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6.0k · Feb 2015
Lone Wolf
Travels the tree line
eats what it finds
Cousin the Dog
chows down Kibbles n Bits
or some other such ****.

The lone wolf howls
not before mealtime
This beast roams,
has numerous homes.

Howling Wolf
A lucky day, a pack
A fight, a ****
The spoils of crafty laid plans.

The moon glow catches
his front row,
At peace with his place
But not the human race.
Our cat howls when my lady goes to work the evening shifts. I think she has some wolf spirit in her.
5.1k · Jul 2018
Licking my Wounds
A buzz saw a buzzing
Looking back through time
It's no longer the problem
That I thought it was

The tap-tap-tap of hammer on nails
Sitting here smoking a cigarillo
Drinking iced coffee
And thinking of my prime

I make few friends
Sometimes I can't even trust those
Often they drive up
And want to stay which way and when

I'm having oral *** with my trumpet
While holding hands with the dark
I shout out to the heavens
My eyes so full of stars

I dropped a letter to my Doctor
Giving him my order
Soon I will be flush
Not bothered by anything

I always go through them
Way too fast
Then I sit there in the corner
Licking my wounds
4.3k · Feb 2014
Superman
I don't
claim
to be
a superman
but I can
tell you
this,
my
kryptonite
is alcohol.

Just pour
me one
straight up
and watch my fall.

When
I die
I want
my spirit
to fly,
lock in on
my prey
from far,
far away.

Only rattling
bones
I can assume,

will be rattling
around
in my tomb.

Perhaps
it is better
to scatter my
ashes to the wind.

Because
really all
I will do
is just carry
my light in
to another room.

That's it,
I'll just
carry my light
in to another room.

© 2014
3.5k · Jan 2014
A Knight Out
Sounding like some wild soundtrack
to a Spaghetti Western starring
none other than The Clintster,
it were rolling in good vibes
with the peeps taking selfies
with the band for a backdrop.

Two horns poundin' out
a happening grove,
with a bass player all of
four foot nothin'.
with a cool round sound.

It was cookin' alright,
hours after midnight,
a Halifax sextet hinting
of Tom Waits and the The Bob man.

I yawned, I looked around,
all those sweet tarts in their skin tights.
I yawned again, shook my head
as the band was covering Ray Charles...
I yawned again and again
and realized I am too old to party hardy.

But still... 'I can hack it'.. the last thing I said
as I headed out the door, homeward bound
In a January breeze that had a hint of Spring.

end © 2014
The band was too good. I just got home and it's 3:00 am
3.0k · Jun 2012
Live Dog
Better to be a live dog
than a dead lion.

Better to be a rollin' log
than a lumberjack cryin'.

Better to be a drunkin' fool
than a ******'s spoon.

Better to be a happy camper
than a hurtin' unit.

Better to be a fresh pamper
than full of ****.
2.9k · Jun 2012
Run Away Train (rumination)
what shade has come over me
to leave such a trail of steel,
the thing i live is a run-away train.

i feel so obliged to follow it,
dragging me, kicking and screaming,
didn't i once engineer this life gone insane.

pulled along behind, face hid in forearms,
ka-knock-knock-knocking my head on every railway tie.
what shade is this life that has split bean's brain?

by the wrist i am chained to this run-away train,
with traits of a hell-hound out of control,
nothing to push to stop from being pulled.

bound to lose faith at the very least,
though risk of life and limb be the final price.
what shade is this film that i have cast myself in,
what shade is this play that won't go away.

© 2005
All Rights Reserved
2.8k · Jul 2013
Mental Masterbation
I listen
and I hear
the sound
of a radio
that is off
the station
and I don't
make a move
to fix it while
I sit here involved
neck deep in
mental *******.
a ditty
2.6k · Jan 2014
Pissed
I read
a digital sign today,
it went something like this..
            "Some mistakes are too ****** cool to make only once"

To which my head replied... 'or twice for that matter'.

I don't understand myself when everything goes my way
but I carry a big ten inch snit...

This morning I found
a silver ring and an empty bottle of
                               FIREBALL Cinnamon Whisky.

    I have never drank the stuff but it sounds as bad as White Shark,
a hanged over in a glass vessel.

What a way to start the day, day two on the way to breaking the cigarette habit..
                                 I have to on the count of they're killing me.. But I love my smoke.
    Thank you God for the e-cigarette.. I love love, love you, oh thank you Lord!

         And the puff-puff-pass doesn't help,
I have to buy stock in Halls Cough Drops,
  I use them so much I've had to take a second mortgage out on the house that I will never own.

Anyway, the lady's gone to bed and I have music floatin' in my head.. was ****** most of the day
              but you can't keep a good man down.


end © 2014
2.6k · Jun 2012
Mentor Mixing Metaphor
I live in a room where time stands still
I have been sick of late
I have need to take yet another pill
They don't really do any thing to help
But I keep hoping that they will.

Sometimes I think that I am as dead as
I am ever going to be
That is if I still wake up tomorrow
I am bright enough to see
To whom it is I bless
And just where it is I bring sorrow
I keep wishing for good health
For that I would beg steal or borrow.

