Face to face with a habitual liar
make your words  heard when you say
Hey you liar, your pants are on fire.
Save that ******* and pull yourself higher.

Use your words when they say
''Vote for me". Tell them
they can't change things and if they could
they make welcome the snipers bullet.

Use your words to heal the unhealthy
Let them know there is a better life
Everything changes like everything should,
when you begin to rearrange things
There's a greater possibility for good.

Shuffle your train of thought bearing witness to something worthwhile
Let go of the ****, throw it on the ground to help your garden grow.
When you see it for real you can be the winner, or at least place or show. Everyone will see the change, making it hard not to know.

Use you words to change the way of love
Let them know that they don't fall in love.
They only uncover the love that was always there.
Love isn't only in the air, love is ultimately everywhere.

Use your words when you have done another harm
You freedom begins with your follow-through,
Actions  have always spoken louder that words.
Without an action you only squawk like  hungry  birds.

Use your words to summon your creator,
knowing the truth of how selfish you are.
Ask for guidance, and leadership, every day, and in every way.
Remember we are kindred spirits, we are all one.
Let that attitude be the one way, the one way that you display.

The Poet's Corner wants to fill me.
My Doctor warns me of the danger,
already one leg is gone,
though I want all four limbs to be done with,
I strain not to be altered by
anything other than myself.

Tall trees laying down
with broken backs.
It looks a mess out there,
so man gets busy and does
what man does best.  They
commence to cutting corners.

Inside four walls I begin to cut
with a rusty pen knife
and the infection spreads.
I didn't do it for the show of it all,
I did it out of an old, old ghost
that just won't leave me alone.

as
the dark
once more
divides the light

wishes being fulfilled
bellies still filled

the crackle of
the monitor's fire

a layer of snow
softens any kind of blow

this new year
has to deliver

The best part of being dead is nothing.

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 is to be drunk
And I know what it's like to be sober
I know what it is 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 it's going to go

Shake those dice and give them a blow
By the time they hit the velvet
You know just how it's going to go
We could do it up just like a drug
You don't have to convince me I'm already sold
It's back to throwing out a life line
To draw some heat out of this late winter's cold

three minutes walk
from my home
a giant park
with trails
and a few
waterfalls

beautiful
is the way
to describe it

the roar
of the falls
are hypnotizing and

in that momentary trance
time slips away

the smell
of the furs
and pines
the tall trees
guide your eyes
to the pale bluest
of blue skies

the trails
that lead you
through rocky terrain
still icy making it
a bit of a challenge
for unsure footing

time
spent
clears the head
and resurrects
restoring the spirit

three minutes
from my back door
what more could a person ask for

My mind
showing me colours
that I could not believe.

Honed stories,
blended edges
making a collage.

My dreams at night
are well worth
this life that I am spending.

Silence echoes in the dance,
playing with the edges of time,
dreams holding everything together
while I sew coats for them.

Stunned by the light
that Silence sprayed,
the dance stopped
and went away.

My mind
floating in colours
that it made me believe.

Stop and think
whether you're one
alone or in the drink
too much of
a lot of nothing
to the fingers
doing the clutching
I'm full of it
it's wasted on me
"I'd never join a
club that would
accept me
as a member"
And so it goes
as I sit on the curbside
wearing a **** eating grin

tall pines
birch trees
lining the trail

high cliffs
running streams

waterfalls
spilling over rock

smashing into
pools below

ears attuned
to forest creatures

dusk
fast approaching

a full grown doe
meanders

a young buck
follows

I wonder
who it is

that feels
more fear

in that moment
we are one

Eight-Forty Five,
sitting in a lawn chair
in the drizzle.
A lot of talk about
cancellation.

Hundreds
of crossed fingers,
the air is thick with mist
and muffled language.

Off goes the first bang,
behind us a kid
shouting out
play by play...

Two barrels,
rapid fire,
on and on.

I watch the spikes,
and hear the
thunder claps.

I imagine
I would see
just what I am
seeing
had I put
my finger in
a light socket.

