..... And if you leave me today I'll have nothing to say but to me it will always be an unfinished happy ending....

She asked me,

I hesitated.

And I lost her.



-HIY

I watch the moths bounce off,
And imagine every attempt
I’ve ever made to love.
I feel the night like they do,

I feel the flight like they do, futile,
And remaining drawn to the flames;
If only to pray upon altars ash.
And when the goddess leans

To burn once more,
When the mosquito licks my arm;
I scratch and scratch and scratch
To bleed;

I hope the one next to me,
I hope she slices when I sleep,
I hope she plants flowers,
I hope she was jubilant,

And if only for those few hours.

The stone was cast intending a wrath,
But the ripple was musical and perfect art
Feelings tiptoed inside my heart...
Svelte like a ballerina's stretched arch...
  
The breath wispy tickled wicked
The lips feathery hurriedly flitted
My eyes closed while you left hot trails,
Your fingers coarse marking my skin bright...

When your head rested on the curve of my *******
My heart beat hummed in unison with your breath
The heat bunched and pooled inside me
Your fingers tracing mine slowly...

The butterfly kisses you placed quick,
My unadorned neck glistened with your lazy licks,
The moans torn from inside wild
Resounding our union, an unrestrained tide...

Leaning on the wall, closing my eyes,
All I could see was the vast darkness of my mind..
Tunneling my way through random paths,
I tread through those not so forgotten thoughts...

What I saw was smiles, banter and laughs,
The pains well concealed behind the cheerful mask,
Satisfied, I passed more such charades,
Stumbling for the nook, where the smile is only a facade...

It was lying there in a corner growing roots ,
Surrounded by makeshift mazes, difficult to look through,
Slipping in, I was prepared for an onslaught of pain,
Yet, the force of attack surprise me every time.

Braving through, I touched the core; very gentle,
Wincing as if it was the day of trental,
Blood singing my elegy and not yet dry,
The oil on my canvas still gleaming with pain...

I sat hugging my knees and a ready made smile,
With so much ease and practiced beguile,
The smile slipped, when I heard the door knock,
My eyes turned to see you walk...

Leaning on the wall, closing my eyes,
I could see the ray of light,
Not wanting to meet those inquisitive eyes..
Shivering, I closed and tried not to pry open my eyes...

A  poet was given
a life sentence today.

He'll be going the way
of Bob Marley and Frank Zappa.

I saw him perform
over the last few decades.
Hip he was and always will be.

In the ranks of Canadian poets,
his peers being  Gordon Lightfoot,
Leonard Cohen and Mister Neil Young.

He wrote about the Canadian Prairies,
about New Orleans sinking and nautical disasters.
All with soul and intellect.

A friend said,
"You didn't have to
Know know know him
to love love love him".
And that's true.

With a heavy heart I ponder the noon news.
I recall the day I heard of John Lennon's ******.

The only time I ever cried
over the death of a celebrity.

Thoughts and prayers out to you Gordie,
and your family and friends.

Ironically tragic for one so Tragically Hip.

Things get broken
Hearts
Minds
It's no-one's fault
It never is
Not really
Butter fingers and distraction
Without malice or forethought
Things
Like hearts and minds
Slip
And shatter on hard contact with reality

                                       By Phil Roberts