"saskatchewan" poems
the lakewater near the banks darken with the shadows of coniferous trees
not unlike the way my ***** darkened just the other evening with transgression
and i find myself waiting,arcing the ash from my cigarette in fiery transient streaks.
this is north west angle's public dock, a sunken relic of the anishinabe
appropriately too young to be old just like the ******* rest of us.
kee no wahh she spits with conviction,
her forked tongue a testament to the near science fiction
that keeps its ugly head low to the ground
in the backwater communities of
rural ontario and manitoba
and saskatchewan
and beyond.
purple and yellow and green galaxies span across the deep space of my neck
and that's good enough, they reckon, to land me in the passenger's seat.
now the sun's shallow beneath the canadian shield
leaving only a violent, open **** on the skyline
and the watered down blood of ritual sacrifice to
filter up through the cheesecloth of the underbrush
and effectively discolour the poplars in a pastel
identical to the lining of my ****
so ask me how many children have been
stranded on the pallid, uneven terrain of my thighs
and i'll stop making references to my ******
Feb 22, 2010
Feb 22, 2010 at 10:12 AM UTC
Like drinking water out of mason jars
Like reading through fake plastic glass
Like dressing in your grandparents bolts of fabric
Like holding an unfiltered cigarette
Or even better a wooden pipe…
Smoke swelling in closed mouths
And nostrils blowing in sailboat clouds
Down to the next not- Starbucks
To sit on a velvet couch with
Coral painted nails and a chai in hand...
You all can be like this.
With no workout clothes and
With at least two piercings in your nose
You all are like this soon enough.
Who gave you the idea to pick up the
Ukulele anyway?
Who gave you the idea to shave one quarter
Of your head?
We all did. We all are a
Fleet of individual sameness,
A want to stand out from the
Cookie- cutter looks,
But now we’re all cupcakes
With the same story but with
Different hooks
For hands, snagging the rest
Of us along.
With your identical twin lipstick
And Birkenstock feet.
The lack of shock we absorb
Gets lonely and depressing.
So lets all move to Montreal
And French kiss and knit
And maybe real soon the
Croissants will go stale
And it’ll be cool to live
In Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan.
Feb 7, 2013
Feb 7, 2013 at 6:35 PM UTC
There is rutabaga, and ratatouille, gotta love alliteration
Then Albuquerque and Tallahassee, are somewhere in our nation
And Saskatoon, Saskatchewan found in Canada, my dear
In old colloquial, there were hooligans and shenanigans, I fear
At school I use a dongle it connects me to my work
I hope I didn't bumfuzzle you, didn't mean to be a ****
Just one more word on my short list and to see what it can do
Find the one you love and in sweet soft voice just turn and utter "pooh"
Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 9:30 AM UTC
IN the cool of the night time
The clocks pick off the points
And the mainsprings loosen.
They will need winding.
One of these days...
they will need winding.
Rabelais in red boards,
Walt Whitman in green,
Hugo in ten-cent paper covers,
Here they stand on shelves
In the cool of the night time
And there is nothing...
To be said against them...
Or for them...
In the cool of the night time
And the clocks.
A man in pigeon-gray pyjamas.
The open window begins at his feet
And goes taller than his head.
Eight feet high is the pattern.
Moon and mist make an oblong layout.
Silver at the man's bare feet.
He swings one foot in a moon silver.
And it costs nothing.
One more day of bread and work.
One more day ... so much rags...
The man barefoot in moon silver
Mutters "You" and "You"
To things hidden
In the cool of the night time,
In Rabelais, Whitman, Hugo,
In an oblong of moon mist.
Out from the window ... prairielands.
Moon mist whitens a golf ground.
Whiter yet is a limestone quarry.
The crickets keep on chirring.
Switch engines of the Great Western
Sidetrack box cars, make up trains
For Weehawken, Oskaloosa, Saskatchewan;
The cattle, the coal, the corn, must go
In the night ... on the prairielands.
Chuff-chuff go the pulses.
They beat in the cool of the night time.
Chuff-chuff and chuff-chuff...
These heartbeats travel the night a mile
And touch the moon silver at the window
And the bones of the man.
It costs nothing.
Rabelais in red boards,
Whitman in green,
Hugo in ten-cent paper covers,
Here they stand on shelves
In the cool of the night time
And the clocks.
2.5k
wednesday ..
is faded black jeans/old white tank (too big) (hole from belt buckle centre front)
glass of water stuck into the rings left by past week's mugs of beer
sitting by the ashtray. and you are better than a nip of rye in the truck cab heading to work.
the dust in my lungs (wide open saskatchewan fields)
is not as important as watching the clouds stain purple with the sunrise
patting two gorgeous farm dogs who run over from behind a silo turned to bronze in the light
(there is an angel laying naked in the wheat grain)
to nip playfully at my calves while i unchain the derrick,
somewhere in my mind's recess it feels like i am loosing atlas from his *******
tho i do not register the thought until later upon waking from a nap.
saturday // 1:15:44 pm
i am in only briefs now working on a song/i clocked 4
hrs greasing truck 1117 this morning and
hauling pallets.
daylene from dispatch brought in donuts.
i'll spend the afternoon listening to kanye and talking to women online.
