When its sharp it storms the mind,
swirls of smoke & hate combined-
slither insidiously they entwine,
damage done worse every time.
Clouds to crave- poison waves
seen through white glass & a delirious daze
to dull forever an old sun's rays
light which used to shine out always
now bends inward, refracting in ways
to disguise & confuse in an camouflaged haze.

more & more & more & more
of the curse that never ends,
be it smoke or crystal spore
or snake disguised as friend.
I feel it deep within my core
I desperately pretend
you'll be back to fuel me or
a hand someone will lend.

Sometimes I regret every single thing
And
In my pain- I pass on by

emotionless  oh but still it hurts

You tell the truth,

N I dodge your smoke,

As if sometime I could regret.


away and then I cry....

Won't you go away?

emotionless

On my nape the unassuming kiss placed, between slumber's tumble...
While all the while we might forget
Moving forward / Backwardly stumble

Wild eyes open - pierce the dark
Left on my nape, that mesmerizing kiss,
bearing the mark
of true fictitiousness.

Invisibly insidious
I'll scrub it clean off me-
Deliberately delirious
Modern Romance < Liberty.

Thirty four days of delusional bliss

Thirty four ways to greet the abyss

Thirty four shock waves, to the cruelest brain

Thirty four days of irreparable pain.

Prove to me

That there's no twilight galaxy

Sing it to me-

always I search.

Put me down.

Lead me away, through confusion

Pain and fear will follow
But at least we'll be together.

Pain and fear will follow-
So put me down.

As you drive
taking me, we- on a ride
from the suburbs I grew up in
to the City
Down the same streets
Ive always known, driven myself,
the same route
that leads to Toronto.
Splitting, the fork- takes us,
Arching
flying around the circumference of the city
The sun, golden orange,
begins to set.
Iridescence coating the skyline –
as each reflective surface
momentarily
becomes stained glass.
“Eric-I need GPS direction” …


& Its after I've arrived at my destination
& then home again after it all;
do I re-open & Re-read this scribble in a note book-

Recapitulate, & end.

this is my only poem-
and its been  written to include

me; within its home-

in an unspoken prelude

H for the humility be it here or there
U for understanding  yet so  unaware
G for the good and also the great
O for opinions we insinuate

I made a pitcure of jade and emma,
Tossed it on my wall,
Even took a couples pics
They loved it, that was all.
Neither understood its facts,
and till now, neither did I
Intended not as honorary, but as a battlecry.
That picture I conceived of them, includes me in it not- just my reflection in it's glaze, an abstraction in their thoughts.

And yes, even we formidibal three
Somehow all forgot
That even forever aint forever
Our lessons already taught.
And so the power of this image, is more then I will share-
It merley depicts my two best friends,
Admiting they don't care.

This type of art is devistating.
Astonishingly clever,
So clear its truths invisible
The subjects see it never.

Standing Tall, Standing Brave
is to ignore the chase
begin to hope, rethink the life
I once chose to embrace
though I've still got you-
All  age is on your face-
You've become the one reason
for my life, to retrace
Because you see- with your love
my sorrows replace,
your compassion is my fuel
in life's brutal race.
With Softly Spoken Wisdom &
Unrelenting Grace-
Dad you remind me alone
that I'm not in this place.

My heart is heavy at the gates
Where I was caught before;
Could catch my breath beneath the light -
Kneeling at the door
Gothic bars locked from inside
Thrice absent as sorrow states;
Alone there's nowhere left to hide-
heavyhearteed heartbeats- at The Gates

Waged war unto, through words themselves  
I'm obsessed with this fight,
My heart heaves heavy at the gates -
Forever sealed despite.

I have a song which my soul sings
Almost all the time, I frown,
For new sounds with it, it always brings
when I try to write it down.
within my tameless mind
Each attempt itself's profound;
weaving through signature time till the melodies  unbound.

the way it always comes out wrong-
Is something I can’t change;
So I listen again, for My Song
though each new sound is strange.

And so it tolls forever,
with an echo of real love-
and effortlessly somehow it's always been
what I’m dreaming of.

He would always wear my ring- giving me his full attention;
he would lay there- with me,
he listened to the music.
He listened to our songs.

And she carries my pouch, the one I made for her coins.
She carries my artwork- a piece of my mind, my imagination- one of which that even escapes my own memory-
I know she carried it,
Wherever she went.

And with a silent , namelless love, He uses my bookmark.
The one I made for him.
  I know, at every ending,
to every story-
It's there.  

A simple ring, a coin purse, a bookmark;
like the unity of a song we all listen to at once-
we're pushed together, bound by memory,
and immortalized in such fleeting feelings.
  
Isn't It Strange? That within these three mundane objects
I take solice.

It's upon these cold stones
Which now, I choose to sit, and wait.

Alone at sunrise, fear, hatred and of course, this synthetic 'Art of Doubt'....become me.

The ridged steps- my only companionship
the true essence of cold.

as my fingers numb, and I can barley type this out
Honestly know
I wonder how long and painful
death by ice
really must be.

Beside me; a building filled with everything I could ever ask for want or even need.

Everything.

