … still
and tranquil.
I myself, will again begin to rotate and spin
as a wish, to wander
and travel
and journey
and manifest destiny
for the small town beauty
as a destination fails compared to the journey…
..and the journey is greater then the destination?
Sure, but a cliché, is less than the person.
I rub my bare toes
In wet grass
In wet sand
In cold water
Let it rain whenever mother wishes
because she lets me make my own wishes come true.
Let the wind blow out and candles
let her eat more delicious
wet
cake,
and let me play in more dirt
let me see more
lakes
by next Earth Day.
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 1:48 AM UTC
Do your friends make you paranoid?
Mine used to.
Drama, rumours and gossip were new to
me and made me grow old.
My new friends and I,
we act child like.
Have you ever experimented with different friends?
Do you dare act
Different around
Different crowds
Different ones,
Different twos
Different combinations?
But when you’re friends aren’t around
Sadly it does happen
Do you pass the time?
With self-exploration and
meditation?
The good friends
No matter how you are acting
Always know its really you.
And they will always be there
Through bad and good
Through lows and highs.
The good friends know who you are.
The new friends are always there.
That’s what new means,
and i guess that's what friendship
means too.
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 1:46 AM UTC
You see, I’m in this
“relationship”
lets call her
“Kelowna”
for the sake of this story.
I go to visit Kelowna quite often.
Obviously, she is
Tall
Blonde
Skinny
and Stereotypical.
Do you have I type?
Because I sure do,
and Kelowna fits
the mold
I’ve molded
through
past loves
& thoroughbred
narcissism.
Kelowna’s personality?
Well, you see I can’t completely
indulge in that topic
for I only know what I choose
to believe, and what
Kelowna chooses not to tell me.
I know she owns a cell phone
But, I don’t know her number.
But if I ever snuck my way in
to her address book - file me
under: Weird, ******* Dude.
For Kelowna - this girl is a starry eyed wild child
and my wild is too deeply rooted in weird
to perform the necessary High-speed boat maneuvers,
I’m assuming she is a fan of due to
my ruthless profiling of her.
Kelowna
is my great white buffalo
my blue French horn
my infinite fraction
the heartbreaker soul shaker
my mended heart
has been looking for…
all over Kelowna.
Luckily, there is this other woman.
For the sake of the story
lets call her
“Christina”
Actually Christina is her name.
Christina is that girl,
Who has always been there for me
When the going gets rough
When the money gets tight
When the heart first breaks.
Christina is a small town girl,
with Night Black hair that you can see stars in.
She has capturing lake blue eyes. She smiles
And always says hello
to strangers she doesn’t recognize.
She is pure, clean, and a
personal treasure of mine,
who will always be her own .
I couldn’t tell you if Kelowna and Christina are friends,
because I have lost complete control of this metaphor.
But for the sake of the story, they are,
and although they live in different places
they remain courteous to each other
and curious of each others lives.
Christina has always loved me for who I am.
Embracing my flaws as though they are achievements
Worthy of being song lyrics, screamed on long roadtrips
for the mountains and the sky to nod in agreement.
Christina is so **** cool,
that I can even ask her to say kind words
About me to Kelowna.
And though she might not, she is always cool
And supportive with me asking.
I can see myself visiting Kelowna soon in the future.
And with what spare change I have I will make
Every attempt to wine and dine, and impress her
Every need.
For she is only what I want.
The funny thing is, that I don’t need the change.
I don’t need the dinner or the wine.
I need clear skies and the transitional period
from day to nighttime.
I need the sun, and the stars.
I need shallow water and a deep breath.
But for the sake of this story,
I expect everything to stay exactly the same.
And when I sing my song
with windows down
as I leave Kelowna
for my home town,
Christina will be there to comfort me.
With starry nights and silent statements.
Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 1:44 PM UTC
Drunk
Without regret
I pound on her
The keyboard
The typewriter
The idea
The lady
The liquor
The order
In which I
Pronounce them,
In order
Of completion
In reverse
I got it wrong
For the last time
I got it wrong
**** isn’t bliss
But ignorance is
Fueled by jesus
& volunteer service
I only hope that people will read
Long enough
and allow
Enough time
To write something
Better then this
Early poems and early love
Life is a story that none of us can think of
When it goes wrong
We never figured out turn right
We just keep driving straight
A blur of words slurred!
Of times I’ve wasted of times I’ve swore
Times of drunkenly swerved
That I’ve been good but I have been better
Breathalyzer trend setter
I’m going to go ride my bike
And look at the sky
don’t drink and drive.
Trust me, it makes mothers go mad
Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 1:41 PM UTC