My phone was down
To one percent tonight
And I’m not going to lie

I was scared.

I thought it was a sign

A sign that I might be
Running thin…..
Overexerting…..

Over indulging.

Work and liquor have been walking hand in hand down the street
Likes its 1950.


And I don’t like a lot of
People these days
Whether or not that’s because
I am reading lots of Bukowski ,
Is yet to be determined.

I think I can blame Bukowski
On the work/ liquor combo.
Maybe it’s time for a new job.

The day I quit working in an insulation factory
Was the day I finished reading “Post Office”
On my lunch break.
It was poetic.

Yet this Art Gallery
gig could be a good
Summertime tool
I am reading “Women” afterall.
And I do get to work easier hungover
Then when sober, and sleeping in.

I took a deep hard look at myself
The characters that surround
Me the places that I
Live and love and the things I like and love to do

It’s the honest truth
That I am confused

And young
And yet to evolve
And full of love

I ride in the back of trucks, on
hockey stick spoilers and broken bumpers

With long hair you can say the words like
“******”

without being ridiculed.
Kids don’t go back to school
because if I became a teacher
the world would have a few more
smarter fools and a whole
lot more kids.

Maybe as a teacher,
I could inspire, and make one percent of a difference
Or even more.

A child teaching children,
What a concept!

“Never grow up 101” and  “Introduction to smiling”
If I could fufill learning to this stage,
It would be the world striking
And not the teachers.

Maybe its time for the youth of the planet
To strike back.

As an ode to the dead phone I once
Needed to recharge,
With a full battery of energy
I vow to live up to my full capacity as a tool of change
If my cell phone does to.

“Time to watch a little less Netflix and family guy kids,
lets turn on a Ted Talk, if you like them and want to be able
to outsmart those pesky grown ups, you should watch
them at home too!”

Ted Talks today’s lesson,
The peoples uprising in Egypt tomorrow.

There is a one percent chance of this happening.

February 13th 2014*
I had a full moon in my sign,
So I read it as a sign,
That my entire body spirit and soul,
Was vibrating for a **** *reason, and
God - no matter how many times
He has ****** me - he has his
******* Reasons. He isn’t even
Selfish enough to call them his
Own. That’s my god, that my mind

That my big gig my spirit in the sky.

It’s not nothing that is happening.
If I am regretting, opening
My chakras, and consciousness
That’s too bad because, there is no going
Back, nor forward, nor present
Because I presently believe.
And let me make it clear I no longer believe
in regret.

Miles away from here,
I will never question where I have to go.
A body disconnected from a mind disconnected
From a soul, teeters in the balance of regret
Because trying to get fit is not fitting in
Fit has been inhibition
Latent, and lamented
With sin.

Simply put, make healthy decisions.

Speak freely, and confessions
Are easy to make.
My entire life I have felt like a loser
A Bukowski like ****** -with no 'hoosier'
Like talents. So if tales are not spoken
About you when you die
remember
Like Bukowski’s one of us down here
He wouldn’t be sober either;
Am I  the tourist/hitchhiker
That turns Hunter S. Thompson
Down on a hit of ether?

I am wise not with wisdom but wise with beer.

Health is about balance, and that balance
Is my edge.

Either which way, I admire my brain.
I didn’t sit down planning to write
this and if I could explain I would
put it in a book.
Look,

If I publish anything soon I would be
Just as worried
As you are?

Would I pigeon hole and sewer
My lifelong friends or would I
Expose deep dark secrets
That could de-rail my “Hoosier” inspired
Career?
I fear yes.
But I also fear no-
Body would read them.

My trash masterpiece
Will be self published
And hidden in discount book bins
Across North America
With a sticker on it reading
“This is free for a reason”
And its not because I don’t need
money to survive,
but because I do need love
to do so.

Where oh where is my worldy wisdom
That can set this place straight
Why oh why should we wait to change
When the ball is in motion – technically circulation
What man will decide to be god and
Direct all these direction less folk
Back to their hometowns
New roads or
Uncharted sees

I don’t think I have lived the happiest days of my life yet
I guess I am waiting for her to say

“Travel with me”

Because,
I’m afraid
If I ask her and she said “no”
For whatever reason
I accept and understand
I’d still have to go
No matter the season


And if and when, that time comes and it happens
And I fall madly in love deep into my voyage
This is the day,
I will take my god a little more seriously
Seriously.

Don’t say I’m too sweet baby
I’m only being kind
Don’t wear headphones baby
I’m standing right behind
You at the bus stop
Don’t catch me staring baby
at your
Behind

Behind you
At the bus stop
Sweet baby.

What a beautiful place to
Meet the love of my life
I really can’t believe it
Never-ever been this surprised
But with gentle little eyes
You might
Just see
Lies.

And I never want to be the one that lies to you.

Who is the military?
What is government?
Who bought what country?
Who are his other clients?
North America in chains
Slaves being silent


I hope I don’t worry I hope I don’t stir
I hope these things for you all
In this giant blur
Spreading my message, sure
Never really has been clear
I don’t drink Budweiser
And have friends that are queer

For who can I stand for and believe in is not as human or alive as me?

