I bet when you were a little girl
you bullied the boys that you liked,
you teased em and chased em and pinched em,
and then went home on your bike.

And now thirty three years later,
you still use the same type of ploy,
to strike up a conversation,
to help you get close to the boy.

You flutter your eye lids to sucker him in,
then proceed to make fun and flirt,
the occasional pinch and occasional poke,
(but not so much that it hurts).

And I think I've worked out why you do this,
its part of a test you have planned,
to see if the boys really worth it,
to see if he will stick around.

So go right ahead and give it your best,
I'll take everything you have to give.
Cos lucky for you the boy you just pinched,
is the one that you're meant to be with.

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The truth is we don't think about whats going on in the life of others we think about ourselves.

Its all about us.

How we feel. What we want. What we don't have. What we miss. What we regret. How unfair everything is to us. We all do it. Because life is unfair. Because sometimes life does **** and we don't want it to and we don't deserve it and it just isn't fair.

Thats all.

It's not that we don't care about others, its not that I don't care about you but the first thing I see each day is me. The first feelings I have each day are mine. It's me that feels my pain. And it you that feels yours. But I don't know what your pain is. But I don't know how you feel. And so I focus on myself and only now see the irony that not knowing how you feel or knowing your pain is part of what I feel, is behind my pain.

Until we stop. Until someone makes us stop and draws our attention away from ourselves.

The way you did. The way you have.

And I feel like an ***.

And I feel selfish.

And I wish that I hadn't been thinking of me all along and I wish that I hadn't been preoccupied with what I want and what I need and what I don,t have and I'm sorry.

I'm sorry I couldn't see.

I'm sorry I didn't know.

Can you forgive me? Can we go back? Not back to how things were but just back far enough to before I was an *** and before I was selfish and lets talk. Lets talk at that point right there. I had so much other stuff I wanted to say that I never got chance to say because I said the wrong thing. And before I could take it back and before I could explain and before I could do anything you were gone. And since then its all been different. Since then it's ******. Since then I've tortured myself for what I said and you know what? It's gone right back to being about me and I feel like I've learned nothing.

But I can see it now.

Is that better, does it make it less selfish, or me less of an ***?

Tell me how you feel.  Lets start with that and see.

Sometimes a wave of sadness
just washes over me
sweeping all my happy thoughts
right out there to sea

Leaving me awash
in a darkness of my own
I'd hoped this was a phase
by now I'd have outgrown

I don't know where it comes from
or when its on way
But depression always finds me
any time of night or day

And just as without warning
it comes, it goes away
and leaves me reeling and confused
to fight another day.

I closed my eyes and took a breath
and waited for a sign
Of which direction I should take
which door my future lay behind

But in the darkness all I saw
was a vision of a tree
And beneath it on a blanket
sat two people, you and me

No words were said, there was no need
as we gazed upon each other
So much was said with eyes alone
such is the way of lovers

And as this vision played along
a fire grew in my heart
A desire to know the truth of you
to no longer be apart

Passing time it changes nothing
only more now do I yearn
And my desire to be with you
more than ever does it burn

I stand here at the bus stop
still waiting for the bus
which I think may not be coming
still I don't want to make a fuss

Given the choice of getting on
the bus or walking home
I'd take public transport every time
over strolling home alone

I know I should say something
but how does one explain
that they've already bought a ticket
now their left standing in the rain

If I just knew the bus was coming
that one day she would arrive
I could turn my collar to the wind
it's only weather, I'll survive.

Take my hand my dear friend
and walk with me a while
Lets stroll along the eastern shore
and maybe come across a smile

But while we walk lets talk about
whats going on with you
and see if there's another way
or something I can do

I know at times it gets too much
when everythings on you
and you manage to convince yourself
others know just what do

But rest assured you're not alone
this crisis hits us all
when we feel like a fishing boat
adrift amidst the squall

There are people who do care bout you
I know because I'm one
So dont ever feel you're all alone
trust me, it aint fun

We're no more than a call away
any time of day or night
just don't call us during idol
cause then you just might have a fight

Although the gag was kinda lame
it did provoke a smile
lets hope at least it helps to keep
the tears back a while

Next time you're down I hope you'll call
we can come back to the beach
and walk together hand in hand
just talking, side by each

And suddenly its dark,
the lights they all went out
and everything is quiet
not a sound throughout

A striking match the only sound
its flare the only light
oil lamps and candles
illuminate the night