And yet , Upon these Cold stones
I sit, just a while longer
To remember what I still have. Not mourn what I've lost.

But mainly, to be a man who doesnt deserve anything inside that wonderful, overwhelming sentimental house. Be it people, possessions even the animals-on those cold steps of reality-he deserves where he rests.
They all deserve more than what I thought I could haven given them.
More than this.
I am so sorry Dad.
Im very sorry Mom.

Thank you, for these cold stones.  You will never understand the gratitude, which one day
I must leave behind,
of all the these priceless blessings.

But for now
It's upon these
Oh so cold, disgracelesss stones- you and me are too alike
melted with liquid burned and with fire, me and these cold stones
know true
desperation.

The most superficial of all my troubles-
My backache does prosist.
Throughout all my other ****
That dull pain still exists.

Tucked in every lonley smile
And every insatiable crave
Is that pain, sciatic style
Despite how I behave;

Yet dealing with much more then a backache am I,
Addictions, Predictions, prescriptions, I lye:
Here in my bed in my room in my shame,
harbouring my bodys everworseing pain.

You'll never know if they'll come back,
to mend your heavy heart,
to create all the things you lack,
to validate your art.
True friends one will always know,
regardless where they choose to go.

When your love is more then theirs,
you'll notice quite the bruise;
you'll be the only one who cares
and only one to loose.
Will you come back for me my friend?
Or will this truly be the end.

H    is for help! you know I'm alive
E    for estranged, expressionistics
        contrive
R    eading rhymes- revise, review
        reprise, recite- rethink and renue.
O    verwhelming-
        vertly, overdone-
         bsessive...
o  ntology~
      
Still, I'm the one.
I'm the hero, of the story-
Don't need to be saved.

The artists impartiality
Of their craft's integrity
Is their profound gift
May it set us all free-
& Vanquish all anxiety.

When each page is blank, and book empty
Its full with potential's entierity.
Our real gift is sweet opportunity
To create and contrive
Fearlessly.

Its in our art we become who we wanted to be
With truthfull eyes we garentee
That you'll one day begin to see

The artist's impartiality.

Lying in thick dark
the candle we made glows warm,
burns away my time.

Dear Dad,

We close our eyes, and we retreat
too a very special place-
Away from worry, away from doubt-
familiar teardrops trace.

So, when I see you, sleeping –
the phone right by your seat-
I cannot help but lay parallel, with you-
& forego frantic defeat.

I cannot help but lay with you
& Join your slumber deep,
Knowing that one day when you leave this earth-
that we can always meet in sleep.

Love, Eric

Controlled
Assimilation
Nurtured
Aboriginal
Defeat.
Indignant
Americans
Now
S *ympathetic

The cruelty of the the human mind-
To lose, to keep, to hide, to find
Half our life be only true
If somehow the mind allows it to...

To forget; well sadly nothing truly competes
for it's the most merciless of our minds feats:
Nothing can be real
if your memory can't on cue:
Regurgitate information,
ephemerally true.

To perform, to recite, to repeat, and understand-
through blackness- pathetic, forget it, regret it
Oh how the mind cruelly demands.

After were gone
my heart will sit out
on the lawn
And my mind back in our den.
I'm blessed and charmed to be a Pon,
That much I comprehend.
Never wonder- always ill be, grateful till the end:

but an abnormal load of guilt, you see
I feel always & constantly

You wont say, but I still know,
that the ride of life I drive too slow.
Somehow, every loving act,
answered question, & proven fact
I took to quickly, wisdom lacked,
my psyche now barley intact.

for drugs are my defining trait...
never imagined as my fate...
I had it too good, I still have it so...
What the **** will I do when both of you go?
I can barley get by, the extent you don’t know,
of the Eric sacrificed, revert I don’t grow.

I may look like a man, but you know that I'm not
there is so much much more I need to be taught.

A gap within my minds brigade
is the price, solemnly payed
weak- the bold brain's barricade

a barricade assumed concrete,
proven otherwise as I repeat
irrational- my slow defeat

Compelled am I, a victim to
intrusive thoughts I can't subdue,
to cease them truly, I've no clue

But I've a hunch that if I end,
consumption, and myself defend,
longer no more I'll haft pretend

No one can function at this pace
I wish always my steps retrace
back to run a different race
to end in a much different place.

What I was told was to withhold
belief in what you feel
Yet in fashions old, I lay & behold
All which isn't real

The guise of gold that denial upholds
(Before which we all kneel)
Has taken cold for warm, and sold
what from us it steals.

I'm a song and a poem and an epitaph alike. I'm the dirt gravel path in the forest you hike. I'm the wind and the rain, I'm the first sip of tea
I am the red haze above the deep dark blue Sea.
I'm whips of hard smoke, fresh perplexities-
im only what
you want me to be,

Of modern tragedy I sing
Deluge-  tears forwardly fling
Watching winter melt to spring...
goodbye snowflakes glistening.

I've let these months weave past my grip
& I have a feeling I wont return
So take this time and read my lip;
From these words I hope you learn

That No drug ever is stronger than me.

There's always a choice

You are free.