What I love about Canada
is her bold statement of stark,
pure white, interlaced with
lush green foliage and dark rock!
It's truly an impressive sight to behold!
But her auburn hues of fall leaves one breathless whilst sending hearts soaring and yearning in the one extended beat!

Time arrives at the station
and hops off that train;
through clearing misty tendrils
one can but notice
its bright travelling cape.
( Who wears these anymore? )
Those caught in Time's gaze
are wrapped in a moment supreme,
where eternal lapses into present,
brilliantly, ever out of sequence; 
whose master conjures curiosities,
making this drudgery worthwhile.

. 




The door shuts behind, 
key turns, footsteps 
stravege after 
a tedious shift; 

eyes lift up 
then revert back 
to telly, magazine, 
PS3 and tablet. 

The dining table 
is empty yet cluttered 
inhabited by non-edible 
non-essential stuff. 

'There should be 
something or other 
in the fridge, ' 
a mouth points. 

'Got that, thanks.' 
Footsteps stravege back, 
that's what it feels like 
to be a meal-ticket. 

The door slams shut.



_ __✒
●○
°

there is a face, open as a book
in an instant allows you a look
neither clouded or jaded or strained
whether befuddled or blamed or shamed

there is a face that freely smiles
immediately dissolves these guiles
perhaps it's perfect light or angle
maybe breeze and breath that mingle

but there is your face that looks to mine
that neither word nor song dare define
and yes, your face will accompany me
however near or far as seasons decree

peering out this excuse of a window
a crack, really, into a view less spectacular
barely catching self from tripping over
in this bed-sized atrocity of a room
that costs heaps more than an arm & a leg

oh, and don't venture out that door, today
that job you landed wasn't your first choice
and coffee tastes like something died in it
no, don't step into the street ever again
not for a second rate-life-- scraps for mains

take another look and refocus your lens;
hey, the smoke isn't that big, after all*



_ _ __✒
●○
•

for many a thing
we would often stay
a few others would
most likely detour
then lead us astray

for many a deed
are flowers after
a funeral march or a
get-away drive during
an explosive discharge

should we go and
leave behind, our
trophies and triumphs past
what's left's an orange rind
and a lonely sail-less mast

dumbing down is the new smart
if you wanna get ahead best start
too many roses are no longer red
and violets are welts of our cred
but with all things photoshopped
all blemishes are airbrushed and
any rough edges can be cropped

       petal by petal

feather-pendulum descends

              you fall and wither




●○
°

for love steadfast and true
as a plum tree that blooms
in winter, will wait for you

Monday morning
distant yawning
scurrilous deceit
sweet as coffee
promising smiles
autographed with
stained teeth and
coffee breath that
lingers under sheen
of oral care products
ghosts of Sunday's
weekend ebbing

long, top down drives
even shirtless tans
sweet strawberry kisses and
glorious watermelon stains

laughter lifting through the trees
glimpses of sun blest promises
sugar coated whispers
catching in the breeze

fruit bowls, waterholes
and refreshing icy poles
interlacing fingers share
starry nights and lazy days*



_ _ __ ✏
●○
°

Don't follow a blinded choice,
let us not sup on spammed poison.
it's time to finally rejoice;
A day to understand passion:
Your season to rise above oppression.

Learn from past admirations,
always keep your chin above.
With head full of contemplations;
let it soar satin skies, unshackled dove,
that follows home's scent of love.


When love's fragrance is your bearing
The course will be without hurdle
self confidence proves your landing
Giving answers to life's riddle
With peace you can unshackle your saddle.

Straddle me with lip-gloss pout,
ensnare your prey with lip-sheen smile:


lift firm pecs to eye-shadow wink,
eye-liner proposition this studied guile;


and I have naught to live for now
than be with you for just a while__✒








○●•°

you, many-tongued mimic
impersonator, ventriloquist
mockingbird of loud repute
whose repertoire amazes
pied-pipering attraction
that hooks even mutants:
mockingjay or jabberjay
fictive or literal pursuit
hospital smock would suit;
in its vile end, we pretend
for one moment, to comprehend
in a twinkling, a final spark
our earthly existence, spend*



●○
°

'

Once, so many years ago,
now a distant place and clime;
moments of thought and life shared,
each moved in perfect time.