Sitting here in silence
amazed by lack of noise
how do we never notice
our cacophony of toys

I cannot help but wonder
this peace that's so serene
how do we never choose this
until nature intervenes

For every place that is
there's a hundred might have beens
and on every single journey
a hundred in betweens

every path I choose has high points
then it seems they all descend
into a sad familiar landscape
we call the bitter end

but I will not let that be my lot
things cannot end like this
there must be signs i do not see
must be something that I miss

perhaps thats it for this time round
is it karma's camouflage
to make me think I've got it right
then it turns on self sabotage

I hope she never knows
that I thought of her today
that I've done it all the time
since she day she went away

I hope she doesn't know
there's not a tear I haven't shed
that even after all these years
I sleep on "my side" of the bed

I hope she never knows
and not save my foolish pride
but to spare her from confronting
the feelings that she hides

The colour has been added in
that once was never there
a tear or two has now been fixed
with lots of tape and little care

Tattered round the edges
and never very clear
not worthy of display it stays
in the box right here

And while other better memories
go on display with pride not shame
the photograph that is my life
will never make it to a frame.

The love the lives within my heart
for you is hard to find
and being kept apart from you
causes pain of the worst kind
if we both moved in similar circles
I really wouldn't mind
but is it fair of me to ask
that you leave all that behind

I know that what I'm asking
you to leave behind is tough
and compared to what you had before
this place will seem a little rough
so I ask in ways half heartedly
semi humorous, off the cuff
I would hate to end up losing you
because I alone was not enough

I find myself constantly torn
should I go or should I stay
and leave you amidst a better life
while I turn and walk away
to leave would be the noble thing
least to myself thats what I say
in a bid to regain self control
and keep my tears at bay

They say that life is short,
and while this may be true,
is it not also correct to say,
its the longest thing you'll ever do.

We gaze upon the same night sky
though a thousand miles apart
and ask ourselves some questions
about matters of the heart.

Like the sky, my questions black and white
so the answers yes or no
but yours are wrapped in shades of grey
and your answers must be so

For two to be so close in kind
yet see things in different ways
bids a promise of excitement
not one of uneventful days

Then perhaps the timing of the question,
is the most important place to start.
So 'til we gaze upon the same night sky
but just a few inches apart...

I’m never the guy in the picture
I wonder why that is
It’s never my hand you’re holding
it always seems to be his

I could be the one that makes you smile
and touches your very soul
That fills you with passion and longing
gives you a yearning to be again whole

But I’m never the guy in the picture
unless the picture is only of me
Just what is it that I’m missing
that means this is the way its to be?

Genocide at sea
In the name of profits
Killed by mankinds greed

Sometimes I catch sight of you
out of the corner of my mind
A ghost from recent past
I fought so hard to leave behind

And sometimes I catch your perfume
on a breeze that isn’t there
And so no matter what I try
I must accept that I still care

But the memory I long for
the apparition of my choice
is the one that never comes
will I never hear your voice

To hear your voice just one more time
know it’s my name that you said
would prove to me that I’m alive
although so much of me is dead

I wonder if you’re haunted
by what was and still can be
By the choices that you made
and if your ghosts look just like me

How can something that brings so much joy
turn around and cause such pain
It takes you out to bask in sunshine
yet leaves you naked in the rain

It fills your stomach with dainty butterflies
and ***** you in with its **** pout
then the moment you let your guard down
it pulls your guts right out

It leaves a gaping cavity
and an ache inside your chest
makes you feel your very worst
after feeling your very best

Where once you were king of the world
now you only want to hide
building walls that would make Hadrian proud
you lock yourself inside

But alas we are too stupid
our optimism too sublime
because we tell ouselves in a year or two
"it'll work out different this time"

Only it doesn't.

I trace my fingers cross the carving on the tree
Letters in a heart mean you for me
I still remember clearly that day
and the love we have that never went away.

Was the perfect summer day fifty years back
You and me and a picnic in a pack
Sandwiches and cake and lemonade
Two grown up little kids in 7th grade

I remember we went swimming in the creek
Something we looked forward to all week
Then we took a walk together holding hands
and told stories bout the folk in far off lands

We talked about our families and our folk
told more stories, now and then a little joke.
And then we talked about the ones we miss
and I wiped away your tears with a kiss

Right there and then we knew we were in love
and swore we be together fore him above
I told you I would marry you one day
you said if they wouldn't let us we'd run away

It was then I carved our names into this tree
those letters in a heart mean you for me.