—there are no girls in estevan. i have (kind of) looked.
sometimes i believe this to be pathetic but then i think further ahead
and it's not so bad.
you do really meet some nice girls. phone is replete with their numbers &
they keep me company on long rides to and from leases,
asking about work. hoping that i am well.
(once back home by christmas account will be deleted and i can
take them out at my leisure. you'll understand i hope that i am not
a desperate man. but one has to work with that which he has.
would you rather i go lonely? make my home in the mud to croon hank williams to crows?)
(temporality.)
15/10/2012
there are now three beer cans on the carpet & one on the washing machine by the
bathroom door which i will drink in the shower.
it was sort of a long day.
Oct 15, 2012
Oct 15, 2012 at 3:09 PM UTC
When I was wee my feets was small.
They found no grip, I'd trip and fall.
I'd stumble bumble left and right
From morning sun to bed-time night.
But as I grew my feets did too.
They grew out of both sock and shoe!
And when I slept they grew some more.
They grew right out my bedroom door!
They grew right out onto the lawn
And when I woke my feets was gone!
I sat there scared within my bed
Just wondering where my feets had fled.
Did my feets go out on a trip
Along the Mighty Mississip?
Were they stomping Kansas corn,
Or hanging ten in Californ?
Hiking in Saskatchewan
Or Yucatan or cold Yukon?
All day long and into night
I worried of my Feets's plight.
Worried that they'd never phone
To tell me they was coming home,
Worried that I'd be bereft
Of both my feets, the right and left!
And so I pictured my two feets
Just wandering dark Parisian streets,
Or alleys in the south of Spain,
Or freezing in the Russian rain,
Or separated in Des Moins
Without the calf, the knee, the *****
But wait! Hold on! What's this I see?
I'm such a goof, oh silly me!
I did not lose my big old feets!
They were just sleeping 'neath my sheets!
Jan 30, 2011
Jan 30, 2011 at 9:57 PM UTC
the Saskatchewan plains (planes,
plain) stretch eastward beyond you;
sumptuous emptiness pocked with
the 14 hour streetlight of the sun- -
you are out of your mind and in
everything else. you are free now.
remember that you do not find
yourself. you create yourself(z)
you create yourself(z) - -
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 1:42 PM UTC
Do you hear the trees that talk in whispers
see the leaves that fall as spears
can you feel the mountains breathe?
I am ice in flowing rivers on a journey to the sea
Spring came early
and
fooled me
drip
drip
fall off the ledge and off on this trip of a lifetime
my life's fine
I'm just melting.
Swearing to God doesn't help me
the sea rises up before me
and I
disappear.
Next year
I'll be ready.
Nov 7, 2016
Nov 7, 2016 at 3:34 PM UTC
Ross was good,
Part-Choctaw, Part-Saskatchewan,
he'd sniff the air for his direction,
could spot a pebble out of place,
understand broken twigs.
He loved to work at night,
backtracking was a skill,
garroting his specialty,
he had fourteen dings.
Part-Celt, Part-Heinz-57
I understood similar things,
my notches stand
at just under ten.
Mar 11, 2014
Mar 11, 2014 at 5:56 PM UTC
Oh you know just smokin dat dope. Lol. Who's all from Saskatchewan CA?
Oct 3, 2015
Oct 3, 2015 at 2:05 AM UTC
I've got a line of ex's
Saskatchewan to Texas
And I left a good impression
Every time
Cause when you keep
An open channel
Life ain't too hard
To handle
And you keep
A little loving
On the line
Jun 26, 2015
Jun 26, 2015 at 9:25 AM UTC
The lady that used to wait aside the wings
and sing to all
to let us know the show was done
has gone.
Moved to a farm in Saskatchewan
where as a second wife to Edward Stone
she inherited another life
another home
and she's much slimmer now
you wouldn't recognise the girl who used to sing
and bring the curtain down.
Three pigs,two cows,some hens and sows
and she just loves it so.
She wonders why she didn't go much sooner
why she was slow
and time was quick to take advantage of her looks.
She cleans and cooks but does not sing
for fortune has it that
might bring bad luck.
And clucks,how
she clucks among the hens
throws the corn collects the eggs
pecked once or twice upon her legs
all part of her new day.
She's glad,
she wouldn't have it any other way.
