I owe, I owe it's off to work I go
The debt is piling up the dollars come so slow

It looks like I took a turn for the worse
I hit a fork in the road and come down with
some kind of voodoo curse

These monetary blues I do detest
They've taken away my happy-go-lucky
and put me under house-arrest

My muse she flew out the door and is on-the-run
Screaming over her shoulder, it ain't a crime to be unhappy
but it isn't any fun

I owe, I owe, it's off to work I go
The debt is piling up and the dollars come so slow

Is it really
Out in space
Or a rendering
Looking to be
In a place...
I will not apologize
For the moon
Distracting me

Sikh and ye shall find

How can you say you love God and God loves you
When you're afraid of every small bump in a road
Do you feel he failed you?  

Every corner is planned and you believe you are god
No wonder you fear, Fear God and be free  baby
We all are small babies, we all play god,  we all do.

I grow in your garden
As you grow in mine

We all have our devils
One's never a hard find

We are all One forever
Look and you'll  see a sign

When you love
when you leave

When you laugh
when you cry

When you grieve
when you die

Missing you Lord
On bended knee
Be with me fully

Allowing my life through you
As you choose to live through me

Richly, always peaceful, free
Lone spirit cries, fractured in mind
Evil's Spaniard in the works

Save me from my plans, my instincts
I lay my thoughts, my very will and life
Please be with me in You

Sliding through the cracks
Screaming monkey on my back
Nowhere to go nothing to do
Sitting in a bucket of crying some blues
When a love is nothing just some fact
You pass that crossroad and you can't turn back
In the hutch a bottle of gin just a way to hide
Doesn't fix the problem just dulls the inside
Climbing out the well dripping from the dunk
I tire and rest a bit no breeze to blow the funk

Trouble
To be found.

Some days it's to be found
in your little Jean pocket.
Sometimes a friend drops in

I love the gentle way the gentle
Tells me I'm alright no miss-step

There is a place to hang your hat
It's better than 'Here's you hat
what's the hurry...;

But still. It's all there when you walk though, you rise you make do

Have

January's heavy snow
wash body, mind, soul.

I can be some brutal
or so you say you can tell,
but stop and look again,
this could be a match made in heaven
for two angels straight from hell.

We could sit here
and stare the clock down,
stare it right off the wall..
or dust off our top hats and spats
and strike out on a crawl.

Now, I know what it's like to be drunk
and I know what it's like to be sober,
I know what it's like to be young
and quickly growing older.

The safest bet by a long shot
is to keep time hung up on the wall,
make believe we can predict
just which way the chips are going to fall.

So shake those dice
and give 'em a blow,
before they hit the velvet
you'll know how it's going to go,
we could do it up just like a drug
no need to convince me, I'm sold.
It's back to throwing out a life line
to draw some heat out of this late winter's cold.

It looks like I took
A turn for the worse
I hit a fork in the road
And came down
With some kind of voodoo curse

These monetary blues
I do detest
They've taken away
My happy-go-lucky
And put me under house arrest

My muse she flew
Out the backdoor
And is on the run
Screaming over her shoulder
It's not a crime to be unhappy
But it isn't any fun

The tiny town's talented tailor
swiftly sews silken suits,
in his shop he plays the Wailers,
Bob Marley fills his boots.
Beside his shop
sits Susie's Sushi,
she serves him lunch
every Tuesday.
He leaves a tip because
she treats him well,
He's got a crush and
she can tell.
After lunch
it's back to work,
measuring here
and stitching there,
everthing is done
just savoirfaire.
All the town folk
say he is the master.
He smiles at this
and works all the faster.
Then on the corner
the clock strikes five,
with the last suit hung
he says enough of this jive.
He shuts the light
and locks the door.
Nine bells tomorrow
and he'll be back for more.

On the bad days, anxiety comes in waves,
they lap at what once was a solid shoreline.
The sands turn to mud as they roll back to the sea.

On the good days I can hold-my-own,
feeling I belong and if I don't, I at least, fit-in.

Those days when the moments are stitched together,  
creating a hand-spun tapestry and life feels well worth it,
as I greet friends and the strangers that I haven't met before, alike

There was a time
When you could move mountains
With your smile, and the earth
Was such a beautiful bridge.

Now Ursa dips deeply into
The dark well of sky while
Little sister plays hide and seek
Perishing thoughts that ride down with bitter cool

Our birth has been breached
As we cling tight to earlier yearnings
And the wailing wall sounds
A whisper to the cry in my mind

How can you or I claim innocence
When we have both been here before
Shall we cast down our glance in shame
Having lied through eyes of stolen charm

Those times when in spirit
Our fingertips would brace
Prying open closed doors
That had been slammed shut
By a life swung hard

What fear brings this memory
Doesn't every tree stand alone
Until you look below the ground

She doesn't do landscapes,
she does landfills.
No ocean liners on the sea,
only shipwrecks on the bottom.