I dream the craziest of dreams
Last night I caught my mentor mixing metaphor
Watch me go 'round in circles
I've got one foot nailed to the floor
I stand in a room made of mirror
I see myself clearly
Yet I start out looking for the door.

I woke up and started drinking today
That is the only relief I get
When I go around town smelling like alcohol
I'm not exactly teacher's pet
But I will live to uncork another bottle
Oh on that one you can bet.

I'll always give you the truth you see
On that you can depend
Even if I tell you a lie over coffee
While sipping my special blend
Later I will type 'what is what' you see
But I won't proofread before I send.
2.5k · Jun 2012
Hot Air
The air is
thick with water beads.
***** little water beads
that fill my lungs
making it hard to breathe.

The yeast
in my belly
is causing me sickness
that nothing can remedy

My head is full
of deadends and barricades.
The yellow and black
bumblebee signs
warning me
to keep my feet on the ground.

Just then as
a hot air balloon
spills its peoples
onto jagged rocks.
Breaking their bones
and giving them ****** noses.

© 2011

All Rights Reserved
this one's new i think it's finished not sure enjoy
2.5k · Jun 2012
Talented Tailor
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 Sushie,
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,
everything 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
he'll be back for more.
2.4k · Aug 2013
Mentor Mixing Metaphor
I live in a room
Where time stands still,
I've been a little sickly of late
Needing to take a handful of pills
Sometimes I think that I am
As dead as I'm ever going to be
That's if I wake up tomorrow
Sometimes I know just where
I've gone wrong and caused a lot of sorrow
I dream the strangest dreams
Last night I caught my
Mentor mixing metaphor
Then I watched me go 'round in circles
One foot nailed to the floor
While I was stood in a room full of mirrors
Frantically looking for the door.
2.4k · Nov 2013
Live Dog
Better to be a live dog
than a dead lion.

Better to be a rollin' log
than a lumberjack cryin'.

Better to be a drunken fool
than a ******'s spoon.

Better to be a happy camper
than a hurtin' unit.

Better to be a fresh pamper
than full of ****.

©2000
2.3k · Apr 2015
Dish Jockey
Dishes dishes dishes
stopping me from getting
too big for my britches

Morning noon or night
piles of dishes
in plain sight

I needed a dishwasher
to help me be free
Turns out the dishwasher
has to be me

Pots pans measuring cups
pizza plates  into the suds
Extra moisturizer rubber gloves
dishes are not one of my favorite loves
I called a friend of mine,
you see I've always scratched her back
you know and she's scratched mine.

What makes me crazy is that
she's always one to take,
she's always on the make.

You gimmie and grab
and turn around and gouge
out my eyes,
you talk real ****,
you don't answer any of my whys.
My thousands of whys.

Well so long now,
sorry but I got to go...

Yes so long, it's been a slice,
shaking loose of you is like
putting down a vice.

Golden earrings and pretty bobbles
couldn't clean up your act.
You've walked barefoot across the floor, broken fragments of glass,
everywhere, and you were there,
but, oh so was I.
I was there too

I've given you my very best,
yes I've given you my very best,
and what do I get?
I get treated worse than all of them,
worse than all the rest.

I wish I could remember
if it was a movie or if
I  heard it in a dream.
It doesn't matter much now,
Because when
I see you coming
I just want to leave.

Just like Dylan said, "A whole lot of people dying tonight
from the disease of conceit."

I've tried taking you aside
and softly admonishing  you,
that ended in a stalemate,
what good did it  do..

You wore my Austrailian hat and battered it black and blue.
You took my painting and  threw away the frame,
I lend you money
and you drink it away.

I don't talk about drawing a line,
I just do it and
if you're in you're right mind
you won't cross it
unless you really want
the **** to hit the fan.

This conflict, I must confess,
well it can make me cry.
every time you
turn around
you're telling me another lie.

I feel a lot of ambivalence .
I don't want to hear you any more.
Some times I think I want silence,
some times I think I want to even the score.

Man, I am on
cloud nine,
look what anger does,
as if I'm in a fight.
I just get to average,
but by no means normal,
the only normal I have found
is the cycle on a  washing machine.

I'm not sinkin' in a hole
that was dug real deep by you,
thinking
this old world is all ****** up
and
you don't want to play the game,


You'd just end up leaving me,
so sad and feeling so full of shame.

Do you love me, let me count the ways,
it's not that I don't care,
it's not that I don't want to be there.

I just don't know any more...
what's that sound
telling me I have fix it,
that I have to
put it right.
Now you're looking
to put me down,
always wanting
to start a fight.

You're acting so abstract,
while with me it's so 'as a matter of fact'.
Knowing no one has even half the answers.
1.9k · Aug 2012
The Smart-ass Bricklayer
"Don't be
disgruntled."

He said to the foreman.

"So what if the building
is going to be late."

"Often buildings
are late and they
don't have any offspring."
1.7k · Jan 2016
Dollars to Donuts
If I ever get my feet back on the ground,
I'm going to buy me a bottle and head on in to town.
I'm going to find me a girl that treats me kind,
one that pays some attention to what's on my mind.