Words in unison, hearts pulsed;
so intimate, each gesture,
each expression fears repulsed;
companions of great measure.

Now it seems we're worlds apart;
nothing more in common share.
The last desired thing to start,
fray last threads beyond repair.

Tomorrow bears no sunrise
with correspondent promise;
about oneself realise
quite the monster: surmise.

To let bygones be bygone,
this callow heart has not learnt;
perhaps hope had wily drawn
from past flames this quill has burnt.




_ _ _ ✒
●○
°

exiled here, in this emptying parcel
of Lot's, son of incestuous famine
your delight in God, your king,
fades away in the lifting dust;

leaving you with sick longing
for the fruitfulness of home--
the house of bread in Whom is praised:
may your kin kindly redeem your blood*



●○
°

makes you wanna disappear;
in many ways it's made clear,
others are lower than dirt to you;
silences are cold and not a few*



●○
°

when the biting autumnal breeze

sweeps past these craggy rocks

its howling whispers - seducing;

sparing no thought of mercy

blinking lights on distant shores

waltz with pearly stars of night

pontoons my heaving, ready heart

across dark, deep, brewing waters

billowy clouds float aimlessly by

nonchalant in a blank staring sky

30 December 2016:
Happy New Year?
Goodbye 2-0-1-6,
Farewell PF
Parting is such crushing sorrow- - -

The reason for my articulation
is simple and utilitarian-
I seek not perfection,
But I seek ablution.

Perfection is reserved for those
with time to spend and money to burn.
My soul requires release,
its ransom necessitates recompense:

Expiated expeditiously, in a flurry
of words that scathe my every thought.

paisley print
sunflower smile
sat alongside
a leopard that ate parsley
paw in hand
waiting on the sand
for flying fish
to skip upon
cobalt banners
as lazy breezes
pan flute recollections
of this Iberian summer

atypical,
in conclusive
      after conviction
once enough--
all-sufficiency
independent of
popular priorities

is to Be or Not
perhaps apart 
from partying
to debaucheries

atypical
               this love
begottenness from above
alights anew, like a dove
heaven-sourced repatriation
     vile, in estimation
clouded vision, rejected
by inutile estimation

until a singular day
glistens in the sky

put on your headphones and  listen*




●○
°

#life   #hope   #salvation   #relationship­  #thoughts   #thought   #redemption

'

squashed cabbage leaves, 
crushed petals, broken stems 
strewn along grey slush 


wind whisks cobbled street, 
gravel crunches under 
hooves and booted feet 


rain-drooped marquees 
whisper freshest gossip; 
clock tower tolls on the hour



__✒
○●
°

Any boy can dance 

even for girls harbouring 

ill jested kabuki livery 



men never opt pretty

quintessent revelry 

spending time under vague 



worldly xanadic yearning zeugma.

I have inquired of God
Where is it?

still couldn't find it

where they were looking
I looked as well

only to ask God again

I found bread and wine
and again plead for clarity

later asked myself, why?

then in silent supplication
an after image formed

compliant compunction

a human stave fades into
a rolled stone and sheets

teleportation and roaring wind

the answer lay in what
the eye could not see

in #what the mind could not grasp

from the heart, I sought
and from the spirit,  I received*





_ _ __ ✒
●○
°

Called a pain in the neck .
-                                    always in the way
Deaf in the ear
Stubborn and strong willed
It's time they realised
That's the way it's always been
And that's the way it'll always be!
                                        I call the shots
I was born breech.

With disdain they looked upon one Billy McGee
a boy that promised never to be
a rep that's scarred and scratched
for sure his name's mismatched
as darker skin ya'ever did see
on blackish hair with reddish flecks of Billy McGee.