She states: Jesus was the best Riddler.

Evening's
long shadow
lay peaceful.
A walk in the neighborhood
where windows are looked at,
not through.
Not shattered with alarm.

I stood there
music with me,
through me

As natural as
walking after
learning to do the creepy crawl

Pacing my self, the breath
of night filling my lungs

Feeding on the relaxed electric vibe

Bobbing on the ocean
Thrown to and fro
Always going under and clawing
upward toward the sun
For just one more gasp
I am naked, clothes too heavy
Not to discard
Cold, no warmth of love
Just a sinking feeling
That is becoming like an old friend
Turning their shoulder to you
As they give you an evil eye
That you never thought existed
in any bone or muscle of your beloved gone compadre

Gone are the days of bluesy metaphors
Of rocking and rolling
Of the opening of doors
Gone are those days of Jazz and Funk
Of the *** Pistols, of Johnny and Sid
And that vicious junk
Gone too the days of Healy and Cohen
Along with Hank in the backseat and the itch of morphine
Gone along with  the one who loved the Alien
Martin and Cooke, Elvin and Elvis now free
Topac and Biggy and The Right to Party
I had a look and listen, I know the many I'm missing
Gone are the days of Alterative and Grunge and the Garage Band
Gone are Cobain with Leadbelly's "In the pines refrain"
Soon are gone the days of strings and horns
Taking their place are keyboard tickled by Unicorns

It's like a catch-22
You ****** if you don't
Your ****** if you do
To be owned, own like a slave like a slave

I tell you what
I will do the prep work
You stand and keep six
And I'll take a match  to the spoon
And cook-up another fix

Waiting for mister green
Is like having an open hole in your head
Somedays living in this world
Feels like I'd be better off dead

Yes they'll loose the lions
Here in the Coliseums ring
But it's over until the Fat Lady sings

It's dark but I'm not alone
I can't see but I can feel the
Light shinning on my imperfections

I'm **** for the first time
I didn't want you to see me like this
Yet I let you

I'll bleed on your floor
I'll bleed at your feet
I'll bleed on the killing floor

Crack the whip on my back
All I wanted was for you to stop
But still, not to stop

My knees shook at the sight of matches
Are you to burn my ego alive
What would be left

I  put your vision
in an empty chair
trying to make peace
when you have gone

Instead I cry to George Jones

I asked a friend who always walked barefoot on city streets:
What do you do when you step on a piece of glass.
She looked me in the eye while the words came rolling off her tongue:  

"I take it out... dummy"

I saw her beauty and heard her free sweet voice when we stood so close. Over time I grew very fond of her and then she broke my heart. I saw her gentle sway when she turned her back to me and walked away.

Ears ringing, endless tinnitus, droning the word 'dummy'.

I'm done with cute

Trouble
To be found.

Some days it's to be found
in you little Jean pocket.
Sometimes a friend drops in

I love the gentle way the gentle
Tells me I'm alright no miss step

There is a place to hang your hat
It's better that 'Here's you hat
what's the hurry.......

But still. It's all there when you walk though, you rise you make do

I hinted, she blushed
I rode waves inside
Is it just attention I seek
I lift and carry and know
Not the direction I go
I try to reconcile two outcomes
One cancelling another out
Is it ticker-tape in April
Avoiding The Fool
When does it belong, how do I mold it into belonging

Didn't think of it for you
Hardly  in line with me
Took me to the brink
Everyday is one to live
The less you think the more you give
I found a way out, it's on the inside
I tire  blown-out, lets hope the donut ride
A pound of flesh beats some metaverse
I found the thrill, no blueberry hill
Perhaps a matter of a Will
Can't catch it, bury it with the hatchet
Maybe an old movie, True Grit
Freedom hides in words

Missing you Lord
On bended knee
Be with me fully

Allowing my life through you
As you choose to live through me

Richly, always peaceful, free
Lone spirit cries, fractured in mind
Evil's Spaniard in the works

Same me from my plans, my instincts
I lay my thoughts, my very will and life
Please be with me in You

Bits of ceramic caster from a chair leg,
A coatrack rests on the floor.
Any minute now he'll right himself.
Paintings askew, mats run too far down the hall...

Shuffling passed snoring bodies
Stricken from one's too many, hundred's not enough
Pizza off the table, straight to the pie-hole
Looking hard, and wondering, what the ****!

Is a goodtime a good time, maybe.
Maybe a good-time's a bad time maybe.

