I see their eyes
yeah, I see them
there they are
large, gray
a wide array of expression

I feel nothing in them
they see me
and I'm looking right at them
it wasn't meant to feel this way

I'm impressed by the feeling
chilled by the perception
a ghoulish laughter
my only confession

I see their eyes
a million daggers,
confused they throw them my way
I catch them, a cut up collection
it wasn't meant to feel this way

Wandering through the weeds
a landscape free from presence,
life choked with a sullen glaze,
are they still looking at me?
The sky of haze.

I'm slowing the spin
read slowly,
I'm slowing the spin
repeated slowly,
it wasn't meant to feel this way.

I walk away from the Supreme Beings,
in what direction?

they know something,

it wasn't meant to feel this way...


www.robross.ca

Entry to a blasted land
from whence it came
from whence it stands

The windows framed
a landscape bland
a landscape grand

Strewn are the artful plans
blackened blight
blackened light

The windows strange
panes in tact
pained with spite.

Shreds of civility
ghostly mastered
ghastly sight.

The windows
centered in disaster,
presented in gallery,
dusted in delight,
veiled in mystery.

www.robross.ca

Springing forth from slumbered quest
a smile adorned by vapid breath.

Elephants give rise to thunderous steps
a cry, some calamity, then more rest.

Bits have changed, good will blessed,
shards of self collected, an inspired mess.

Pieces went missing, when the hammer dropped
but there he is, standing ... looking back up.

His fashion changed, face perked up,
the meaning clarified, was this good luck?

Chipped and cracked, dazzling flare
light rebounded... as light as air.

The bits hit by roaming bands,
illuminating through time, permanence arcane.

Fruition came to pass,
a soldier, a real trooper, regained dignity.

As bit by bit, the pieces fit,
and were joined by shards of the land.

www.robross.ca

I imagine life with wings
flying through crisp currents
feathers pruned neatly
a world beneath my shadows.

I imagine life from the trees
swinging through depleted canopy
beating chest in frustration
a face of humanity turned wild and cold.

I imagine life in the oceans
extracting oxygen from the depths
blasting the surface with great bursts
my song traveling vast distances.

I imagine life snaking the deserts
burrowing for protection from predator and sun
searing pain from the vestige of limb
all part of the natural plan.

I imagine the Earth from beyond
a shining jewel, polished by debris
exporting our imprint by stamp
sealed with approval,
delivered by scope.

I imagine looking back at an affected world,
alien and foreign, hope for diplomatic relations
logic and reason, replaced by treason
as minds were affected
corroded to core,
a shining jewel no more,
the blast not heard,
another tree fell,
a capsule launched
with seed and tears...
caught by passage of time,
an evolution takes over,
who shall be the next to record?

http://www.robross.ca

Ears echoing droplets
amplified overhead,
seeking attachment to skin,
running down edges,
a soft hum of gadgetry
reminding the soul of how it's spun,
electrically...
as hours toll by tower,
and languished breath
seeps down circular steps;
concrete poured within,
anguish is met by horizon,
unsure whether
night or day,
the bells ...
the bells ...
the bells....
the bells....
the bells....


http://www.robross.ca

Pain retribution for agonized youth
somber, a parade with full spread photo shoot,
death narrowly averted, hard to digest...
reflux of memories
revisiting chest,
hardened by rope and rod,
how do I erase this place?
Anxiety still lurks about,
waiting to push up pain;
it is a deep well,
I drill holes in the bucket
every day,
and yet I still get a taste.


http://www.robross.ca

What I see is
nothing

What I want is
hiding

What I know,
I don't.

And nobody recalls
anything...

What I feel
is unfelt

What I want is
heart sent

What I hope is
bent.

How I care is
up for rent.
Cheap
*******
Get out!


http://www.robross.ca

Nothing
nothing at all
yet by writing this
I contradict that
and what have I
gained by this
description of
being found?