And Edward's such a lovely man
five foot eight
broad shoulders
and he usually sports a tan.
In Saskatchewan
the lady never sings.
Apr 30, 2013
Apr 30, 2013 at 7:18 AM UTC
In a town just up the mountain
straight out of an old John Wayne movie
where there's no parking lots
just places to tie up your horse
and the jail has one cell
and you'd expect to see Billy the Kid
breaking out of it any minute now
joshua trees
and tumble weeds
and all the bars have swinging doors
and there's a coffin leaning up against one of the walls
of the bar with the swinging doors
that's where you took me to your favorite place in the whole world
a restaurant
where a different band plays every night
with a different sound and a different look
from ones composed of old hippies and cowboys
playing their accordions and mandolins
singing old folk songs that everybody just knows
you don't know how you know
you just do
and then to the band of kids
straight out of suburbia
singing songs about ******* and heartache
with their hair slicked back
and their pants rolled up
and their moms are sitting right there
in a table right in front of the stage
eating burgers and salads and talking about the burgers and salads
then there's the girl from New York
she spells her name real weird and keeps her hair long and flowing
just like her dress
and she sings about empty motel rooms
and the Bhagavad Gita
and she tells stories in between songs
and there's writing all over the bathroom walls
little gems like
"what would Joan Jett do?"
or
"punks not dead, punks sleepin' drunk"
but mostly
just names of lovers in hearts
sometimes just initials like a secret code only they know
and the dates that they became lovers
there's paintings on all the doors
horses and hookers and cowboys under the stars
and all the walls around the stage
are covered in license plates
one from California from 1939
one shaped like a bear from Canada
one from Saskatchewan
wherever that is
and all the drinks
come in mason jars
and all the candles on the tables do too
and none of the chairs match
but that just makes them all unique
you're sitting in a one of a kind
but the whole place is really one of a kind
and that's why it's her favorite
she finds all these things to be just beautiful
not to mention the bartender keeps giving her free drinks
because it's her birthday and they take her word for it
and she's making friends with all the hippies
and she's dancing under the strings of lights
and we're kissing under the dark black sky
and I've never seen her so happy.
s.mndi
Jun 25, 2014
Jun 25, 2014 at 12:07 PM UTC
There's power in the name
But the name's been lost for centuries
There's poison in the water
But the water tastes like honey
And we're so thirsty we don't care where we wake up tomorrow
We don't care, the question can hardly hold our attention
And this is a song for your young men to sing when they run out of options
Yeah, when they run out of options
There's the faith you can give or withhold
And then there's the one true faith
There's the revolution you came for
And the one you're eventually going to get.
And there's a road that starts right here and leads clear up to Saskatchewan
And I brought a full tank and a '67 Mustang
And this is a song for your young women to whistle
While they're driving at high speeds down the highway
The wind up in the trees
The song on the wind
There's a message in the song
But the message is hopelessly complicated
And the words are written on water
And disappear before you can write them down
But I, I brought the Polaroid
And this the song
And everybody's gotta sing along
But it hasn't got a chorus
God **** it all
Apr 28, 2011
Apr 28, 2011 at 9:41 PM UTC
Saskatchewan
Is the most surreal
Province there is
Building that look like school
Milk cartons
It does not get that wonderful
It does not get that surreal
Strange
Or
Beautiful
Tall milk cartoons
Sticking out of no where
How alien
Feb 20, 2021
Feb 20, 2021 at 9:15 PM UTC
This shows that the lion is less expensive.
Trying for Bettie's immortal glory
The space will be cleaned.
Medicines. The brain is part of it.
Paris is a very famous blue sky.
At a big party, Abub tried to try a house
Theater Theater. Below
It's a secret. Focuses on worshiping
The prostitutes and rules of Pittsburgh
Emphasizes the NIHHH. I went to Ian,
Young and police. He has received it
Greek clothes and clothes for women
City. The meeting was organized
in the light in Saskatchewan, CA.
Add strawberries and leaves. they
said too many things on the radio. Rain,
rain, rain, rain, rain and public protection.
Before buying your face, use white,
White, White, Bad, Glory, Scam, Scam,
Second Jass, Michael Michiko
He was arrested and sentenced
to three months For the elderly. It protects
the beautiful entrance And true love
is killed by six "six" men In jail
in Oregon, California. Johnny, Nancy;
[ ] ...