I shave my legs and pits and bits
in an effort to fit right in
But I'm always late
I'm "the chubby mate"
who would give anything just to be thin

My friends are pretty where I am plain
although none of them would ever say
So I'm left with no choice,
to get close to the boys
I have to give it away

Don't me wrong I like it
For those few minutes I feel real pretty
But ten minutes on
when he's already gone
Thats when I start to feel ******

I know I'm not the prettiest girl
but I'm honest, loyal and true.
If a boy could see past
the size of my ***
Well there ain't much that we couldn't do

Neath blankets 'mongst the pillows
I listen to the rain
as it lashes 'gainst the window
natures violent refrain

I smile to myself
pull up the covers, snuggle down
this storm she cannot reach me
for sanctuary I've found

The wind now joins the chorus
humming tunes across the vent
a sad and sombre melody
conveys the earths lament

Drifting tween the planes
of consciousness and sleep
i find myself pursuing
the dreams that once so deep

I close my eyes for one last time
and slowly drift away
'til this nights storm has passed me by
and I'm awakened by the day.

Forty something years ago
in a bed in Montreal
John asked that we give peace a chance
and thousands heard his call

But here in the next century
there’s no one to make the plea
But I’m sure if he was here now
with what I say he would agree

Nobody ever wins a war
and far too many always die
It’s better to give peace a chance
than fight a war over a lie

So what is it we’re waiting for
brothers. sisters make a stand
join hands and sing his song with me
make it heard across the land.

All we are saying, is give peace a chance

My age alone must tell you
I cant be all "that" good
not exactly Sweeney Todd
but not quite Robin Hood

But a nice-ish guy I must surely be
as I sometimes come in last
and as for the good ones dying young
thats a test I think I've passed.

Is it wrong
to long
to taste
your tears
to hold
you close
kiss away
your fears
look into
your eyes
so blue
and know
exactly
what to do
to make
your world
a better place
you'd see
the truth
is in
my face

you lit
a fire
inside
my soul
that burns
amidst
the glowing coal
of passion
tenderness
and want
til at night
my every
dream
you haunt

All this you have done and so much more

Weeping willow weep not for me,
for my time is nearly done.
I'm just a weary traveler,
seeking shelter from the sun.

I'm on my final pilgrimage,
the one that takes me home,
to a place thats not too far from here,
from where I used to roam.

My travels took me round the world,
cross countries near and far.
Walked each day in golden sunlight,
slept under nights as black as tar.

But to my home I now return,
at the ending of my days,
for on my beloved England,
I shall rest my final gaze.

Am I part of the poems I write,
or are they just part of me.

Am I the central character,
let out for you to see.

Or am I just a writer,
sharing an idea?

I guess sometimes I'm both,
though its not always very clear.

Sometime I write about myself,
and the battles that I've fought.

And other times I write about,
experiences of thought.

So if you read a write of mine,
fear not for me my friend.

Because its just a poem,
and its end is not my end.

Its so hard to get away from life
even if for just a while
to sit back and truly switch it off
to allow yourself to smile

But a smile thats not for anyone
just a smile that spells content
not interpretation necessary
thoughts all gone and spent

To escape a life of clutter
obtain clarity of mind
a life bereft of all demands
seems impossible to find

Perhaps it just takes longer
and patience is the key
to find myself alone in thought
with a mind thats truly free

If music is the food of love
are tone deaf people doomed
Are only those with perfect pitch
for lasting romance groomed

And what of they eye o' the beholder
where beauty is supposed to lay
Do only those with twenty twenty
get to be blessed this way

And if a picture paints a thousand words
and the viewer cannot read
Did the artist therefore waste his time
sowing unfertile seed

We talk a lot of metaphors
about music, love and art
but does really help explain
or just make us sound smart?

Each day I get the gift of time
and here's what I do
I spend it in so many ways
and not always how I choose

I spend maybe a quarter of it
sleeping in my bed
all tolled an hour eating
its good for you I read

then there is the work thing
its not the thing that I like best
I write poetry and do my chores
and tend to waste the rest

Of the ways I spend my gifts
one thing is always true
the part that I enjoy the most
is the time I spend with you

I am no longer who I was
because now I’m someone new
I let the me that used to be
get altered just for you

I guess one of me is to blame
for letting all things change
for accepting the me that you could see
once things got rearranged

I liked the old me quite a lot
and at one time so did you
and yet you kept on changing him
was it just something to do?

