This doesn't work too well,
no it's not very nice.
I should have stayed away,
taken my own advice.
Things could be better
if you'd move a little closer,
move a little closer
and warm things up.

Well now, I like my life,
it seems to serve me well.
if you're going to be my lover,
well you've got to be my pal.
just forget the shouldn'ts
and forget about the shoulds.
It's just a crime
when things don't work out
the way they could.

Rolling, rolling, rolling.
A little something
is better than nothing at all.
the only positive thing
is that all is said and done now,
yea it's all been said and done.

Things could be a little better though,
if you'd move a little closer now,
come on a little closer
and warm things up.

It feels like my life ...it has served me well,
I'd say I'm pretty happy,
though some times it's hard to sell.

Don't you come down on me,
'cause I didn't fly,
it's not a crime if you don't fly too high.

I'm going to move on back
to my single bed.
It's better to rule a lot of a little
than to fight with a king-size contention,
but it could be better, yes it could.. you betcha.

Come on and warm up this old heart of mine,
maybe move a little closer and everything will be fine.
come on little darlin',
move a little closer and warm things up,
come on a little closer and warm things up.


© 2000

All Right Reserved

This don't work too well
no it's not very nice,
I should have stayed away
taken my own advice.

Things could be a little better
if you'd move a little closer,
move a little closer
and warm things up.

Now I like my life
it seems to serve me well,
if you're going to be my lover
well you got to be my pal.

Forget the shouldn'ts
and forget the shoulds,
it's just a crime when things don't
work out the way they could.

Yes, it feels like my life
has served me well,
I'd say I'm happy
but sometimes it's hard to sell.

Don't you come down
on me 'cause it didn't fly,
it's not a crime if
you don't fly so high.

I'm going to move
on back to my single bed,
it's better to rule a lot of little
than to have a King Size contention

I've got my problems,
too many to mention,
but it could be better you bet ya'
if you come and warm this old heart of mine.

Maybe move a little closer
and warm things up
move a little  closer and say you're mine,
come on move a little closer and warm things up.

  © 2013

Fill the basin
to half full,
cram them in to
white bubbly soapy
HOT water.

Too hot for hands
and a dish cloth...
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...
****, water's still to hot.

Pour myself another coffee
and daydream about
a new Dish Washer,
one where I can hide them suckers
and have a clean counter.


© 2013

Green and gold,
and a splash of red..

Took me hours to complete
and I can't take it with me
when I leave.


Two women,
I am close to
and I find myself
all alone.

They both
have a bone
to pick

and I'm bad at
saying I'm sorry.

'Today' is a new day,
and 'today' is the only response
to 'what's up', or 'what's new.'

Today is all that is new,
remember 'nothing new
under the sun'.

You can wait for miles
for that call
you're never going to get,
I changed my bank account
but it doesn't mean I've changed.

My car payment's
not due because I have
two feet and a heart beat,
let alone my bike.

Let's see,
maybe a spot of tea
and some breakie.

I know, a shrimp concoction!

There isn't any 'flying high'
with out some kind of 'crash'
back down to earth.

Time doesn't wait,
you wait while you
watch the paint dry.


© 2013

Cobra's breath
through yard iron teeth,
sullen swank and sway.

Shan't no man stand
Where WILL be loosed,
'til gait and gravity
sound pounding shoe.

When in no glass wall
to splinter and fly
still distant point
seen with thine eye

Pass behind to settle and cell
being  recalled of fear of
a rainy day.

Casting visions
of a cruellest hell
of infinite symbol
Sound and smell.

Cobra's breath
through yard iron teeth,
sullen swank and sway.

Shan't no man stand
where WILL be loosed,
'till gait and gravity
sound pounding shoe.

With in no glass wall
to splinter and fly
'till distant point
not seen with thine eye,

pass behind
to settle in cell,
being recalled of fear
or a rainy day,
casting visions
of a cruelest Hell
of infinite symbol,
sound and smell..

© 2005

Cobra's breath
through yard iron teeth,
sullen swank and sway.

Shant no man stand
where WILL be loosed
till gait and gravity
sound pounding shoe.

Within no glass wall
to splinter and fly,
till distant point
seen with thine eye,

Pass behind
to settle in cell,
being recalled of fear
or a rainy day,

Casting visions
of a cruelest hell
of infinite symbol,
sound and smell.

morning's first coffee,
always the best
unless you buy cheap.

you find the level
that water rises to
and then you do your dealings.

drink, a symptom
of the cool
that eases into soul.

your landlady
knows your dealings
better than yourself,

she'll jump out
onto a limb
that has already blown away.

she'll kiss your tracks
like her lips are her brains.


© copyright 2005
All Rights Reserved

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.

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.

When my baby's web of whispers
              screams I love you in my ear
  it echoes through my cranium
                       sending messages ear to ear.