The thin
spindles of light
reminding me of
road ****,
porcupine
for certain.

The night
draws to a close,
people pushing
and shoving
their way back
to their cars.

Labour day,
2014,
not that
we need an excuse
to have some fun.

Any night
of any day
will do just fine,
the ohs and awes
all over...
'till the next time.

No need to ramble
               no need to fret
                   no need
                     going home in a snit

All day
   every day
I wake up
       and know I'm blessed

I'm my
only front man
   and this
you have to understand

Not going anywhere
               I haven't planned

Each road can be rocky
       sometimes it's a smooth sail

Nobody has the answer
    nobody knows what's Noah and the whale


I found out I found this out
              move with a groove
                      that gives one safe passage
                         Don't be buggered by
                                      some tarts eye lashes

Knock yourself out
     let ink bleed from your veins
If you didn't call all in
        I would think that was strange.

Sometimes I feel it, yes I can
I'm wrapped around your finger yes I am
The way you do my head it's just no good
The way you do my head not like a good girl should  

She'll slink up behind you bro
She hid in the garden don't you know
Everybody said she was before her time
She'll sneak up behind you and commit the perfect crime

But I find that it's alright yeah it's okay
I'll get what I need just for today
It's alright yeah it's okay
I'll get some of what I need just for today

She'll slink up behind you bro
She hid in the garden don't you know
Everyone said she was before her time
She'll sneak up behind you and commit the perfect crime

The coffee is going down and I'm waking up
I got a **** load of joy enough to fill a truck
Down by the waterfront I'll take the plunge
I went through the nineties I lived through grunge

But it's alright yeah it's okay
I'll get what I need just for today

If we don't walk alone
And we get to give and feel love
Does it makes it all worthwhile
We plan ahead and have some input
Thinking we're in control
We think we're enlightened
That it's all okay
And try to wear a smile
Our dreams don't die
The people around us do
And we just wait like the other shoe
We hit the ground running
And it's a funny thing
The only time we pause
Is when something
Wakes us up
And let's us know
That we give a ****
This thing we do
This being Human
The big denial
The fudged balance sheet
The final breakdown
None to discreet
We can only begin the best we can
We can only end with our head up
Having been a small help perhaps
To our brothers and sisters
As we draw one last sip
From the loving cup.

i have a
name as long as
        a gang plank

questioning
    over heard
         whispers

dog
eared pages
        bark
         in a book with
            a broken spine

innocuous radio
  blurting bubbles
     to light on
   sleeping beauty's
      unmade bed

kinda
like an
eccentric

living his life

with
three
cats

waking
up in
the middle

of the
night

pinching
a flea off
his *****

They are there lurking
they talk so smooth

Trying to get you in the grove
if you please, they be perky

A little hole and
the boat don't float

If you please
come follow me
come follow me if you will

You be kind
while they un-wind

And bury you
in a shallow grave

I want a bar
Where I can smoke a cigar
And not have it be a big deal

I want a bar
Where I can have Surf 'n' Turf
While I watch Hockey in May

I want a bar
Where you can have a bump
And not worry about the Po-Po

I want a bar
Where clothing is optional
And you can stretch out on a sofa

I want a bar
Where if the phone rings
I'm not here even if I am

I want a bar
Where I can run a tab
And when I've had enough they call me a cab

In a world
Where we throw things away

You can shovel all night
It's still on display

You got your bag
And you put it in a pile

Then burn it, what a rip
I want to go some place else

Somewhere where they
Recycle everything

If we put any more plastic
Into the ocean

Pretty soon we'll
Be able to walk on its waves

Pull a Jesus
When to know Him   ...frees us

Not the plastic jesus on the dash
Not the Reverends looking for cash

A revolutionary look at the world
No more not taking the blame

To do that is insane.

A spider's web clings
as I walk under
the awning.
What the hell
am I writing.
The muse is
missing and I
crap all over
the page knowing
that nothing
has been said.
But I did see
that spider's web
and at least it
wasn't one that
I walked through.

You
have to hold tight
to that hundred dollar hat.