Dollars to donuts, we'll feel real good,
anything and everything will go down just as it should.
No more thistles and thorns, no more raging thunderstorms.
No more boot heels on the ground, no more horrendous hissing sound.

We'll bring to the table just what we've got,
we'll spend when we are able and stay home when we're not.
We'll kick up our heels to those Celtic reels,
forgetting how it feels to be scrounging our meals.

Those will be the days that we'll choose to recall,
I know this is a phase and better times will put an end to it all.
Dollars to donuts, these hard times will pass,
dollars to donuts, these hard times won't last.
1.6k · Jan 2013
#31b Hear and Now
Hi, my name is Gene and I'm an alcoholic... Hygiene... clapclapclap.

© 2013
All rights reserved.
1.6k · Mar 2013
Navel Gaze
I saw joy today,
she was peeking out
from behind yonder's wall.

A passing fancy,
a snowball's chance in hell.

Give me
what you got
then move along.

Hush now,
don't say a word,
quit ***** footin' around,

get to the heart
of the matter,
lay it on me,
don't hold
nothing back.

Unfolding
as it should,
a divine plan
run amock...

God soldiers on
casting shame
on this ball-and-chain.

So pass the peas
and pop the corn,

kick your shoes off
and rest your mind
in the palms
of your hands.

Lean back
and gobble
the grapes
Spill the wine
along the way,
it's only
a bridge
heading
nowhere fast.

A slippery *****
sliding into
a fresh new suit,
no shackles
for bangles.

Take the free ride
with the price
of admission,
pay attention now,
that's the ticket.

Easy boy whoa,
whoa boy
easy now,
whoa boy whoa.

© 2013
1.6k · Jun 2016
Death Of The Sun
I'm going to go through with it
This just has to be done
It's all going to stop
Chasing our tail around
For The ****** Dollar
It's all the same in the end

Passionate and proud
At the burst of a cloud
Rain falls in whispers
All today and into the night

When the wild are on the verge
Of some kind of taming
Who cares who you are blaming
How much does it matter that some are unaccountable

Not that you can get away with ****** and wars

When it's time to take your artwork
And put it in a frame
The picture is yours
It's the painter who takes the claim

When it's time to die
What's in it for the stars
Maybe a big wake and
Miles of lined up long electric cars

The mountain's shadow
Keeps the place cool in the summer
Not 'till the volcano spews it's guts
Will you lay down and burn
Or vaporize just in time

It's over with the death of the Star
'What is and was will be  bleaker and bleaker
A place you'd turn your head away from

When we have this chance to change into living without borders
What does that mean a shot of the The New World Order
An evocation of imaginations of and for the somewhat rich and the richer  
A full and complete Police State, militia walk the street, Their bidding done

No way to travel but by foot
And the odd old bicycle  
Horse and mules being bred
To save the soles on your leather boots

All the waters contaminated all the crops hollow not fit for an animal

We go this way or we go that
Who will drag us down or
Who will bring us up
Vibrational  influences could save us all

We can't keep trying to tell ourselves that the Government
Has our best interests at heart because they don't
If there is war among the classes it's a way to distract us
But it needs to be done and I'm bringing my 'A' game
1.5k · Jun 2012
Muddy Sky
lonesome for the country
i need to get out of town,
with this city
in for a penny
in for a pound.
i need to get back to my roots
i want to fill my boots
with some hallowed country sound.

a skateboard flies by
clack-clack on every sidewalk crack,
same rhythm same rhyme
as that lonesome long snake
rolling down the line,
moving up the steel to a muddy sky.

a pedal steel wails as a cop goes by,
72 chev malibou sails through a red light.
on every corner you have to look left
you have to look right,
you can't go ;looking up the steel to a muddy sky.

this city she has her shades of blue,
a man on the corner with a national,
two hands pounding out a delta groove,
head tilts back sings
you got to move, you got to move.
moving up the steel to a muddy sky.

© 2005   All Rights Reserved
from my book "Notorious".
1.4k · Dec 2013
Ace Of Spades
Looks like
I took a turn for the worse,
I hit a fork in the road
and caught some kinda Voodoo curse.

If you box the ace of spades
you know your luck is going to change,
it's going to change for the worse.

I got the Devil in my doorway
just a leanin' on the bell.
I know he's not going away
'till he's sure imma going to hell.

These February blues
I do detest, they've taken away
my 'happy-go-lucky' and put me under House Arrest.

So you know, if you box the *****
you're liable to play until you empty your purse.

My Muse she flew
out the back door and she's on the run,
screaming over her shoulder
'It ain't a crime to be unhappy but it isn't any fun.

What's it called,
when you know your place?
Keep calm behind those dark glasses
that hide your oh so easy to read.. poker face.


© 2014
1.4k · Dec 2012
QuestionmarK
I hold my cards
close to my chest
on this night that is
oh so close.

No fan
to blow
air into my face,
not that it would
matter anyway.

The air
would just
remind me
that it is hot
this summer night.

I am drinking beers
while the fruit flies
are sharing with me.
No sense
in picking them
out of the cup..
more will arrive.

The woman
who lives upstairs,
how can she ride her bike,
on such a summer night.