My synapse snapping
       and gravity collapsing,
    a host to the sensual,
         multi-dimensional...
                 no such word as fear.

                    It really slays me
                       when I see it disappear.

When we make love my ego burns in effigy
     sending naked stars to fall, it's a natural born lovers ball.


Candles kissing the air, flickering flames of release, total ecstasy,
    it's not just *** to me,                    a forgiving rush of peace.
                                                I stand in wait, waiting for your call,
                                                   oh will this feeling never cease....

                        No four-way flashing, not only fore-play happening  
                                              no yield sign to stop me now.
                                     Like a gold mine, she'll be tappin' me.
                    Yes,     right in the kisser,     POW!

My baby is drama free... if anyone creates confusion,
               well that would be me.

Everything is oh so fine,
         yes, I'm hers and she's mine.
                          It is one slippery shift
                                  on into the sublime.

That is the way I want it,
     not exactly everyone's cup of tea,
                          still, she brings it on just for me.

Take a Carney ride
At high noon,
Or at midnight sky
Under the moon.
The moonlight says,
The night is a good deal
And the Night says,
The Moon knows
That we are here
To pack a wallop.
But the Stars ignore
The Moon's stolen light,
Knowing that they
Will soon be dust.
While they spend
Wistfully useless hours
Wandering if
The only reason Time exists is
So that everything
Doesn't happen at once.
Then, all at once,
They are able
To leave well enough alone.

Take a carny ride
at high noon,
or in a midnight sky
under a crescent moon.
You can hear
the moonlight say
that the night is a good deal,
while the night says,
the moon knows that we are here
to pack a wallop.
But the Stars ignore
the Moon's stolen light,
knowing that they
will soon be dust..
while they spend
wistfully useless hours.
wondering if
the only reason
Time exists
is so that
everything
doesn't happen at once.
Then, all at once,
they were able
to leave
well enough alone.



end © 2013

Take a carney ride
at high noon,
or at midnight sky
under the moon.
The moonlight says,
the night is a good deal,
and the night says,
the moon knows
that we are here
to pack a wallop.
But the stars ignore
the moon's stolen light
knowing that they
will soon be dust,
while they spend
wistfully useless hours
wondering if
the only reason time exists is
so everything
doesn't happen at once,
then, all at once,
they are able
to leave well enough alone.

© copyright 2012

Take a Carney ride
at high noon,
or at midnight sky
under the moon.

The moonlight says
that night is a good deal
And the night said: the moon knows
that we are here to pack a wallop.

But the stars ignore the moon's stolen light,
knowing that they will all turn too soon turn to dust.

The stars spend
wonderfully wistful hours
wondering if the only reason that time exists
is so everything doesn't happen at once.

Then, all at once, they are able to leave well enough alone.

Take a Carney ride
at high noon,
or at midnight sky
under the Moon.

The Moonlight says,
the Night is a good deal..
and the Night  says..
the Moon knows
that we are here
to pack a wallop.

But the Stars ignore
the Moon's stolen light,
knowing that they
will soon be dust,

While they spend
wistfully useless hours
wondering if
the only reason time exists is

So everything
doesn't happen at once..
then, all at once,
They were able
to leave 'well enough alone'.

She lives dangerously
close to the edge.

A tight-wire stretches
across the abyss.

A bird is beaking
"step on out".

What will she do?
there is no safty net.

© 2012

We set our sights
To the stars and beyond
Somewhere out there
There is somebody somewhere
We are not alone
All that space all over the place
I understand why no one would
Want to befriend us
We are greedy murderers
Bent on power over the weaker
We peer past the sun and the moon and the stars
An ear open to the radio
We attract attention and it may be our bane
History shows us what the ignoble conquerors
Have done to the indigenous
We don't seem to be able to get over our differences
We are unable to see the peoples as one
I am sorry for us and I don't know what to do
We may as well be a fireball hurling through space
Burning and out of control.

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.

Sundown in the Paris of the prairies
Wheat kings have all treasures buried
And all you hear are rusty breezes
Pushing the weathervane Jesus

In his Zippo lighter he sees the killer's face
Maybe it's someone in the killers' place
Twenty years for nothing, well, that's nothing new
Besides, no one's interested in something you didn't do

Wheat kings and pretty things
Let's just see what the morning brings

There's a dream he dreams where his high school's dead and stark
It's a museum where we are locked in it after dark
Where the the halls are all lined all yellow, grey and sinister
Hung with pictures of our parent's Prime Ministers

Wheat kings and pretty things
Let's just see what the morning brings

Late breaking story on the CBC
A nation whispers, "We always knew he'd go free"
They add "You can't be fond of living in the past"
'Cause if you are then no way you're going to last"

Wheat kings and pretty things
Let's just see what the morning brings
Wheat kings and pretty things
Let's just see what the morning brings