Elect me for president and lets take a chance
When was your last destiny moonlit dance
I will remove all propaganda from being shoved down your throat
Solar paneled roads, a moneyless system, and an environment that gets to vote
I’ll be fair and honest and I’ll rhyme all my speeches
I Might even just leave you…

Speechless.

The baseline throbbed
And the chorus echoed
With liquid confidence
And a substance filled mind
As I approached from behind

I put my right hand on her hip
My left hand clinching my pabst
She turn around and said,
“I thought you were going grab my ***”

I spoke no words, just grinned
She smiled
I hadn’t had this much confidence
in a long while.
She whipped her hair and my heart went wild

“Do you want do dance with me?”
She whispered in my ear
I placed my other hand on her hip
My beer hit the floor
I whispered back
“That and so much more”

“I want to move
And make time stand still
I want you to whimper at my will
And rise to my roar”

“I want to show you how good I am with
My words
And my hands
And my tongue
And my lungs”

“I want to show you the world
I want to paint portraits of mountains
Before climbing them
And from mountain tops I want to
Draw the sky
I want our eyes
To gaze at the stars within us”

“I want to learn everything about you
As I show you everything I am”

“I want to dance for you
As you dance for me”

We danced all evening

And due to my success on this night
It was the highest I had ever been.

“Listen here kid, have a seat.
Let me tell you about
The family.”*

You can choose your friends
But you can’t choose
Your family….

…and apparently you can’t choose
your career either.

This is dedicated to
my brother in crime
The younger brother
With stronger
Morals and values
Than mine.

The family is broken,
And your older brother is broke
And in the eyes of a distant father
You know we are both jokes

We are not prodigies
We are not straight A students
We are small town oddities
And some would say we are ruined

We were born into this life.
We were born into financial comfort
Bathed in upper middle class stability
Taught racism is acceptable as long
As we keep it to ourselves, and laugh
As if we are not serious.

We learned that as we grow up, dreams become schemes

We were raised believing we would succeed.
And success is defined by money.

The monetary system is god.
I will be the doctor
You will be the lawyer
And because the system isn’t flawed
We are.

Money is not good, money is god.
I’ve spent a lot of god on beer.

So when we watch our bloodline bicker
Like bad kids in sandboxes,
When we watch adults undermine
Each other’s “parenting skills”
Remember,

You did not chose this
You were born into this.

And as the age old argument
Of genetic versus environment
Rages on like arguments
Over furniture and kitchenware
Remind yourself
It’s not an argument.
Its your environment.

Today my little brother’s heart was broken
And his dreams were shattered like a
Malicious marriage
Divorced, and separated,
By god.

My little brother will not be an RCMP officer
And if he doesn’t know it yet,
This is the best thing to ever happen to him.

Just because your eyes aren’t apparently good enough
They have never stopped you from seeing right from wrong
They are wrong.
You are more then alright.

Cops are more crooked than the criminals they can’t catch
So whatever you do, don’t catch flack
For not having a backup plan
You turn 17 tomorrow, man…
Kid.
Be one.
For a kid can be anything.

You can race san dunes in the desert.
You can rebuild muscle cars and motorbikes.
You can make unique one of a kind furniture.
You can open a restaurant, even a bar.
You can be the next big sensation in Country music, or rap.
Or both.
You will live. You will smile
And you will make other do the same.

Brother, we can do anything.
Hell, when our parents die,
Miserable and alone,
We will inherit their throne
all of their god.

And we can take their god,
Design ourselves some superhero outfits
Break laws in order to fix them
We can grow and sell dope by donation
And make the difference
That neither our parents
Or the police
Are able to do.

I’m proud to share blood with you.
We are superheroes.
We are gods.
We are brothers in crime.

How did you celebrate your birthday?
Err… I mean Earth Day?
Were bright spring days, darkened and dampened?
Was your frontage road flooded? From your front deck did you
Watch? Did you check your watch for the time?
Or even the date? Lately, have you been letting the night fall
without getting your feet wet?
Is there still time yet?

Grey skies will always be greater,
brighter than any man made light.
Pyramids will always inspire more awe than
Skyscrapers.

Sitting under a bridge, you almost feel
as if you could scrape the sky yourself.
The roaring motors above pale
in comparison to the still, strong waters.

My still mind no longer wanders.
Instead, today, it wonders
in privilege and presence
Like it’s my birthday.

My birth right is to look north down the lake
and to look up at swaying tree tops.
Yet they are still … still
and tranquil.

I myself, will again begin to rotate and spin
as a wish, to wander
and travel
and journey
and manifest destiny
for the small town beauty
as a destination fails compared to the journey…

..and the journey is greater then the destination?
Sure, but a cliché, is less than the person.

I rub my bare toes
In wet grass
In wet sand
In cold water

Let it rain whenever mother wishes
because she lets me make my own wishes come true.
Let the wind blow out and candles
let her eat more delicious
wet
cake,
and let me play in more dirt
let me see more
lakes

by next Earth Day.