You
have to watch
the puddles
in those two hundred dollar shoes.

You
have to stop muttering '****'
under your breath.

You
have to 'wait now'
this isn't my life.

You
can keep muttering
'****' under your breath.

Driving on this electric highway,
it shoots to be the
monkey on the back.
White, green, in a bottle or a machine.
Foul breath screams out
words that I hold dear.

Holding up a candle
by its burning wick,
while a sea breeze
slaps me with a salty sting.

Fumbling through an atmosphere
joined tongue and groove,
from the first breath to the last
the artichoke heart pumps out the beat.

One foot in front of the other,
another swing and the pinata breaks,
raining down lies to be gathered up
and taken home
to be stretched out and hung
alongside the truths.

To hold the Universe
I leave my mind
The switched on Darkness
Shuts out the Light
And the edge of Spirit
Becomes the boundary line

If you
Want to shoot
From the hip
Make sure
You're not firing blanks.

Anyone worth their salt
Will tell you to be yourself
Then step aside to let you find that self.

Run from those
Who claim to see  
The truth too clearly
And with those that want to
Meet me I say...

"Meet me half way,
Then there is no extra mile".

Leaders
Have in mind,
To lead.
Preachers..
They want to preach.

Story Tellers tell stories,
Some, fact filled,
Others are sprinkled
With truths, still others
Are boldface fabricated fiction.

Looking within to find
The answers I've come to know
To be genuine..
And with Wisdom comes
The pain of responsibility.

A responsibility
That resides in the acts one does
Or the lack of action
One chooses not to do.

Others don't hear you
From where you're at,
They hear from where
They are at.
  
Either it's
'Pearls before swine'
or a gentle reminder
to heed or discard.

Knowing a whole lot of
Not much at all
I remain eager to learn
More of The Mystery.

My aim is to walk
Shoulder to shoulder,
Not ahead of nor behind
For in the moment I can see
where once I was blind.

"Don't Worry, Be happy"
So easy to say, at times
So hard to do,
"The Proof is in the Pudding
and the Puddings in the fridge".

And with that,
The last quote
Will have to do.

Fantasy of a family,
not seeing that
we already were
and always would be.

Spontaneous,
starry eyed,
you drew and drew
bring your hold
to bar none.

Baby's blush brings
energy to communicate
symbol in mind, in ears,
eyes and fingertips.
Nothing doing
holding anything back.

Wound around with cable
I put my boxes
into the hole that I have dug.
Each box wrapped
with aluminum foil.
How long do you
protect a time capsule.

Spitting out time,
a twisted trunk
sequestering
a child's bear and rabbit.
Why would it hold
when not of flesh and blood.

Foot
        long
                 toenails
one hundred year old whales


Can't
    find the vein
       a junkies old refrain

Lost
in the music
   of the street

The hiss
    of rubber on the road
       a sustained
           lullaby

The reeds the reeds
  blow those reeds

Plant seeds plant seeds
   plant those seeds

   Water them well
           from

An ancient well
  with spiked punch

And German sausages
         so big that to get them up
                 you need a forklift

You heard by now
        there's  no depending on me
           when it comes down to the crunch

but.... ****... end of the joke so

Keep on keeping on
   stretching out those legs

If not to
    just walk
      around the block

See that hill
Across the way
In the winter
You would slide
And you would play
Letting the snow
Get in your face
You would be
Moving to the groove
Setting the pace
I did have fun watching
On the gleaming banks
From the snowy sidelines
My bones being old
Yes, I'll watch you
And yes, we will know
Just what coasting is

The walls
plastered with
photos of 'our time'.

No sudden moves
and a need to sleep,

all *******
in twisted sheets.

There is
some kind of
Voodoo in the air,

yes there is,
and it's got me good.

I smile and say
"I love you"
but you don't care,
no, not like I think you should.

You came to me
without a label,

I pried you open
expecting something sweet,
only to behold a can of worms.

Addicts
swimming
around in the sea,
whispering
                "Hook me, hook me".

Good-bye,
so long,
solo I fly and
when I'm gone,
no need to look back
or ask myself why.