I hear her,
it's the sound
of rowing,
a creak-creak-creak.

88 Willow,
the building with eight dwellings.

Through the open window
I hear a dog barking,
maybe two, three blocks away.

This building that I live in,
where the walls
are so thin
you know that
they have ears.
Have ears to hear.

Creak-creak-creak..
the woman is rowing,
her rowing machine rows
out into a great big sea
of imagination,
where there
is every kind
of sea creature
that you can conjure  
up in your mind.

And her
boyfriend, a fine
painter and sculpture.
He wants to do the
cover of my next book..

And I think, like that's ever going to happen.

My good friend
was over tonight,
he told me a story about
how he proposed
to his 'maritime' woman.

She cried and she cried
after she saw the ring,
not because it was so small,
but because she was
beside herself
in joyful delight.

I envy what it is they have,
but what they have
requires work, hard work.
They have one tried and true
partnership.

We talked about
reaching out to extended family,
as well as brothers and sisters in blood.

Me, of my own,
my father is turning eighty.
Eight decades and I know him not.
He fought
in the Korean War
and I've yet to ask him
about it.
Not once in my life time
has he even smelled
the wartime memories
that I am sure waft up
on occasion.

Now back to 88 Willow.

There is a drunkard
living in a basement apartment.
His legs are going
from wet brain.

He only calls me when
he is drunk.

He has two drinks and
he starts fumbling worse
than a line backer
intercepting
a foreword lateral pass.

I don't want to move,
though I know I have to,
to keep on keeping on,
I've got to move,
I have to move.


© 2013
Tidied it up a bit  
All Rights Reserved.
1.4k · Jan 2013
Stab Backer
When they say 'I got your back',
make sure they don't have
a knife in their hand.

It feels like I'm
just a dog and
I've only dug up
one more
bone of contention.

When I say
I'd like to
give you
a knuckle
sandwich,
I know it's
not for the best
even though
it's true,
in the end,
I'm like the robot
flying the drone
unmaned,
I've got ******
behind
these sunglasses,
so I  end up
throwing up
my arms
and settle with
pounding sand.

You ask; "What's your problem?"
While I stand among
the stars,
And I shout out,
"too many to mention."
I have bought
and sold
the Farm.


When I grew ill
and had to
leave my job,
you treated it like,
I was a lazy *******.

You had me
by the  *****,
yea,
that *** got stirred.

I was so
'on fire'
with anger.

You stood there
with a bellows
fanning
the flames.

I got your number,
I know your game.

After knowing you
more than a decade,
being there
to look after your kids
while you
went out and drank away
the money
I loaned you,
all the while trying
to get yourself laid.
Man I played the fool.

I miss the kids,
and the 'should of dids',
as for you, you can go to hell.

Like the carcus
of a rotting animal
you give off
such a strong sickening smell.

**** the "Glade",
**** the
keeping all the
doors and windows open.

I'm going out
to have a drink,
What a weight
off of my shoulders.

Get lost
because
just got paid,
I'll be dammed
if once again
I'll let myself
get made.

© 2013
All Rights Reserved
1.4k · Jul 2012
Hangover Blues
I drank way too much last night
now I feel like I'm paying my dues,
I woke up real early this morning,
all dry in the mouth and my head was pounding,
I've have me a case of those hangover blues.
All I ate last night
was what I think was horsemeat.
With a sickly sweet sauce
in greasy, greasy flat bread.
The man said it was a Donair
but whatever it was
I really don't care,
because my wallet is empty
and my life doesn't seem fair.
I feel I have nothing left to lose
I have a real bad case of those hangover blues.
My wife tells me that I wasn't any fun,
I had me a case of whiskey ****,
I just wouldn't get it up,
and after my epic fail
i moaned...òh ****,
I just rolled over on my side
and then got sick.
Well, life is about winning
just as much as you lose
and I woke up this morning
with a mean old case
of those hangover blues.
Thank god I didn't have to work today
because I would have giving my boss the bad news,
I would have been staying at home today
with one of those 40 ounce flues.
Oh, the things that I just know that I said,
and the people that I *******.
The peoples faces that stick in my mind
haunting me hard,
while I sit with my head in my hands,
my money all spent
and my bloodshot eyes
that I can't conceal,
Total disgust for myself
is the way that I feel.
Oh the self pity that I ooze
with this mean old case of those hangover blues.

© 2012
I woke up this morning and I just had to write this down.  I spent a boring night at home and was on facebook all night readind other peoples postings. One guy was begging people to bring him over some beer as everything was closed for the night. he finally said "**** this noise, I'm going to go to the bootleggers and pay 50 bones for a case". This is just a rough draft but I can see that I may very well be something that I wanna keep.
1.4k · Dec 2012
Skin Deep
Skin deep in her cold green sea,
a dark and gnarled sky above.
On the horizon a sign reads:
She believes in angels, but she can't believe in love.

Insane in her reverie, wings sewn cross stitch
all down the spine of her back,
rattling panes that the winds blow
are just a reminder of all that she lack.