Gord Downie

I'm the kind of guy
Who never sits on an ugly truth
When the hard winds blow
And the fishing boats are moored
There's few gulls to be found

As breezes go this is a beauty
The combinations of grey's in the sky
The tumbling of trash cans is music to my ears
The slippery streets, a hazard to the unskilled
The lights in the windows become beacons

Lost are the die-hard umbrellas
Seeking shelter under the overpass
They always end up there through no fault of their own
To be in the company of a vagrant wishing for a drug or drink
Something to numb the sounds of the world's howls of transition

Curses to those who judge
it's an experience you have to have
but need not endure

In this wordy worldly wordless whine
you'll find I'm not that kind
who flies by night
not looking for the sight or the foresight

Entangled in twine
not following
the road signs

Kissing your clothes behind
time to unwind
standing for
the  okay
from those so inclined

You can have a pistol in the small of your back
And still have your heart upon your sleeve
While mine slips into my palms before it jumps down my throat
My fingers draw across its strings now you know exactly where I stand
One plus one is two but did you ever feel one plus one equals one
You have to face it sometime and maybe now is right-and-ready
Full on there-you-go maybe tonight's not the night, let's not

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.

I drove to see you
but you were gone.

It's cold as ****
even with all those lights...

I wish I was at home where
the cat becomes 'that fuckn cat'.

And the tree
embraces  
the
Angel atop,
as the critter scurries up the limb.

Ornaments are broken and so are hearts.

It's whiskey and candy canes
and a long walk home.

it falls
on all
rich poor

needing to be
shoveled
away from
the door

looking so
beautiful
until

the traffic
makes it
not so

white rain
men
carrot noses

in need
of a tissue
until
he blows it

white rain
I cant complain

seasons change
that stays
the same

When you love
when you leave

When you laugh
when you cry

When you grieve
when you die

Feel like I'm on the mend.. somedays I feel like a broke down old VW bug and it bugs me.


© 2013

All Rights Reserved

you can't
change
your nature

like you can
your wardrobe

what you are
is what you are

poor or rich
we float along
on this globe

amongst the stars
amongst the stars

there is more
than one way
to be rich or poor

and right now
my sanity is
headed out the door

so blow
us a kiss
should

our spirit
be amiss

Put your
hands
in the air

and realise
we go
nowhere

without
a little help

from
who knows
where

just as long
as we can
feel it

just so we
know that
it's there

You tell me
one thing one day
and another the next

Then you turn around
and wonder why it is
that I'm perplexed

Well I can't catch a break
with this ringing in my ear
a scar that refuses to heal

Oh Beelzebub I beg to
make friends with you
so as not to fear you

Wait a minute no
you can't have my soul
I just want to be whole

I want to take down the veil and see what I am
No putting my whole up for sale
I just don't want to give a ****

Standing at my door
an old friend just met.
The veranda catches a shadow
still with a thick layer of dew.
Slow to talk about the real but not about
the pounding, look close, real close,
dare to see, offer the eyes, the eye
open always on the shining mind.
Breezily blowing into the kitchen
where everything revolves around a
couple of days, isn't it a gas, isn't
it a blast, or should language like that
be used?

Choose to ask the tongue once
when morning settles in to stay
brow beaten and lonely
asking her to play,
why does it turn out this way?
why does it turn out that way?

The choice brings no answers,
a frail silence, a brazen emptiness,
leading in the mystery meant to teach,
to scold, to fill,
to be bold,
to breach,
to breathe into that thing that carries  me,
one man up the endless hill, breath by breath,
no longer seeking, no longer tied to a home.

The starlings
Outside my
Window
Sing a song
Of no regret
There is snow
On the ground
And little food
To be found
But that's okay
Because today
The sun is out
The sky is clear
It's very warm
For this time
Of year
And if the
Philosophy
Doesn't blind me
I know I will find me
A weapon to use
To fight these blues

The Starlings
outside my window
sing a song
of no regret,
there is snow
on the ground
and little food
to be found,
but that's okay
because today
the sun is out
and the sky
is clear,
it is very warm
for this time of year,
and if the
theosophy
doesn't blind me.
I know I'll find me
a weapon to use
to fight these blues.

hundreds
of
crow
in
a
blizzard
sky

winds
whip
under
feathered
wings

tinker tape
snow flakes

passionate stars
mingle with
the human
vantage
point

Winter snow is so high,
to jump out into it
is to jump into the sky.
The woman downstairs
has no where to go
as of tomorrow.
What will the universe grant her,
does she need faith?
Spirit people floating
like snowflakes in space.
The woman downstairs
thinks worried thoughts,
contemplating the street
and its harshness.
Could I be witnessing
a fall from grace.

© 2011

Winter snow is so high.
to jump out into it
is to jump into the sky.

The woman downstairs
has nowhere to go
as of tomorrow.

