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Mar 23 · 28

23 April 2019

Yesterday an elderly  we still call John,
Told of visits to his wife, in a home,
Where he talks to the ghosts of jelly fish.
Each sting leaves him tired one wish.

He  smelled of pain, drooping his neck,
Twisted grin, laugh at a joke,
Left him with less than before.
Whispers drifted his loss through each door.

B. Whittaker

Mar 16 · 172
16 March 2019

No end to pain, in sorrow’s eyes,
No end to tears, in downcast sighs.
No end to hate, when love has lost.
No place for reason, when life’s no cost.
No room in hearts, where God’s unknown.
No time is left, for madness slain.
No place to hide, our shared shame.

B. Whittaker
Mar 16 · 27

16 March 2019

Gentle Mesmer caressed her shoulders.
Morpheus shared her dreams.
While Eros smiled, Apollo played logic’s harp.
Tender kisses waisted, passioned perfume.
A quiet so deep, galaxies swam,
In it’s warmth.
Who could be loved more?

B. Whittaker
Mar 3 · 98

3 MARCH 2019

Unspent in my pocket, the coins of life rattle, on edge.
Nickels, and dimes, that drive me to the store of possibiltiies.
I “bub” for this and that, joy in the window, and the envy,
Of owning the unownable.
In a moment it will be gone, yet still, there will be change on the bedroom shelf.
Such an itch, unscratchable.

B. Whittaker
Feb 5 · 63


Shivers, Lordy, your hand.
Love, your ******* and thighs.
Your sighs burn my shoulders as I crush you,
In a thousand ways.
Short breaths, the truth of you.
Scent of lilac.

You already know.
Where was I sleeping?
Wait, wait, wait, I am coming! I love you.

Jan 28 · 153
Memory (Haiku)

Lost my memory.
i Wonder where I left it.
My soul not my own.

B. Whittaker
Thanks Mark.
Jan 26 · 38
26 January 2019

Shaking in my arms, we lie on a cushion of doubt.
Less than fear, more than trust, few ever get here.
This empty space, filled with us.

B. Whittaker
Jan 20 · 197
Pointless (Ode to an Oak Leaf)

20 January 2019

Words cannot tell I am.
Truth lives in the silence of the trees,

Holding each other, they tumble
With the joy of wind in the leaves,
Awaiting the rain. '

Trembling under blankets of the dead,
Life calls, singing.

My love twIsts and turns to yours,
Until we return to the unspoken.

There is nothing to say.

B. Whittaker.
Jan 9 · 28
09 January 2019

What is this substance, love, perturbing my senses.
Like the **** laden scent of spring, after a storm.
A Passioned Reflexion of futures, not yet sustained.

Bound in thick leathers, on oaken shelves, , spirit aged one-thousand years,
I lie imprisoned, in chains and shackles of my own hand.

Struggle to keep firm. No battle is won without fiery rooting
Stirring Currents and Waves, Ripping rosy tulip covered sheaves of orchids.

Drive me to mountain heights, showered shivering peaks,
Footprints already filling with snow.

Lift me up again sweet love.
Time has stilled. I am in your arms.,
Jan 2 · 88
No Love
No love

01 January 2019.

What then, if there is no love?
Caress your  fingers, kiss your thumb?
Though my heart, blue and numb?
Will my heart lose its beat?
My stomach cold, no passion’s heat?
The gentle whisper in your ear,
Fill with pain, when we are near?
Trembling leaf, my hand does shake,
Not knowing how our chain will break.

Every morn, palest dawn,
Bursts dreamer’s long.
Clouds will fill every sky,
Blackest crow morning’s cry.

Memories filled with tears.
Only hold wasted years.
Each day I hold the oar,
Passions sweat soil the door.
Keep our love so treasured God.
My love holds true, faithful sue.
Hold me fast, love’s worn for you.
Dec 2018 · 31
Special Moments
Special Moments

There are  special moments, everyday miracles of life,
A note from friend unheard,
A baby sated by  father’s touch, mother’s breast.
Excitement when birthdays arrive, candles flicker,
While life is firm, rooted in a courageous life

A child running on a beach as gentle swells
Caress her footprints, remind us, the restless wonder of life.
The freedom to take risks, the joy of winning, the lessons of failure.
Friends sharing a life with passion and promise.