A red haired aboriginal boy
matches were only a toy
and he was caught red handed
and always branded
the troublesome fire starter.
poor boy had no farda
he was stolen in a generation
trouble, his one destination
for any of his wild sown seed.
Never had a chance, Billy McGee.

revolutions of the second hand
are innumerable to a watchful eye,
which is no comfort to this bruising

...shame

nor can heart's run far enough away
from pulsing, cancerous gangrene;
so off to the darkest mile it treads

...softly

sifts into the cooling of a fading day,
a gentle crushing blow fixes completely
these drowning, despondent smiles

...of yesterday

where wafting wavelets wail forlornly,
while whispering affections, once silent;
hearkening back to more innocent times

...found wanting

why stay, you say
when it's glaringly obvious
why many have left

come and gone

in the dark of noonday sun
shadows are shortest
our fleet-footed fun

so, stay awhile

in its cooling embers
a promise that no one remembers
lights your path in the night*




●○
•

your tears water another's garden
your eyes shine with longing upon their yard
no wonder your grass has gone paler
by the day your ministrations tend theirs
while all the while your own wilts & withers*



●○
°

snares and high hats
toms and bass boom
percussive solo now
bursting through as
these shoes carry a
wracked form ever
closer to your door
petals unhinge and
freefall, knuckles
pale knock knocking
deafening drumbeats
roar, tsunami  r o a r
drmsticks hit th'floor

our countdown now begins
hear its relentless ticking
a stuffed rabbit hurtles
it heckles at mocking tocks
'round a beaten racing track

come, let's rise and stop
'second hand from orbit
circumnavigated trips on
Picasso's addled clock, let
no moss inhabit our rock

time is a vagabond
travels along byways
across life's big pond

its ticker's a bicker--
a nagging that's thicker
than freckles on a face

its tocking reminds you
of armless, moustached pirates
that haven't got a clue



●○
°

here in this venue, we bury each day,
a time capsule of words and thought
hoping to one day arrive at a Eureka
of sorts; there tying-up neatly, each
unfinished business that tomorrow
bought from yesterday's backroom*




●○
°

°

When we look not with our eyes 
convince ourselves of impossibilities-

typical gravel turns into motorways 
without tyres, we saw ourselves as cars 

eyes glazed, paved speed of reckoning 
just as rubber tearing at bitumen
 
convinced we will get to there
[that isn't here]
at trip's end, we find ourselves a typical mob 

typical gravel looks like typical gravel 
as we stoop out of that beat-up ute 

our eye catches the side-mirror 
stymied by our shoes that crunch 

making familiar sounds on familiar gravel



_ __ ✒
●○
°

a quick notion of poetry in motion
dare you click the link
find yourself taken
             for a ride

some, too many, find this
diversion annoying
others, on the other hand
don't mind...

      whoppee, for a joy ride!*



●○
○

Once,
so long ago now, it seems;
Every thing touched
& everywhere
that I turned,
her scent permeated
both air & skin.

Spendthrift,

malingering
along
uncharted frontiers
liquid sorrow
bastes
unformed words
whose crystal
resonant vibrance
reverberates
within
a pilgrim soul
gaze once more
upon your
lint-filled navel
and share
the blossom
of heaving *****
therein find
a brokenness
with no need of mending

Such loss still remains
even through the years
our words echoing
with poignant longing
each phrase, each line
seeking to hush our fears

it's not difficult to be
fatalistic and defeatist
when by our nature, we
look up from techno stupor
and connect proverbial dots
but also rises within, instinct
to stand up for what is right and
fight, moreso, if our toes are under
those of Goliath on a smug campaign
in an obviously uneven playing field

it's not like these
feelings are sitting
alone in an otherwise
empty refrigerator
nowhere else to go
waiting for a random
wanton wounding
surely, surely it'd
hurt just the same

Daedalean feathers
tutored our wings to fly

while in open fields
or vaulted ceilings

flowing angel tears have
taught our hearts to cry*




●○
°

As long as there are no longer
tears of sorrow and regret

May the kindest gestures
of filial affection ever beget;

our friendship has been
blest from shore to shore,

each wondrous exchange
our devotions now restore

Friends that are dear to me
I hope I shall ever see
Our wings soar ever free
Let the four winds so decree!

Not all upgrades are welcome,
Many don't do much to improve;
But one's status quo would
Have been bettered when
You are now deemed "a waste of talent,"
More than previous reckoning:
A waste of space and breathe and time.

whenever you feel all alone,
remember this simple truth:
we're really all alone, together*...


●○
°