I have more power
than that crazy old Boogie-Man,
you see, I made him up,
he's in my mind.

A figment of my imagination.

As useless
as **** on a bull,
looking
none the worse
for wear and tear.

In the end
it is what you are
that determines
what you will heal,

You have to locate
yourself before
it's really real.

A fire in the
back yard

cloudy skies
threaten snow

the deer
huddle under trees

for the weather will do
just what it please

I climb the back stairs
smelling of fire

my woman pulls the strings
giving me what I desire

November coals
so sweet and hot

feeling it in my soul
now that says a lot

are you going
to regret your
passivity when
your mother dies

(and will) while
you feel guilt
because of the way
you looked at her

as you treated her
as someone that
you thought couldn't
command respect

you may not
be able to
remedy that..

although you
could to chance
a learning

oh how to
forgive yourself
for living with
such a

simply simple
mind within  
a completely
complex soul

when you were chased by the violence against her
and ran to the neighbour's pleading
to the deaf ear of a silence afraid to whisper
then a loud " we don't want to get involved"

then to return home
to receive your 'licks'

and to see her
piece together
a meal out of
a fried potato

as he sat down
to steak and beer
with mushrooms no less

you never considered
how very brave she was
why, why would you favour him
looking now as she stands five foot small

how can you retract
a childhood attitude
that you have carried
with you all the way until now

what a weak, weak boy
in a not so grown up man

is even her death about you

© 2014

The first thing
that I noticed
was the child's beauty.

Then again
I realized how
I can judge a book
by its binding.

My fingers
laced behind my head
while the back of my mind
rest in the palm of my hands.

The linking of
those bony fingers
a sign
of my threadbare body,
barely old, barely able.

There she was,
waving her habitual bliss
like a carrot
on the end of a stick.

While a silent psalm
surrounds a starry angel's glow.

Under nourished being
       of a human being,

Gobbling up
     the cobble stones,

I'm on a stroll through town.

Miss-pronounce the words
      on the page of a book that
          you miss-took for the gospel.

If it's any help,
    maybe you should
        shoot me some bones...

and then, all alone,
     I'll draw my comfort up
           from a spoon.

Upon a hill
stood a kaleidoscope
with a sign saying free.

You put your eye to the lens
and she began to crank around.

Inside was neon brightness
     and pastel hues,
as the crank turned the townsfolk in the scope began to tear apart
               torsos began to twist  free,     pull    apart...  Then boom!
Flailing  arms and legs and hands and feet.

Everything reminding me of a snow globe
I observed once for hours while taking acid.

So sharp some colours can be... sharp enough to shred a town

These neon and pastel body parts
keep bouncing  off the glass sides, all around.

Smearing them with hues of red and orange ,
Scraping them with electric purples and fireworks greens and yellow.

Be careful when you put your eye to a free kaleidoscope filled with black magic. You might not walk away the same.

Canada and America have their differences from Eh to Zee

Angel drives so well
She'll drive you against the flow
Driving with one hand on the wheel
She has nerves of steel
A labor of love is her job
It can move you heart and soul
When a labor of love is all you got
It can put you in the hole
Angel does my dishes
She does my laundry too
At the drop of the hat
She'll cover  your back
She wraps her wings around me
And sometimes I miss my clue
Then it comes at the speed of sound
She was only passing through

plumes of mist
kissed with

an electric
charge

grateful son
of grateful souls

who lived and died
a human span

no torch to pass
no punches to pull

when I hide
they come to me

they smile at
my unwillingness

love is no joke
not just another spoke

with no string to pull
fumbling habitually

in tongue and groove
endlessly laid out

to crawl until I walk
until I fly

Any other day
Would have
Been fine.

I would have
Pulled out
The coffee ***
And greeted you
With open arms.

I would have
Served up
The sweets
And dusted off
The wing back chair.

I would have
Pulled out the whiskey
Poured a couple
And told tales tall.

Any other day
I would have
Put the world
On hold.

Turned off
The ringer
And given you
My undying
attention.