Nov 20, 2018
Nov 20, 2018 at 7:34 AM UTC
Here's to those who suffer voluntarily,
who rise above the mean and merely momentary
pleasure that we feel sitting on a couch,
eating Cheetos, watching reruns of "The Brady Bunch";
those who exercise, walk fast (raising weights
with their arms in rhythm to their feet),
jog, or actually even run --
as long as there's no clear goal in mind,
no Olympic medal, no short-skirted cheerleaders
proffering kisses;
residents of Blakely, Georgia, and Moosejaw, Saskatchewan,
who steadfastly resist removal to California
and similar climes, knowing intuitively
that delight in perfect weather is born in sub-zero winters,
in summer's humid swelter;
those who do without air-conditioning,
using the money for a violin
or books or trips to the local swimming pool;
those who fast, mortify the flesh, --
or at least skip breakfast occasionally,
refusing to indulge every ****** whim,
letting them ripen, at least now and then,
into actual, robust hunger;
monks in solemn Kentucky silence,
some, I suppose, are misanthropes, here I speak of those
with a normal affection for chat and hubbub
who restrict themselves to a reverent silence,
speech being used only in extremity;
blood donors.
Jun 14, 2019
Jun 14, 2019 at 8:27 PM UTC
I had a simple wonder, one day,
As to why the moon has been yellow
Particles in the air, of course,
But what particles and from where?
I did some research on the wild fires in Canada
There is a jet stream carrying smoke
From Saskatchewan down to Iowa
Covering Minnesota, where I live.
This is an example of how the Earth is One Place
Events thousands of miles away can occur
Anywhere else on the Earth
And my first experience of allergies,
I willingly accept as part of the wild fires
That rage in Canada
Over one thousand miles away.
Harder to accept is,
the Fukishima nuclear plant which
Is still pouring radiation into the sea
And how that radiation has
Made its way to the US West Coast
All the way from Japan.
Something so very far away, is simultaneously,
So very intimate and near.
The Earth is all One Place
And we are part of the Earth
We make the Earth our *****
Instead of our intimate and loving partner.
~Arianna Elise Darshani
Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 4:58 PM UTC
Although the VLAN is an Eastern queen
and a romantic relationship, the VAPP network
is available through your networks, your ALS,
Karollo Christian, your honor, and this heavy weight,
intolerable, and just. Sanma and the corpse
taught to force the world's most intelligent
people to **** their powerful forces, "says Tom Om Om,
a Rami Tulu marker. The rest of the snow,
anti-light lamps, the new social
welfare site in the public square
and the American village on the road, Lamb, et al.,
Lion Noel Literature: John John's
Reliable Design Jiao's Baby Jace SAA
includes US blood on US and Latin American
and other animal breeds 1 wooden box in Spain.
Differentiated Advertising.
They cannot write, they call the East Lake,
the New Koumut Kudin Euessin,
and they do not all have the ability
to listen in the temple: in the popular
British Revolution and in other Eastern European countries
in the American Revolution, the pastoralist
American Revolutionary Church and / or the Temple of the Holy Temple William P. Central and American Life
for Six Threats and 1,000
and Two Minutes Family
and Ethical Peoples Public Goods,
Vitamin Monies are used to improve
legal explanations for the next.
Soviet ice cold yeroyikozušu new snow.
Church and others. Yemoniyu
world order of nature,
the world, the United States
and Europe inserts.
River Penh temple. PU Rijk, the number
of Central Museum.
John the Baptist is good.
The company translations.
Welcome Center in the Tennen.
Asian and Chinese Saskatchewan
American Essay Computer Essentials;
Sushi Dari Dahala. In six,
the rich man is Arassa Abebe Arce.
Arrows can be reset. Einstein prepares
the closure of the city of Nuremberg;
Canada, just as the group's species
come from one resource to another.
All of these people do not have the power to listen to the temple.
The most expensive of the US Revolution,
Italy's gardens, for example,
is an example in the European
Relationship Church. Roadblocks,
Cynos Authors and Eastern Affairs,
William P Eastern and US Health
Services are better for security and co-workers.
Listen to six Chorus of the Divine, not two loyal believers,
but Richard and others.
Feb 1, 2019
Feb 1, 2019 at 8:22 PM UTC
To escape the constraints of a mundane life,
you slip into the tenebrous shadows of the night
which are only interrupted by intervals of streetlights,
washing the night street with an orange glow.
against the wide windows of houses, figures show,
you feel like the loneliest being alive.
Your shoes push against leaves, dusted with snow
and ripe with the smell of death - surprisingly sweet.
Coming upon a path, you ponder the beauty and danger
of the night-fallen forest, magnetically pulling you to go.
Your sight flees you, leaving the interjection of where all sounds meet:
the whisper of tree branches, murmurs of the Saskatchewan River.
While people are tucked away in their homes, deep in peaceful slumber,
You and the night have never been awake.
Oct 24, 2020
Oct 24, 2020 at 2:39 PM UTC
There in Saskatchewan
There is this broken down
School house
For the olden days
Lit up by the stars of the Big Dipper
Just above the house it’s self
I wish I could take a
Photo
Feb 21, 2021
Feb 21, 2021 at 11:04 AM UTC