The new me doesn’t understand
why the old me would do that
In fact the new me’s thinking
that I want the old me back

And now it seems the me I am
is no more the me for you
so let’s see just how hard it is
if what’s been done we can undo

As poets our lives must seem too short,
and filled with so much pain.
We seldom receive recognition in time,
no sunshine, to brighten our rain.

But as poets we live more than most,
the good times and the bad,
and we get to share our adventures with you,
dear reader, both happy and sad.

But what catches your eye, and comforts your soul,
are the tragedies we relay.
Because there is always some comfort in finding,
you're not the first, to come this way.

And so as poets, we continue to write
and attempt to connect with our words,
to the people who know, why we do what we do,
and not those who think its for the birds.

This yearning has me at a loss
its a fog thats in the way
Like a bank of cloud has swept on in
and put a haze upon my day

Try as I might to push it aside
it keeps on coming back
To replace the cloud with clarity
may be down to something I lack

Perhaps you could help me out here
tell when the fogs gonna rise
When this yearning will be satisfied
so I can see through clearer skies

Cast the loneliness aside
close the doors, keep out the cold
wrap me like a blanket round your shoulders
tell me stories yet untold

We'll sit beside the fire you and I
as if this time would know no end
and talk long into the night
sharing secrets between friends

and as the sun begins to rise
on this a new, and brighter day
never again for you will loneliness
for we will always have this day

Do not look at me,
like I have things to say
I’m just hiding from the world
in my self-preserving way

Don’t ask advice,
for I have none to give
and if I did you wouldn’t take it
if you saw the life I live

Don’t pay attention
to the words I say or write
It’s what goes on behind them
that wakes me crying in the night

Don’t believe in me
for your faith will be misplaced
when you realise at last
that I am nothing but a waste

Don’t try and love me
keep your distance stay away
I’m not worthy of attention
any more than what I say

And now its over
nothing left nothing at all
gave it all and came up short
so now I’m back behind the wall

I have a postcard
pinned to the wall inside my mind
of you and me
sat 'neath a tree
me in front and you behind

In one hand a scribbler pad
in the other hand a pen
a playful duel
like kids at school
of poets does begin

Your turn to choose the topic
mine to write the first
I start the rhyme
with four quick lines
now its your turn, do your worst

A wrinkled brow, a ******* up face
then an idea and a smile
that cheeky grin
as you fill it in
gee you sure do take a while

Finally your verse is done
and you coyly hand it back
I read with a rush
and I feel my cheeks flush
"oh come on, you cant put that!!"

But you find it all too funny
and lie back laughing in my arms
and soon the book lies theres forgotten
as we explore each others charms

Winter and spring
play hide and seek
upon a frigid breeze

Mother natures
tug of war
brings mankind to its knees

The howling winds
cross frozen waters
cut us to the bone

Melting snow
and sprouting bulbs
shows we are not alone

And finally
the battle won
tween seasons old and new

Release the thoughts
of things gone by
for life begins anew

"Spare some change?"
you hear me say
but the voice in your head
screams "Go away"

Or you see me there
and cross the street
so you dont have to come
within thirty feet

You look down your nose
at people like me
yet you have no idea
who we used to be

How we were like you
that you probably doubt
but its a trip not far
to going without

It starts when you lose your job
and the money stops coming in
and all of a sudden that buffer
is starting to wear real thin

Then the money saved
becomes money you spent
and you sit there at night
working out where it went

You behind with the mortgage
but not very far
then all of a sudden
they're taking your car

Now you got no job
no means to get round
and hope starts to slide
to that hole in the ground

And next thing you know
you're out on the street
with suitcases and boxes
right there at your feet

And suddenly famlies
are all torn apart
and words fly like daggers
right into your heart

and next thing you know
you are truly alone
with no one to lean on
and no one to phone

and then when you start
just trying to survive
to sleep through the night
and wake up alive

and the friends that you had
are not friends any more
crossing streets just like you
to stay away from the poor

Her name it was Naomi
and she was my first love
I was in grade two
she was in the grade above

she wore ankle socks and a gingham dress
her eyes as big as the number eleven
Oh come on what was I supposed to say
you think I was a poet when I was seven?

