"fundy" poems
Manning up in Texas
Geldof overdose
needles at the bed stand
starlet comatose
California dreaming
killer meets demise
hurling in a taxi
puke fee on the rise
Fighting in the Gaza
Jordan's holy war
rebels on a mission
Jihad underscore
The North Korean riddle
pales in grand design
crisis on the border
planes fall from the sky
Cooking on a deadline
tempting tapenades
herbs are in the spotlight
wines that give a nod
Google maps the body
DOW at record highs
Uber comes to market
corn is on the rise
Apple on its earnings
Caterpillar dead
European sanctions
banks have **** the bed
Clippers threaten boycott
Longhorns follow purge
Lynch is out of training camp
James is on the verge
Leinart taking *** shots
coughing up a lung
lions take a licking
fans are throwing dung
Another day in Vegas
Primm from A-Z
rolling out an ankle
a flying SUV
Quiet tempting spaces
made better by design
multi color pea coat
silence fuels the mind
Stabbing in the subway
goat caught in a well
apes are selling tickets
(but leave behind a smell)
Puberty on trial
a man without a head
teachers feel alone
lets take them to the shed!
Jonah's tomb destroyed
wreckage in Mumbai
Sugar Daddy sites
Freedom 85
The immigrant debate
Russia's mounting toll
unions on a mission
heads are gonna roll
Beaches for the nudists
hotels on the cheap
the best generic brands
a list you have to keep!
Planning your estate
questions from the camp
a mansion up for sale
where once they filmed The Champ
Midwives threaten action
aboriginal act
truckers want concessions
that train has left the track
Sharks are found in Fundy
a prized but perilous catch
food we love to hate the most
an irrefutable batch
A family on the brink
I want my kids to fail!
politicians drains all hope
a ban on Israel
Follow out each headline
let the columns be your guide
all these things did happen
the day that Newhouse died
Aug 2, 2017
Aug 2, 2017 at 10:29 AM UTC
The water came up
with the wind
and pushed us back
among the small flat
stones upon the shore
The fastest tides
in the world
lead by dark red foam
and the scream
of the infinite divide
Dec 2, 2012
Dec 2, 2012 at 12:51 AM UTC
I sit and look over the Basin of Minas
Still waters reflect as fine as an optical mirror
The Cape juts out as the prow of some ancient ship
Eternally pushing its way through the long, slow tides
Acting as a wall separating Fundy from the Valley
It stands silhouetted against dark clouds that may hold rain
A white blanket of fog wraps itself slowly over the Cape
Standing out as bright as clean, white cotton
Molding itself over the land
As a blanket molds itself over a reclining person
Emotions are relaxed by the sight
Calm enters the soul with this view
Eternal beauty for all to see
Overlooked by the many
A sense of belonging envelopes me
Just as the fog envelopes the Cape.
Dan Gray
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 10:54 AM UTC
Bare rose colored lips spitting Minnesota slush.
You thrash expertly with an accelerating fury,
Like a volcano spewing molten lava,
Cursing upwardly.
You stared up from the cold rock ground.
Monstrously,
Savagely.
Seventeen steps away from me.
You beat Satan’s rooftop with fists full of anger.
Aggressively,
Ferociously,
Now ten steps apart from me,
The beating orange ball made your fury grow.
With a rising intensity.
Now five steps from me.
Your lavish brown hair finally resting on your shoulder
Cautiously,
Patiently,
One hand away from me.
Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 4:59 PM UTC
The shadows fall and
all in all
nightfall
will soon be upon us.
The campfires
smoking
giving the darkness
a grayish tinge.
This Split juts
out into the Fundy Bay,
now with the sun gone
it will grow even colder.
Low laying clouds
mingle with the smoke,
if you remain quiet
you can hear more that the crackle
of the burning wood.
From behind the trees,
something eerie
to make you shiver.
To let you know you are in the wild.
A stream runs through the woods.
The fresh water for the morning coffee
has already been drawn,
plastic jugs and canteens full.
There are bears
and coyotes and deer
out here,
but in all the time
coming out to
this breath taking cliff
I have never run into either.
This time I have come
with a purpose other than
the fresh air and sounds of the ocean
far below.
My father's last wish,
to have his ashes
scattered over the side
to the rocks and water.
This is where he grew up,
the small village at the base of the cliff.
I was born here and I never called it home.
Now I am proud to come from such
a beautiful place.
My mother, a native,
my father, an import from Boston.
So much history needing to be sifted through.
So much a mystery when it comes to my Dad.
A plaque will adorn the small cemetery,
with my fathers full name,
-Irving Richard MacPherson-
My mother already buried there.
He never liked his name
so he called himself Richard.
Now I find myself choosing Irving
over Kenneth for mine.
I will die and when I do
I will join my father
in the vastness of the Atlantic.
Such a beautiful end to a good life.
May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 9:59 AM UTC
Took a ten mile drive
To the Bay of Fundy
The tides out for miles
We climb down the loose shale
On the beach we can hear the tidewater rushing
The red clay hills feel like a dream
The beauty of it all, wholesome and true
I could baptised my self in the muddy murky red
Jun 20, 2017
Jun 20, 2017 at 1:48 AM UTC