Saw teeth across metal, this is music to her ear,
the shriek of a tea kettle brings insolent childhood fear.
Rude eyes shout; forget the devil, he has no bite.
She knows better though, she won't go down without a fight.

Her attempts to to speak of the things she has heard
are the sounds of the cat who has sprung on the bird.
To spread her wings is to spread her legs
and embrace to power the darkness has made.

Oh, the suffering of heart ache after heart's ache,
while pulling the wings off of flies.
She can make you laugh, she's pretty smart hey,
but it isn't the same as being wise.

Every bit of her life, it occurs to her.
Yes it does, it just occurs.
Now is that being selfish or just being blind,
if fooling people well is her way to unwind.


end


© copyright 2005
this was written about and for a very dear friend
All Rights Reserved
1.4k · Feb 2013
February Blues
Looks like
I took a turn
for the worse.

I hit a fork
in the road
and caught
some kind of
Voodoo curse.

I had
the devil
in my doorway,

he was just leaning
on the bell..
I knew he
wasn't going away

until he was sure
I was going to Hell.

These February blues
I do detest,
they've taken

my happy-go-lucky
and put me
under house arrest.

My muse she flew
out the back door
and is on the run,

Screaming
over her shoulder...

it ain't a crime
to be unhappy
but it sure
isn't any fun.


© 2013
1.4k · Jan 2013
Wash (The Dishes)
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
1.3k · May 2016
Gord Downie
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.
1.3k · Sep 2013
Serenity
I live with this Cat,
her name is Serenity.
She's very neurotic.
It's "meow, meow, meow"
to get out..
and "meow,meow, meow"
to get in..

It's not like she doesn't
have any problems,
I hear her meow "What
if I get mange" and
"What if I am chasing Birds
and a Crow comes along
and pecks out my innards".

She meows, "You know, it's
no thanks to you I have no front claws,
what happens if I should run into a ***** Rat".
"You just make sure my Food Dish is full
and we'll get along okay".

I live with this Cat named Serenity,
She "meows" to get out,
she "meows" to get in.
Serenity, she's very neurotic.
She stays out all day
and comes in to ****.
Serenity is far from serene,
but I guess she likes to have
something over on the Dog.
1.3k · Mar 2015
The Lighthouse Keeper
It was ten years ago today
That his wife died. He was going to retire
But the Lighthouse needed his care.

There was a ghost in the basement
Or was it just a trick of the light.
If it was, it  just wasn't fair.

The deepness of the foghorn's call
Kept him from missing one single soul.
When someone stopped to visit he'd just sit and stare.

Many people came to ask him to leave
But he just held tight.
To leave would be more than he could bear.

It was ten years ago today
That his wife died. He was going to retire
But the Lighthouse needed his care.

One thing that he never knew
Was that he was the ghost in the basement.
He was the ghost that was sitting in the chair.
1.3k · Jun 2012
Celtic Dream
looking
across the waters
as you stood
upon the shore,

a warm feeling
your only comfort.

shadows of
a distant past
so long before.

memories
now fresh
of love undone,
the mingling
of two hearts
that beat as one.

sights
and sounds
and vague imaginings
that passed so long ago,

a time of love
so seldom had
that few have come to know.

me,
i was fine
up to the time
that you gathered me aside,
speaking of matters
so far from thought,

of how
your mind
and spirit fought,

and how you cannot
accept the time
although your heart
has recieved a sign.

why
do you
unplug my ears
and open my eyes

if not
selfishly
to console your fears
and subdue your sighs.

were
you tired
of being lonly
standing in spirit
by the sea,

are you
crying out
for you only
or are you
calling out for me.

what purpose served
in judging so quickly,
so swiftly,
so much.

why
make us
within arms reach
when you remain
so out of touch.

you run
at the sound
of love's
unfinished call,

then turn
on your heel
and unsure
of your direction,
you stall.

hiding
in your craft
to appease your muse,

the oils
they dry so slow.

creating visions
of what you choose,
still,
not always
of what you know.

ships and bluffs
and the face of love,
the canvas
again and again will change.

images of
a sea so rough
and a love
determined to remain.

paint me
out of the picture,
paint another man over me,

it will not change
that it was me
that stood aboard
that ship
below the cliff
that you stood upon.

behind you
the rolling highlands
of our beloved scotland,

while below you
the thickness of mist
hides that we list
and are going down.

then waves crashing
and men thrashing,
don't you know
that i have drowned.

your
tears add
to the
vastness
of the sea,

i know
that although
you cry for you
you also cry for me.

paint dries faster
than the tears
you have shed,

for a heart
cannot master
a love
that is not dead.

i wish
that you had
been spared
the wait,

knowing what
it is to grieve.

you felt you only
standing at the gate
though hand in hand with me.

if
i could have
kissed your cheek
to take away your pain.

for i
would do
anything for you,
even die again...

© 2000
© 2000
1.3k · Dec 2012
The lighthouse Keeper
It was ten years ago to the day
that his wife died. He was going to retire
but the lighthouse needed his care.

There was a ghost in his basement
or was that just a trick of the light.
If it was it just wasn't fair.

The deepness of the foghorns call
kept him from missing a single soul.
When someone stopped in to visit, he'd only sit and stare.