What will the universe grant her,
what is it, does she need faith?

Spirit people floating
like snowflakes in the air.

The woman downstairs
thinks worried thoughts,
contemplating the street
and its harshness.

Could I be witnessing
a fall from Grace.

© 2011

Living is easy
In the times it's not hard

Once we've learned the rules
We have a fighting chance

No one knows for sure
Until they put the hammer to the anvil

Once I was blind
To the messes I made now I see

Same old story
Same long songs and dance

Reap sow sow reap
Wiser  than I said these things

Not saying who am I
To question I have that right

So much to learn
More than a lifetime to learn it

When I rest my bones
My head darts forward and my heart recalls

It isn't a matter
Of better than or worse

More like a balance
I need to strike

It's true what they say
about vibes...

My key is to keep those vibrations
In some kind of light

All those hurtful things
I lay claim to

They travel space and time
I never knew I was in control

Now I have a fighting chance
Knowing what I need to know

Once he
held it
he knew,
he just knew.

He was going
to the top
of that, there is no doubt.

From the time
he started
his mojo working.

He was walking, talking
all about...

that time
when he was
reading tea leaves.

He was voodooing,
just using
his imagination.

He travelled far,
that train whistle blowin'
sowing the seeds he was sowing,

then , while listening to bob dylan,
he had what they call an epiphany.

He started growing mushrooms
to see what he could see.

When the results came back,

he said his epitaph
just has to read.

"Down Through The Years
The Lord Has Been Good To Me"

Once he
      held it
         he knew,
            he just knew

he was going
   to the top,
      of that  there is no doubt

from the time
    he started
       his mojo working

he was walking, talking
      all about...

that time
   when he was
             reading tea leaves

he  
was  
     voodooing ,

          just  using
             his   imagination


he travelled far,
          that train whistle blowin'
              sowing the seeds he was sowing.

then, while listening to bob dylan
      he had what they call, an epiphany

he started growing mushrooms
                    to see what he could see

when the results came back
                  
       he said his epitaph
                 just has to read

   'Down Through The Years
The Lord Has Been Good To Me'

One time
I took a medication
that interfered
with my bladder function
I couldn't urinate
The very talk of a catheter   
scared the **** out of me

From the tips
   of her fingers
    
To the heel
        of her soul,

One greedy woman.

  She asks:
      
"Teach me how to
       dance on graves,

        Show me my insides out,
           Preach to me of the ungodly.."

" I will not"  I said.
      "Look to another, I am
           unavailable.
              
           You would have me
                 be Sisyphus while you
                    take the Queen's throne."

Inviting all to ponder
    as you wear only a thong,
         your ******* slightly hidden in the shadow....

Your hiss is threadbare,
      just audible to those
                 in spitting range.

All is not
    welcoming
      with me,
        I was once blind
           to  your  level  of   fuckery.

No more says the man
that guides the boy within.

I have grown
   on the shoulders
       of what I once was.

To me
   your voice
      is the sound
              of two cats fighting.

What right do I have
     to dance on the dead,
             let alone show you.

Out in space on the other side of the earth
Where the world of water  blocks out the sun
You look outward to see the stars burn bright
Without earth's atmosphere, they don't flicker
They shine bright and strong
And the total darkness calls, God calling to your heart
While the Milky Way is a band of white leading to where?
Perhaps back to the garden
Here on earth, between these ears, where the battle of the soul rages
And the *disease of conceit grips you
With two hands, by the shirt you will try to run
You run away in any which direction
Or maybe you just give in and sit in that ****
While a legion of devil brethren whispers in your ear
The Hounds of Hell, they're not satisfied with a biscuit shaped like a bone
They want to gnaw your bones to pulp
They lift their legs and **** on you and you stand there shaking
Shaking like the leaves on the trees
And you know that your only hope is to bow your head
And get down on bended knee
There where you are carried away to the Cross
And from the dirt, you look up to the figure crucified
That paid the price, the God-Man sent to fight the battle for you
All you had need to do was ask.
Go to your closet and in the darkness of that small room
With its four walls within arms reach
And with all its old ghosts still there, permeating your pores
Let your spirit pray, pray as your tears roll down to your breast
Pray, 'till your eyes puff red. Pray to be saved, rather than not
As you have been the Devil's play toy for so long
Choose the way of faith and instruction in the way
For it is that instruction which gives you freedom
God will not just move on being sure of another soul He knows wants saving
God has time for all'  He calls it grace, the innocent child we are inside
Knows this Grace Is stronger than that thoughtless sinner that we had become

I want to
go back to the days
when they let us sing
in the fields
while picking cotton
in the blazing hot sun.

Your grief
Is it for you
Or is it for another

Your laughter
Do you keep it to you
Or is it to share
With your brother

I'm not one
To rain on a parade
Don't look now
You just got made