Nothing
nothing at all
yet because of
perpetual variance
my contradiction
remains the same
I am left with one thought:
"What keeps me here?"
Something in which
I'm truly
Lost and Found.


http://www.robross.ca

The delightful sting
of your words hit
my infected scars
with such force
and pain,you feel it too
but could care less,
for you like to think it only goes on
french fries
not me,
am I as good as they
or do I lie?
about me, you,
and then I again?

I may be bitter
as that which
you pour,
but I don't eat away like
your fluid,as I'm content to keep it
bottled
collecting,
forever or until
my walls are gone.

You love vinegar
on everything you eat eh?
so do I really,
but I don't taste very good with it,
Vinegar is what makes me and
yet it is working
to destroy
what was
what is
and what
might have been
a very good french fry.


http://www.robross.ca

Serenity...
in what was
never "normal"
as normal is a perverse word in "society"
serene perversity is the status quo,
just a serene way of looking at
things with a ****** up face.
It's reality,
not normality.


http://www.robross.ca

To depart on a voyage
to take the wheel
to know how you were crafted
to accept such craftsmanship
to perform your task
to act as you really are
to be able to look at yourself from afar
to be so ******* depressed
so bored out of your ******* aching
body of mind
that you find yourself
screaming out
how can you all be so ******* blind!?
Dead in the water, poor riverboat boy
all this fancy *** equipment
and no one to paddle...
yes a paddle!


http://www.robross.ca

The ball goes down the lane
it clinks on pins
and down they go,
the shoes fit just right
and everyone you know is in sight,
being taught how to spell the letter R
of your name by your great aunt Vi,
seeing your funny aunt Marlene,
being with your grandma Ross,
and going to Sammy's Restaurant
for grilled cheese,
and the pharmacy for pink Trident gum,
all this under one roof.
I run to the lane
the ball goes down the lane
I run to the counter in time
shut off the lane
and CRASH!
no pins fall
the sound of the ball ricochets
from one end to the other;
my mischievous ways fulfilled,
and God I loved the Fanta pop
which my dad, the manager I was
proud of, readily supplied,
the place is now gone
but it's life still goes on
the pins crash even louder,
the disinfectant shoe spray still as smelly,
the oil of the lane still slippery,
and the grilled cheese still as good;
and carried on to the current day...
Georgina would have been proud!


http://www.robross.ca

I remove my glasses
and couldn't give a ****
if I ever saw
a thing again,
you ******* *****
ya nice word
civ, ****,
queer boy
Your love is your
insanity, go and go
and go and get away,
away go get away, away
go get away you're
gay, go get away
You don't know
whether to write, talk,
laugh, cry, bawl,
rust and I'm here in this
and I'll be gone on that
Found mad, and for
my madness I cannot
be because I know it's not me,
choke gasp
release and on and
on and on, again go
get away, away
just go away, away
you're gay,and invading the space I haven't even
found.


http://www.robross.ca

1 Out of the oven
2 Doubled Running
3 Walking Stupid
4 What's a world?
5 Why the difference?
6 Hey look at me!  I'm kinda different.
7 I almost died, not again!
8 Death of a grandmother
9 Girls?  What the hell.
10 He's a nice boyfriend.
11 It's awful lonely.
12 Keep Quiet!
13 Secret having trouble.
14 What to do?
15 Drugs?  Nope.
16  Suicide?  Maybe.
17 **** this ****, and **** all of you.
18 Storm passed.
19 Adult?  Perhaps.
20 Money?  It's a change.
21 A big change.
22 A Storm started
23 Body Mass index probably too high.
24 What could go wrong?
25 Floating on cloud 9
26 So much traveling
27 Body Mass index collapse, Sick
28 Personal life ****** over, a large forgiveness comes out, a Storm ends.
29 Changes all over again.
30 aged in story, eyes on key, alcohol free, who's counting?
31 a return from prison, the UK, an island
32 dropped medication, in favour of honey
33 acted, reacted, back on the meds


http://www.robross.ca

Bitter.

Tangy.

Chest poking,
distress...
anxiety.

An orange peeled.