Many people came and asked  him to leave
but he stood his ground, he just held tight,
you see, to leave would be more than he could bear.

It was ten years ago to the day
that his wife died. he was going to retire
but the lighthouse need his care.

One thing that he never knew
was that he was that ghost in the basement.
He was the ghost down there sitting in that chair.



AllRights [email protected]
This was written for a friend of mine who loves lighthouses.  She asked me to write one and this was the result.
1.3k · Aug 2013
Mortar Forker
I used to be a
mortar forker
when I was a kid
working construction,
packing tongs of brick
and slinging cinder blocks
up three levels of scaffold
only to have the block layers
complain about how the mud
was as dry as a camels ****...
but the pay was good
and it was drank up every weekend
while the chicks admired my
tanned and buff skinny frame
but shunned my drunken advances.


© 2013
1.3k · Nov 2013
Garbage Day
It's not windy,
it is late.

All good people
put their trash
to the curb.

In the morning
the wind picks up.

Suddenly there are
bags of garbage
everywhere.

Shreds of plastic and
the like is all over
the neighbourhood.

Some stray cats and
a few raccoons
are breathing easy
and feeling full..

You wake and
the garbageman
has come and gone.

© 2014
1.2k · Dec 2012
Jealous Sea
rolling and holding
onto a used to be,
always unfolding
across a jealous sea.

your Father's scolding is
whipped waves roaring,
a howling wind that tore
the sound from
Hell's aching bell.

your Father's smile, bliss,
graceful, gentle, wide.
when it falls down
you can't hide.

rolling and holding
onto a used to be,
always unfolding
across a jealous sea.

© 1998

All Rights Reserved
1.2k · Jul 2012
Blue Sky
Way up
in these clouds
just as my expectations
did fall ******* my head
full of those childlike dreams.

Remembering a future
and ignoring a past
that could break
any fragile strong-man
on any bright new day.

Why can't I
make you leave me alone.
Even here,
up in the blue sky,
above the white clouds
so far away from home.
I see the
way
your eyes sparkle
when you talk
to him,
how he tries
to impress you
and how
you lap it up.
I never knew
until now
how my feelings
for you
could hurt me,
how I could
be jealous
of other guys.
But when
the two of you
shared
a smoke
under his umbrella
in the rain
my blood boiled.
I never knew
my feelings
for you
could cause
me pain.
I told you
about it
with anger
in my voice
and you said
you were sorry,
that you
didn't mean
to hurt me,
that you
would talk to him
and tell him that
we were a couple.
And now when
I bring it up,
I make light
of it.
I address it
with humor,
I tell you
it wouldn't
have bothered me
but I was tired
that day,
I wasn't feeling
on top
of my game.
Did I apologize
for being angry. No!
I am afraid
when I feel
so insecure.
You say,
"don't you
trust me."
and I say yes
but I have trust issues,
didn't you notice
that I always lock
my bicycle.
I used to
  Drink my face off
     'get lost' to this world

I'd stare at my insides,
   My red raw meat

Up to full speed
    I  wiped more off my chin
       Than most others drink

    Life was going down the tube
And I wasn't helping the situation none

Everywhere I went I wore out any welcome
  My rude, angry self, had no restraint at all

The face left me
   Was nothing I could live with
     I  had to clean my act up,
       Make me a more presentable me
           Blend in with those  I chose as my peers

Imagine that,
No more 'Bums Rush'
No more bloodied noses
No more " Here's your Hat, what's your hurry"
1.2k · Jan 2014
Reached the Shore
Sometimes I can feel it,
yes I can..
I'm wrapped around you completely,
yes I am...

When you rode the rails to Toronto,
you'd left me to explore the open road,
mysteriously ill... feeling daily that
my back was against the wall.

You were to stay four weeks,
and we were only just begun, with that
cloud of uncertainty  following close
on our heels. Snapping pictures
of a  hurried future, blotting out our
only chance at being in the present.

On your return,
I wondered how it would work,
how it would look.. for you,
I had questions, questions, and more questions...  
yet it seemed I had remained an open book.

My heart was a ***** in heat
and I was throwing myself
in to a kennel full of howling,
growling dogs, baring their teeth,
their *****'s becoming unsheathed..
and standing back to watch the fun, my ego
peering motionless as it met its defeat.

Was I aiming for another feather for my cap,
or was this something real.. to be cultivated,
to prize. To hold on to at all costs.

I looked in the mirror, the years staring back at me.
What to do with your youth, a quarter of a century younger.
Not knowing if I could keep up or even be enough for you.

Talk about not seeing the forest for the trees,
you up and landed in my lap, craving my attention,
looking for a body to keep your sheets warm,
someone beside you to ride out the frigid winter.

I had been content with the state of my being,
not Looking, as they say.. not in the market, a free agent so to speak.
To me you were just another somebody
that took up space, entitled though you were,
and I paid you no mind, except
to engage in small talk, about the weather,
or of how smart looking your skirt was
or how you liked my shirt.. and that you thought
it brought out the blue in my eyes.