Any other day
But not today.

You were there
when life was good

You were there
when live was a struggle

You were there
when I lived in the hood

You were there
when you wanted to snuggle

You were there
in pain and pleasure

You were there
during work and leisure

You were there
when the court fined me

You were there
when they took our son from thee

I used to love you
and now I don't (know)

Sometimes
I like my whiskey warm

That seems to be
When I'm in good form

To step outside the circus
That seems to be my norm

Sing a song of six pence
A pocket full of worms

Warm whiskin-e
On a balmy winter's eve

It's my only holding back
Before a kiss it to me

Late February winter's breeze.

We walk this long highway together
Nothing can pull us apart, no never
The sun so low in the sky headed for the horizon
In the garden, things look so inviting
The flowers they just do as they please.

The trees shake their leaves as we walk by
Hidden secrets they whisper in the breeze.
A long time ago when we first started
I knew you were the one, you were so kindhearted.
Beneath a be-bop moon I want to croon to you
Nothing short of our giving it our best will ever do.

canada and america are different all the way from eh to zee

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.

not entitled
broadly speaking
not speaking of broads
of course not
you silly goose
flying south
out of or in order
i will take greasy fries
on the side

c look at me

I crossed eyes
with a money hungry,
power hungry pig today.


Just to say,
sometimes you have to show him who's boss

I took a ***** a rake and a *** into Rogers Canada because they over charged me 100 clams... The first time I said **** he said that I can't use that kinda language. I said that he had been saying it  since he was four. I told him he  had better call security and make sure it is more than One.


To that power hungry *******, I'll bet his two young female staff got a snicker out of that.

Why don't we have a change in pace
Stop what you're doing and follow me around

I'm tired of being a little puppy
Chasing you all over town

One thing is for certain
One thing is painfully clear

I'll let go of the wheel
You can go ahead and steer

I won't be busting a nut any time soon
We both want to be dancing in the light of the moon

Hold up a little I don't see a crown
Let's get back home to the east side of town

Yesterday is gone don't keep harping
Don't wait until tomorrow open your heart and sing

I brought my bottom dollar what did you bring
Put it up here on the table well what do you think


We can walk away but that's no good
I know well you enough to know you wouldn't

Let's pick it up where the angels put it down
Take it back home to the east side of town

build my house
water my trees

I am in awe on this sunny day,
no one will speak their turn.
And I won't accept your calls.

I flash thinking about it,
just like an old poleroid.

The glossy finish
shows your blemishes..

Square corners
show your slough.

I look at the ground,
seeing pictures that could be taken.
.

I see that all is beautiful.
I am in awe on this sunny day.


© 2011

Fill the basin
To half full
Cram the dishes
Into the white soapy
Bubbles and very hot water

Too hot for hands
And dish clothes
Wait, write a poem

Have a cup of coffee
And pat myself on the back
For doing three things
All in the same bunch of moments

What can be said
You dig in
Oh, water's still too hot

Pour myself
Another coffee
Contemplate the state
Of the unkempt Kitchen floor

Have

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

Try it, you'll like it

Said the man in front
of the liquor store

Chain-smoking
filter-less camel cigarettes

Grinning through
nicotine stained teeth

She came to call
And stays most of the fall
She takes the ground floor
You the  one above

The  floorboards creaked under your weight
Driving her wild she'd yell at the ceiling
You thought maybe it was from a hospital she escaped
Any scenario was none to appealing

You hoped for more than this
Trying so **** hard to appease
When you met in the kitchen
You'd ask who this strange person is

Something about her had you sweating bullets
You reached for a tea towel while the kettle boiled
She whimpered and you didn't know what to do
She shrieked and you poured the tea

Around the first snow you saw a way out
Above her you'd shuffle sounding  soft shoe on the wooden floor
Using the wash room you'd pull the seat up and snicker inside
Leaving hair in the sink water everywhere and a mirror that's streaked

Before too long our cards were played
The rooster greeted the morning and her bags were packed
You waited at the station to make sure she got on the train
You waved a gloved hand the sound of the whistle made you free