My father, rise up from your slumber, Defy the chains of death’s decay, Let not corruption hold you, Since it stole your breath away.




Rise and haunt my private musings, And forever guide my choice, In your absence, yet keep close, Beset me with your voice.




I need your trusted aegis, To banish infant fears, Though the clock’s relentless ticking, Has aged me past your years.




In silence, we coexist, Our secrets softly lie, Rise again, father, visit me, Linger, tarry, utter not goodbye.

half of you remember cd’s
and half of you don’t
either way,
here it goes;

back then, I was living under rules so strict
it was almost impossible for someone to live.

no matter how much I tried to hide
or stay out of the way,
and no matter how much I tried to help out
and do my part;

I could never meet their standards.

what was good was never acknowledged
and what was bad was over-exaggerated.

basic existence was a crime
and the consequence was
always a long and
drawn-out
lecture

and as unsettling as
the home life was
I had my car,
the outside world,
and the hunger for
mischievous adventure.

and so, staying at home
was the last of my options
as I ventured out with no plan in mind
and a whole lot of time on my hands.

now, someone could easily get bored
with this formula;
I mean, you only could go out
to eat three times a day,
you could only visit friends
when they were around
and going shopping
was only a temporary fix
if you had money to burn
but this formula could also
be very interesting
if you’re creative enough
and you had
the knack,
the niche,
the crave
for something.

and so, I found myself traveling
to A LOT of local record stores.
I didn’t care how far away they were,
as long as it was reasonable within
the vicinity, if I knew about it,
I was there: Kiss The Sky,
Rediscovered Records,
Record Breakers,
etc., etc., etc.

I was always on the hunt for something obscure,
something no one else had and to me, it was like
gem or a hidden treasure I had unearthed upon the world.

my fixation for music was growing
as mammoth as the variety in my
cd collection.

music was becoming the sole foundation
to the underpinnings of my necessity:
it’s what kept me alive, out of trouble,
it was there when friends were not,
it fulfilled those empty spaces
it quenched my thirst for
wanting something more out of life.

I spent most of time, driving around, popping in one cd,
listening to each note, each lyric from beginning to end
before switching it out for another.

Lee Ving, Richard Hell, Darby Crash, Henry Rollins
all spoke out to me more with one verse
than all those lectures I had endured
from my patriarchs.

my cd book had become quite impressive
to my other bevy of like-minded friends.

and then it was stolen.

which crushed me.
but what’s done was done and
I had to move on, rebuild

and at seventeen dollars a pop,
my bank account was diminishing quite rapidly
as I tried to gain back what was rightfully mine.

I dreamt about becoming a thief
or a drug dealer to support my
addiction to music.

but not long after,
I had built a body of music
more vigorous with stout
than its previous
ancestor.

of course, there were a few gems
I still haven’t recovered
to this day from that incident
but thats beside the point.

the point is,
my folks may have incarcerated
my soul with diction and delivery
while they hid for themselves
in the oratory of delusion,

but
music was always there;
it was alive
it ran through me
it tickled my spirit
it shook my emotions
it boosted my endorphins
it got me pumped, it got me ready
for whatever life was gonna throw at me,
to face the cliche and to face repercussions,
I knew it was going to be ok as long as there was music
to fiddle with my nerves and provide comfort within my heart.

I wonder if my father ever got my mother flowers,
if I'd seen a different kind of love
would I expect something different
expect more from people
feel like I deserved more
and not sell myself short
for any scraps I could get
hoping they'll finally fill me up

Now that Mum and Dad

are so quiet, I observe --


them extra closely.

in chains i stand
before you
trapped as i am
make me anew

release these bonds
break these chains
set me free
from all my pains

let me go
be who i'm meant to be
no matter what you say
i'll finally be me

Moonlight shone through the windows
and onto the floor in long,
bright
blue
rectangles.
The shadows from the leaves in the trees swayed back and forth like they were
dancing with the cold
November
night
wind.
The moon was their spotlight, my front yard was their stage
and they danced
with
no
music.
The trees savoured every moment with the wind, for they were each other’s lives,
and could not dance
without
the
other.
The trees cried when the wind was not there, and the wind came to wipe its tears,
and then
they
danced
again.