You would hardly call it flirting,
though I  found you yearning
for something you were beginning to believe
was a love only abiding in Fairy Tales, and not
in the style of the Brothers Grimm, mind you...
You were seemingly in need of a Prince,
not even seeing a Frog to be found.

This coast becomes so gloomy
when the fog sets in,
the clanging of the markers
in the open bay, attesting to the dangers
should your craft steer near.
Their ringing reminding you
of the Churches steeple bell
come every Sunday. Clang, clang, clang.
I imagine those people in their suits and dresses
filing up, their all pressed Sunday best hoping for a front pew,
while checking out their look in hand-held mirrors.

Not a hint of the ******..
no... nothing of the sort.
Not drawing back the arrow,
and letting loose just for sport.

A decade or more had passed
since I had been one in a couple,
I wasn't going in blind, nor
with a one eye open,
but oh, your skin,
it was so subtle and your eyes,
clear and refreshing, hiding no guile.

I threw up my arms and waved my hands about..
You smiled shyly, slyly.. you had come 'round even
though you lived  way out on the other side of town.
My hands still up high I placed their palms
on each side of your face and kissing your forehead
I said.. "I have reached the shore."
1.2k · Jul 2012
Cape
Riding wheels
of thought while
with fresh stream
and campfire.

Scot Bay's crust
below a split's stair,
milk woven mist
under hand to sea,
sowing Morphina's silvery sleep.

I begged to fly the flag
as you started the mornings fire,
a bottle of gin to halt chattering teeth.

Two full days of bliss.
1.2k · Feb 2014
God's Tweet
I say to you,
I grow in your garden 
as you grow in mine.

I grant order and chaos,
no move is yet to play out.

I am All,
all in All....
beginning ending,
beginnings endings.  

Co-creating
in this non-creation,
between blurred lines.
It is there as Humankind you stand..
    
Male and  Female,    
galaxy amid galaxy.

I give you azure for pleasure,  
darkness abides in good measure
beyond this world waits great treasure.

The service I ask of you is short lived and simple..
Love,  love yourself, love one another,  .. just love.
        
I am not away on business
as some would suggest,
I have not forsaken
any of my Creation.

I am always moving in,
always moving out..
forever turning on,
forever turning off.
                
It starts and it ends and it starts again to end again,
Impotence amid Omnipotence, a Mystery never to be solved,
always to live and to die moment by moment.
                
I am beyond your Imagination,
you dwell in my imagination..        
in my image you have your Being.

You will never stand alone,
you are always a part of this dance
in the endless stream of much more.

I carry you
gentley through
soft currents
as well as rocky rapids.

My words to you
do not dwell in a book,
They are alive and bring life.


You were born to create this day,
this Day, the only thing new
under the sun..
Your freedom of will leaves you
to create evil as well as good,
your choice yet not your choice
being forged out of my choice.

There is no light at the end of the tunnel,
you are the Light passing through the tunnel.

You have forgotten who you are,
who you were, who you will be.
Fret not... I come to remind you of the abundance
that is at your fingertips. To help you to turn away
from the notion of scarcity. All you need, you have..

All you will ever need you already have.. you will it to be
At times not knowingly. I am here to move you towards clarity.
You can end the fight bleeding and on the ground
or just not get in the ring... your choice yet again.

Free will is just that..
it is not without consequence.
Ignorance of Universal law is no excuse,
the domino being pushed they tumble  into a future which is here
along side the past, only the moment... infinite.
1.2k · Jul 2015
The Dollar Store
The crowds, slithering down the aisles
           aimless yet ordered,  manoeuvering
                     shopping carts and metal baskets

Welcome to the lower class, the minion slave tied to the renting a house instead of a home. The climate is too harsh not to have shelter. They shop at thrift stores and outfit themselves for twenty bucks, hell they can find a living room for under a hundred dollars or bones or what ever you want to call them, that magic thing called Ca$h.

All those people spending that cash, in most cases, hard earned.

How did this ever happen * The Consumer they call us
                                                      We save a lot of money
                                                           ­  Spending money we don't got.

Ownership is the problem.. How does someone have the right to stake a claim to a chunk of land, then parcel  it off and make money selling it.
The Earth belongs to all of us.

The rich will go forward and lay claim to any planet they can reach for its natural resources.. How the hell can we let that happen. The Universe is ours, it belongs to everybody. We will leave this dirt and venture back when it has healed.

I can see them harvesting asteroids and riding  comets, waving there Stetsons
And hootin' yee haw as they speed through the galaxy, trying to hold onto their imagined power. The making up the rules as they go along.

Sometimes I just have to ignore everything and create my own little world.
A world where I trust my dead friends for sure. I don't know about everyone else.

Leave everything all behind  finding some real peace. Not this chanting about it, but shaping it and moving it like the malleable construct that it is....
               if you can call it a construct... and if you can't then 'what the hell'.

We are more than we know, more than we claim.. the People can be the power

We can start again, start all over before we swallow ourselves whole... and in part. Dismembered for certain. Dismembered and sent to the other side of the country, or half way around the world.
I haven't edited it as of yet. I'll look at it tomorrow.