How did this day come to be?
A symphony or quantum noise?

Why the notes of pain, suffering, pleasure, innocence,  
Love,  death,  undaunted courage?
Why the birds, the trees, the lakes, the mountains,
Colour,  sound, noise, taste, that flourish?
Why the uncertainty, the chaos?
Why is it played in an unknowable number of keys?
Why is it OK when the robin sings, as the worm dies in pain?

So much all in the DAY, but thank you, I am grateful,

Absurd dreams somehow came true.

My goals.
Make new friends.
Help others cope with their DAY.

Make someone smile.
Be  a good friend. Live a good life.

B. Whittaker
Dec 2018 · 31
The Guard
The Guard


Stands at the door,
Gentle smiles as lovers try
To mask truths so no one lies.
Moment’s passion, search for truth,
Gargoyles snarl on granite roof.
Gentle hands caress his sleeves,
Catching taxis as they leave.
Heading home for Christmas Day,
Meetings over, days done,
Toys in wrappings, ribbons spun.
Mistletoe sprites held on high,
Sparkling lights, reindeers fly.

B. Whittaker
My Christmas poem. Happy Holidays.
Dec 2018 · 52
Who am I?
Who am I?

Who am I when you’re not here?
The worm inside, my greatest fear.
Somehow we no longer touch,
Too much space, too much rush.
Time goes by with no embrace.
Memories fade, where is your face?  
Remember when we took a chance.
Close as skin, as we danced.
I melted in your warm embrace.

I asked for just your loving arms.
Now rings a dark alarm.
You’re present, in the same room.
Who am I? cause you’re not here.

B. Whittaker
Dec 2018 · 130

Why do they even bother?
When it’s gone I don’t notice,
Yet someone has to point it out.
Then the suffering of loss begins.

B. Whittaker
Dec 2018 · 31

Dragonfly  on my shirt, near the beach,
Stayed for forty, within easy reach.
We soaked in early morning sun,
For precious time were joined as one.
Small fraction of my time on earth,
Cotton shirt holds no worth.
Eternity  for her, yet there she perched.
Wings clap in my sight,
She was gone, sparkled soft pink light.
Such intimacy so rare and few,
Precious beyond most we knew,
What peace  dragonflies bestow.
Have you noticed" Insects are disappearing.
Nov 2018 · 64
A joyful silence surrounds our laughter and caresses,
Bridges to ways with no addresses.
My love for you has no wait,
A golden door, never too late.
Listen now to our quiet.
Nov 2018 · 43
Welcome Home
Welcome Home
19 November 2018

A COOL,WET MIST, drifting moss-covered rocks, walking the shoreline.
Waves gently toss. The  lighthouse slows time.
A gentle kiss, warms his shiver, coat salt-sea soaked.
He stands for a fortnight, dreaming of her return.
The mist, thickens fog.

Nine months ago,
They meet, exchange oaths of eternal promise. Compromise time, now lost.
He stirs, a lone gull,
Echoing, cries.
His shadow moves, turning the beacon.

Tomorrow, reunion of souls, gift of days left.

Somewhere at sea,
His lady, coming home.

B. Whittaker
Nov 2018 · 145
14 NOVEMBER 2018

I suppose nothing is impossible,
That makes everything so confusing.
Is there nothing I can depend on, except your love?
You are my rock, my foundation.
Now I can see.
Thnik ZEN.......or not. LOL.
Nov 2018 · 54
10 Nov 2018
11 months.

Singing  quietly by the shore,  love arrived.
Passion. Peace. Married.  
Music drifts across planets.
Dance. Our rhythms.

Stars to be born, never discovered,
Harmony. .
We were. We are. We will  be. There.

Echos. Echoing back. Rehearsing.

Life unending, I am here with you.

Gods play our song.

We are never apart.
Oct 2018 · 262
Our Last Kiss
Our Last Kiss

The last kiss of moonlight awakens Gods of the sun,
Bringing the gifts of the day.
The clatter of laden streets,
A sweet chirp  of a tree frog in the forest,
Glistening with the diamonds of a million stars,
Celebrating  creation,
Family and friends, joy and pain,
Priviledged existence.
Fate awaits “Thank-you for the challenge of “”here””.
Another day.
I am most grateful for you.  