A tomato congealed.

Acid rising,
distress...
anxiety.

laughter.

disaster.

911 on the line,
distress...
anxiety.

Please stay on
until we arrive.

strobing lights.

harrowing ride.

11 hours of machines
distress...
anxiety.

1 year to a MRI.

1 year to live or die?

A Canadian health care story
distress...
anxiety.

Take some of these pills,
and call us in 5 years,
distress...
anxiety.

Quacks.
Waddles.
Going south.


http://www.robross.ca

I scurry to my hunting grounds
I eat anything, I eat it down
Gorging, hording, enjoyment from toiling,
what is gross is Sustenance from my playground,

I'll piggyback off of you
Here Piggy Piggy
let me have a chew...
I'm charged with saving a life?
it's going to cost you...
I'm no ****,
just a rat for hire...
if you live on scraps
of the vile,
would you be gallant?
Not even for a while.

My dump is a sanctuary,
it will save your life Wilbur...
oink oink oink,
I'm Templeton the rat
the dump is my hero.

(I played the role of Templeton the Rat in a Theatre production of Charlotte's Web in December 2009).
http://www.elgintheatreguild.ca


http://www.robross.ca

Listening to fragments of a union
bittersweet turns to mold
a rotting corpse of a love so bold
listing, about to go under
a child's cry a gut-wrenching anguish
drowned out,
the cycle now the norm.

A marriage license, up for grabs as a prize,
it's the new reality craze...
but it's the gays,
yes the gays who are to blame,
for a straight divorce rate of more than half!

Stop getting married,
and save us the laugh,
spare the future for children;
for your lack of common sense.

Let's ban divorce,
and send the actors to boot camp...
it should be tough on them, they
make a mockery of commitment
working together
and peace and harmony,
they should repent.

If it's a passion for the Divorce they want,
it's a passion they shall get.


http://www.robross.ca

The lost are many
on missions guided
They have seen the hate
of political and religious man
so many lost
so many voices unsung,
unborn,
it continues today
not a cross of burden
but a fight for what is right
they are champions.
Honour them.

War... what is is it good for?  Absolutely nothing say it again.
When will they ever learn?


http://www.robross.ca

A manager
A team
A City
A fan
A dream

A league of old men
A collective of the duly elected
A media fixated on the win

A lot of money

Cold, a night in which there is nary a soul
The wood cracks and shatters
on any hit ball...
the visitors come dressed as wolves
cameras film, those there shiver
some nights the ***** would swim in the river
The score 23-2 at that point, why bother?

I'm talking of a body
expensive, unpleasant, obsessed with dreams of grandeur
talking heads with nothing in them
children in uniform, adult bodies
"I deserve money." - the players
"Stats mean nothing, it's all about heart." - a manager
"Come on coach, give him the start." - a father mouths vicariously

I'm talking of the part nobody sees...
"What if you make money?"
expensive, unpleasant, obsessed with policy
certainly not the reception you were expecting
it's just the City.

"Show me the return,
I expect to see,
before I give you anything." - some in the business community.


So many quotes, too many for me, people well meaning
but distant, don't get too comfy, the team had to move
and begin all over, ended with a whimper, a seizure, a flop,
no majesty.

I look over my shoulder at an old man
It was me at age 23
it nearly brought about my end.
I'm just so glad.
This was my dream,
and a great way to spend time with my Dad.
It was 6 years of history, it wasn't all bad.


http://www.robross.ca

I'm losing my thoughts at the sight of you
if I smile and stare,
these are the things I say to you

Confused and losing track
fantasies find my mind
I'm turning red with embarrassment
these are the things I say to you

feeling close and falling far
thinking about who we are
and as I dream
these are things I say to you

And what I said
for I do dread
my own blood red,
what you know
can be told
but is not what
I truly behold,
these are the things
I say to you
hear me in my different ways
in the things that make you show
and sway
what we both Know isn't the direction that we go
and as we turn our backs to each other
these are the things we say to you.


http://www.robross.ca