*the consumer they call us -Stompin' Tom Connors
1.2k · Jan 2014
Once Upon A Time
Once upon a time...
there was a shift in the way Humankind
felt and thought and created
that was in the best interests of all
of the known Universe.

Manhood and Womanhood
stood shoulder to shoulder,
eye to eye, throwing their blessing
outward to the Sun and the Moon and the Stars.

Every beast was befriended
and not hunted for sport,
nor force fed for consumption.

The very trees and the grass
bowed their branches and
along with the Dandelions
they paid homage to the Alien
who originated far, far away.

Humankind began to rewrite
their own history which included
All of the gods, Male and Female.

Now isn't that a doable Fairy Tale.
1.2k · Jun 2012
Knit A Face
It would be so sweet if it wasn't so bitter,
it would really move if it didn't stand so still.
It's going to take a lot of water, maybe a river,
it'll take a lot of love until I've had my fill.

Sometimes love's fire lifts us up,
it burns so bright as we fill our cup.
We touch so soft and slow beside the ancient well,
it feels so good to be under love's spell.
So we try to hold tight but love takes wings,
sometimes in our pain we do hurtful things.

Love's strong suit held close to our chest,
says you got it made, your hand is the best.
So you can go big or you can stay home,
you can hold your horses, you can hold the phone.
In the end you know it's true,
you're going to slide on in, there is nothing you can do.

When you can't find love,
it's hidden hard in heart-red shades of blue-grey shadow,
it feels like you don't remember how to live.
You stumble around and forget your place,
you wring your hands and you knit a face.
You pretend it doesn't matter, that's what you'll do,
who you trying to kid, who's fooling who...
1.2k · Jun 2012
Skin Deep
Skin deep in her cold green sea,
a dark and gnarled sky above.
On the curved horizon a sign reads:
She believes in angels but she can't believe in love.

Insane in her reverie, wings sewn cross-stitch
down the spine of her back,
rattling panes that the wind blows
are just a reminder of all that she lack.

Saw teeth across metal is music to her ear,
the shriek of the tea kettle full of insolent childhood fear.
Rude eyes shout: forget the devil, he has no bite.
She knows better though, she's not going down with out a fight.

Her attempts to speak of things she has heard
are the sound of the cat who has sprung on the bird.
To spread her wings is to spread her legs
and embrace the power that darkness has made.

Oh, the suffering of heartache after heart's ache
while pulling the wings off of flies.
She can make you laugh, she's pretty smart eh,
but it isn't the same as being wise.

Every bit of her life, it occurs to her,
yes it does, it just occurs.
Now is that being selfish or just being blind,
if fooling people well is just her way to unwind.


© copyright 2005

All Rights Reserved
1.2k · Jun 2012
Aiming At The Blues
I can be so 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 hat and spats
and strike out on a crawl.

Now I know what it is to be drunk
and I know what it is 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
dealt a straight in spades
you'll know just how it's going to go
we could do it up just like a drug
except we're all out of any float
it's back to throwing out a life line
to draw some heat out of this late winter's cold.

Heads I win tails you lose
you can flip a coin
a thousand and one times
before you just get tired and stop
knowing full well
that it isn't always the cream that rises to the top
no some times it's the slop
that makes the piggies come.

Dive in off the high board
zooming toward a teardrop,
waiting for the belly-flop
aiming at the blues
what side of the line are you on
when you disobey the rules.
A fist full of dollars
and a bucket full of small talk
about something, somewhere
being a once in a long time long shot.
I've got nothing left to lose,
I'm just aiming at the blues.


© 2012  All Rights Reserved
much enjoyed writing this one.. many verses didn't make the cut
1.2k · Jun 2012
Jealous Sea
rolling and holding
onto a used to be,
always unfolding
across a jealous sea.

your father's scolding is
whipped waves roaring,
a howling wind that tore
the sound from
hell's aching bell.

your father's smile, bliss,
graceful, gentle, wide.
when it falls down
you can't hide,
you can't hide.

rolling and holding
onto a use to be,
always unfolding
across a jealous sea.
'used to be' or 'use to be'... that is the question
1.2k · Aug 2015
On the Beach
Waves hiss
lapping the shoreline,

******* clad
beings
soaking up the sun.

A slight breeze
pushing clouds,

they dance
for our
entertainment.

The vastness
of the ocean

reminding me
of the bigger
picture.

The grains
of sand

whisper
their allegiance
to the stars.
1.2k · Jul 2013
July 17th
Today's my birthday
and it's I, me, mine.
My ego's not in check
and this is a sign.
I'm liking fine whiskey
in my ice tea,
it gives me a jolt.
Makes this yesterday's
stallion feel like a colt.
I'm giving some thought
to what my Mother
went through,
I wish I could say
I was a good son
but it wasn't always true.
Just like the death of infatuation
kills the manners,
I want hats and *******
and mile long banners.
Today is my birthday,
it's not like it's my first.
Give me more whiskey
to quench my thirst.
I'm partial to all that
makes my skin crawl,
I'm not talking about morphine,
no not at all.
I'm alluding to a blank canvas
that I can't quite right,
no paint to splatter,
I'm feeling uptight...
Please bake me a cake
and sing me the tune,
another one will be here all too soon.
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