B. Whittaker
Sep 2018 · 46
The Bubble

My love shimmers in
Soapy bubbles in my hand
Pop where did she go?

B. Whittaker
Sep 2018 · 156
The Road
The Road

12 September 2018

The road of love appears under my feet with each step.
There was nothingness, now solidity primal,
No points the way.
Chaos drives me on.
“There is no hidden place. Close your eyes.”
“You are going to THAT place, it’s yours
She is waiting for you.”  

B. Whittaker
Sep 2018 · 700
The Path
The Path

9 September 2018

Dedicated to Joanne Harrison

To leave the stage of things gone past ,
Accept new roles, not coward’s task.
Every step new ways show,
New life in fresh winds blow.
Lift your sails, dare to live,
None have more than you to give.
Future is a writer’s dream,
Place to fill every dream.
Drop the anchors, raise the jib.
Time for truth, not other’s fib.
Future is a fantasy,
Yours to write, yours to free.
Every move a new path shows,
Every line a chance to glow.
Bring your loved along with you.
You can do,  you will to do.

B. Whittaker
Jul 2018 · 7.5k
Drowning in Ugly
Drowning In ****

I cannot let the **** win,
Wipe the smile from this old chin,
When I drown in ****’s frown,
My world is just plain upside down.
So much beauty there to see,
Nature, art, poetry,
Stars, moon, astronomy,
A bedtime prayer on tiny knees,
A stranger’s bless you when I sneeze.
Relics from an artist past,
Pyramids, lovely vase, wide Mountain path,
Days of life with loving wife,
Fruitful work beating strife.
So many blessings for you or me,
Fish that swim in open seas.
Cloudy sky, birds that fly,
Ice cream and apple pie,
A nurse’s care when I die.
Nature, flowers, birds and bees,
Fall colors in every tree.
Faith in friends, a warming bath,
A mother’s love, a cooing dove.
So many clips of **** news,
People lost, children bruised,
Fills my heart with aching pain,
Need to find beauty again.

B. T. Whittaker

Wrote this because nothing but horror seems to flood the news, coming up from the U.S. Some days I lose faith and cry for balance. Terror in neon right on the doorsteps. Repeated over and over on Canadian politics for bad decisions, bigotry, and hate.
Drowning in ****.
I couldn't resist reposting this. Not sure things are better for sure
Jun 2018 · 148
28 JUNE 2018

Already late for one hot date,
ONE I left, just locked the door.
Don’t want to see me more.
Passwords all left at home
Can’t turn on my new Iphone
SHE’LL  be ****** sitting alone.
Maybe time I didn’t roam.


Parking meter is down and broke.
Looking for a friend to ****.
Stuck now in the parking lot.
LoonieTwisted in the slot.
Keys left in last nights bar.
Never did get too far.

An invitation to write and send me another verse on modern living. !! I’ll add with your credit.
Jun 2016 · 585

Alice and I down the rabbit hole,
To a world of big and small.
Fat were skinny, short were tall,
Sky all colors we could know.
People there of every size,
Most were crazy, all  were wise.
Trees were soft foam cud-del-yee,
Dandelions bright and free,
Taste like sweet drops, red toffee.
Walk on any wall you please,
Upside down with simple ease.
Fly with birds, sync symphonies.
Words hang from chimeneys,
Hives for kissing wasps and bees.
When we went to sleep at night,
Feather beds tickled us just right.
No money or gold in sight,
No loud noises give us fright
Light was heavy, heavy light.
Right was left, Left a knight,
Kept his sword stuck in his head,
Called his mother uncle Fred.
Freeway was a merry go round,
Children sang with cooing sounds,
Never sick, went old to young,
Crabby apples full of fun.
Stories busy writing selves,
Poems painting doors and shelves.
Reindeer looked like little elves,
Santa was four silver bells.
Christmas came every day,
Calendars were thrown away,
Turned into corn and hay.
Deck of cards all the same,
Chickens played a poker game,
Losers won, no one could tell,
Which was ace when it fell.
Rules were simple write or wrung,
All returned that was undone.
Awkward seen as ballet grace.
Slowest won every race.
Fastest got there first you see,
Ribbon holder, wanna bees.
No direction north or south,
Bravest men meek as mouse.
Food is free at every bar,
Get into a nowhere car,
Think I'll have another beer,
No plan of leaving here.

— The End —