Hide and seek
Playing heartstrings
Allowance of resonance

Bounced off brow
Humpty cracks
trust, an eggshell

I believe we both grew

She doesn't do landscapes,
She only does landfills.
No ocean liners on the sea,
Only shipwrecks on the bottom.

She states: Jesus was the best Riddler.

Session man turned burglar
Started robbing every second house


He was doing alternate takes

Sliding through the cracks
Screaming monkey on my back
Nowhere to go nothing to do
Sitting in a bucket of crying blue sky
When a love is nothing just some fact
You pass that crossroad and you can't turn back
In the hutch a bottle of gin just a way to hide
Doesn't fix the problem just dulls the inside
Climbing out the well dripping from the dunk
I tire and rest a bit no breeze to blow the funk

Bless you wherever you are
Windswept child on a shooting star
Restless Spirit depart
Still we're deep in each others heart

Some people say it's over
Now that we've spread our wings
But we know better darling
The hollow ring is only last years echo

Bless you whoever is holding her now
Be warm and kindhearted
And remember although love is estranged
Now and forever our love will remain

Go and have
Your ideas
Just as long as
Your ideas don't
Encroach on
The idea of what
I would have
My life ideally be

Cashing out
at the grocers

I complained,
boy these prices
are really going up fast.

The cashier spat out:
It's the Russians, Russian oil-

We human beings can be a sad and sorry lot.

Politics play, a false game
A play of Monopoly with a banker cheat
Play one time, play two
There be no three

Consumerism
Be a slave's chain

Everybody knows, nobody cares
The label's at the door, I promise you
I will lie no more

Breathe deep and step now
Wear it well, and you can tell

When a slave's chains don't remain

On Vancouver's eastside
The ******'s roam
Cafe's drill holes
In their tablespoon's
Curved bowls
So they don't end up in
The pocket of an addict
Looking to cook-up a fix

borrowed money
government grant
going to open a funny business

No more
cigar, cigarette cigarillo
don't smoke no more legal ****
ain't chasing a dragon
don't speed me up the street
oh my god I'll tell you though
My Zippo is litigated to candle

**** hit the fan

do we have them or do they have us

My small account
I'm ignored by a lot less people

in ottawa they protest
saying enough is enough
a sign on the capital reads
justin is a cry minister
he hides from the people
using covid rule
reaping what he sow

tall steel and glass
hold in honking horns
and exhaust fumes
another sign:
make justin a
drama teacher again

cars and trucks and canucks
there be no better winter sport
family abound children engulfed
in four letter words
you can't have a game of hockey
without a few pucks

Went to see my shrink the other day
For some unknown reason
He felt the need to tell me he was a Liberal
I told him I identify as a Paradox
He said that was strange
He had heard of Furries
But never has anyone identified
As a pair of Doc Martins before

John the revelator wrote:

All the angels in heaven sang
Ceaseless praise unto the Lord
The Lord finally asked them to stop
He said all the praise was going to his Godhead

The cat is on the ***
Trying to weasel a treat
Meow, meow is all she say

Could be like her, well taken care of
All needs met, each and every hour
All the live-long day

A lingering ego be a bruised apple of my eye
I don't need a death sentence
To know that I'm alive

Sitting in amusement, falling in love
With a muse that visits on occasion
A muse meant for art in art of the amused

Some glances at various watercolors
Hung from walls, strokes and dabs; smears, smudges,
Peeking out from under matting

Dry oceans, rainclouds no longer heavy and wet
Crafted by a friendly schizophrenic
While half in the bag, I'll bet

A smile beneath my nose,
A tear slips from the corner of my eye
I don't need a death sentence to feel that I'm alive

Reaching for a treat, she gives a precious growl and comes:
Sleek and quick. My fingertips feel her gentle nibble
So goes a night at home.

bit a nail off today
how am I going to pull off
  fingerpicking now

bit nervous I guess, I confess

everybody's right, nobody is wrong
a dose of hard-times makes a soft soul strong

don't ask more than I can handle though
always slow carrying a heavy load

how to pull off
another gruesome day
change the behavior but the nature stay

been a farmhand, music man and handy baker
bit nervous I guess, to meet my maker

not seen a good day since the day before last
  you can ask me but  I can't think that fast

bit nervous I must confess that I'm a bit nervous I guess

Picking nasty notes
Not the yellow ones
That stare back at you right
Before you open the fridge-door
But, blue ones that wave to my ear
Under the moon that is
Breaking through the picture window
Notes in the air, notes expressing despair
The moon shines for no one
It is late, no traffic
The radiator hisses and ticks and pops
Trying hard to vocalize between plucked notes
Mighty vibrations vibrating
Blues dark blue, blues light blue
Blues hurting, angry, breaking free
Into a turquoise green-blue sea
Back to the black of night
With the moonlight and a salty tear on ones cheek