She was taller than me by an inch or three
to kiss her I'd stand on a box
but alas we got posted before I got chance
whatever happened to Naomi ***?

when I ask who are you
please don't tell me what you do
for you may as well burst into tears and cry

for to tell me what you do
instead of telling me bout you
is to say what you fear losing when you die

tell what it is that lights your fire
and sends those flames a rising higher
give me a secret about you I can keep

tell me what you mean by love
describe who fits you like a glove
and then tell me all the things that make you weep

tell me about your dreams
and all thats in between
tell me all the different places you would go

but what I want most of all
as the evening shadows fall
is to learn something that even you dont know

I know that last one's hard
but if we just show our cards
we'll have years together in which we will find out

but if you keep them to your chest
never risk and never rest
the only constant thing will be the doubt

so tell me who you are
and show me every scar
spare me nothing for I cannot know enough

and I will give you all thats me
even the things you cannot see
all I ask is you look after them my love

Lower the flags
and turn out the sun
for they wont be home
their battle is done
Turn off the stars
block out the moon
lets share in the darkness
that took them too soon
A moment of silence
or two if you please
please turn off your cars
nothing move but the breeze
Let us all close our eyes
bow our heads for a while
lets remember their faces
remember their smiles
Remember their strength
right up to the last
and pray one day cancers'
a thing of the past

I sit here at my desk again
watching the day go by
Working on the weekend
Why me again, oh why

It's not like I dont have a life
and things I'd rather do
but instead I sit at my desk
looking out the window, feeling blue

And what do I get for my efforts
what makes this all worthwhile
Well to be honest not that much
I dont even get a thanks or a smile

So what say we make this the last one
The last time I sit here like this
Next weekend it will be different
If they dont like it, my *** they can kiss.

Memories of 4am,
after talking through the night.
Falling asleep together,
without turning out the light.

Waking to find your coffee,
already in your hand.
Wishing I was with you,
and not in some far off land.

Counting down the hours,
til we could speak again.
Counting down the weeks and months,
until our next weekend.

They always seemed too far apart.
If only we had known,
one chance was all we’d ever get,
before our time would pass alone.

I used to lie and watch you sleeping,
a peaceful smile on your face.
Now I struggle through the nightmare,
of something else now in its place.

I cannot comprehend the pain,
or know where to begin,
just know that I still love you,
and I can help, just let me in.

Dont hold on to anger
let it go, let it go

Dont lock your words inside you
let them flow let them flow

Dont smother your creativity
let it grow let it grow

And don't hide your personality
let it show let it show

And in the morning I shall wake alone
as always is the case
midst memories of dreams that saw
my arm about your waist

Of time spent with each other
holding hands along the beach
memories of dreams so vivid
makes them seem within my reach

Of simple things and better things
than currently we know
Dreams of time spent as a family
choosing together where to go

Of romantic surprise dinners
and things that now seem so mundane
Such is the tapestry of dreams I have
all of which are in your name

But in the morning I shall wake alone
not see your face nor hear your voice
For reality is not the dream
There you made a different choice

Its ok to say you love me
its ok to say you care
its ok to wish that you were here
instead of over there

its ok to say you got it wrong
on the day you chose to leave
at the time it seemed the only choice
that you needed room to grieve

but the years have not dulled the loss
any more for me than you
and so we have to ask ourselves
what it is that we're to do

but for now it is too early
too soon to think ahead
the words may still taste bitter
but at least they have been said

Don't let pride become your prison
don't let doubt push you aside
it ok the way you're feeling
from it please no longer hide

I don't know what the future holds
for I too am full of doubt
so come and sit right here beside me
speak the truth, we'll work it out

Why is it that the girl next door
always lives so far away
and the dreams we seem to share
always end with “well, one day”

Why is there never clarity
in just what’s meant to be
Why can’t we start off simple
“I like you, do you like me?”

From there we’d take a single step
toward where we want to be
and if that all goes the way it should
then there’s step 2 and then step 3

And before you even know it
all the doubts have gone away
left behind amongst the footprints
of the steps we take each day

Til finally we make our stand
before our family and friends
and start the next stage of our journey
one I hope that never ends

Who decides how long is long enough
in matters of the heart
perhaps we should create a scale
to follow from the start

A scale that says when its ok
to go for that first kiss
and other important milestones
in case the signs we miss

But where do these dates come from
on who's logic is it based
because quite frankly their ideas
tend to leave a bitter taste

Each of us different
and we move at different speeds
some make decisions quickly
and some have special needs

So the answer to the question
should be based on naught but us
and not on thoughts of ones we know
who disagree and make a fuss

Born in Ottawa
Canadian teen idol
Singer songwriter
"Diana" made him famous
A popular "Lonely Boy"