"winnipeg" poems
7:05, it's late September
and mid-continent can't decide
on a season
if it's Summer, Winter
or some patchwork in between
but I've
Decided
Falling on confusion's
not the same as hitting Springy grass
because I've seen
How hard December
clamps its jaws
on those Midwest city streets
--With famished eyes
and with breath howling
tries to find ways into me
So, clothed in shivers, one might stumble
Between bars, snowflakes, and friends
And cloudy skies and clouded glasses
tell you, "you'll never be young again!"
11:30, Minneapolis--
you're sure your ride is late.
Trudge through snow, and mud and asphalt
while skies thicken purple-grey.
And things are much the same in Bismarck
And much the
same in Winnipeg.
Thrusting frigid hands in pockets
restore some blood to aching legs.
"And it's another Midwest winter."
What more is there to say?
Respond to yourself and keep walking
Still miles away from home
Still a decade until morning
Another New Year's spent alone
--and growing old--
Now you remember last September--
It was still 80 degrees!
Now you're caught in Midwest winters--
Release a breath and watch thoughts freeze.
So just wait until next Summer
Your floor heater warms your toes
And it's wait until the next drink
to thraw your throat out: so it goes.
So it goes...
And goes and goes.
But you'll never be young again.
Oct 26, 2012
Oct 26, 2012 at 7:07 PM UTC
LAST night a January wind was ripping at the shingles
over our house and whistling a wolf song under the
eaves.
I sat in a leather rocker and read to a six-year-old girl
the Browning poem, Childe Roland to the Dark
Tower Came.
And her eyes had the haze of autumn hills and it was
beautiful to her and she could not understand.
A man is crossing. a big prairie, says the poem, and
nothing happens--and he goes on and on--and it's
all lonesome and empty and nobody home.
And he goes on and on--and nothing happens--and he
comes on a horse's skull, dry bones of a dead horse--
and you know more than ever it's all lonesome and
empty and nobody home.
And the man raises a horn to his lips and blows--he
fixes a proud neck and forehead toward the empty
sky and the empty land--and blows one last wonder-
cry.
And as the shuttling automatic memory of man clicks
off its results willy-nilly and inevitable as the snick
of a mouse-trap or the trajectory of a 42-centimetre
projectile,
I flash to the form of a man to his hips in snow drifts
of Manitoba and Minnesota--in the sled derby run
from Winnipeg to Minneapolis.
He is beaten in the race the first day out of Winnipeg--
the lead dog is eaten by four team mates--and the
man goes on and on--running while the other racers
ride, running while the other racers sleep--
Lost in a blizzard twenty-four hours, repeating a circle
of travel hour after hour--fighting the dogs who
dig holes in the snow and whimper for sleep--
pushing on--running and walking five hundred
miles to the end of the race--almost a winner--one
toe frozen, feet blistered and frost-bitten.
And I know why a thousand young men of the North-
west meet him in the finishing miles and yell cheers
--I know why judges of the race call him a winner
and give him a special prize even though he is a
loser.
I know he kept under his shirt and around his thudding
heart amid the blizzards of five hundred miles that
one last wonder-cry of Childe Roland--and I told
the six year old girl about it.
And while the January wind was ripping at the shingles
and whistling a wolf song under the eaves, her eyes
had the haze of autumn hills and it was beautiful
to her and she could not understand.
2.3k
In Winnipeg
they dig the winter graves
in autumn
before the sun sleeps
and the ground freezes.
They guess the number
of holes to dig.
They respect the cold
and the winter dead.
Death prediction
is a fine art
in Winnipeg.
© M.L.Emmett
Nov 10, 2015
Nov 10, 2015 at 10:35 AM UTC
Trafficking in recollections
trading
neon nights for bygone days.
From ceiling lights to humming street signs
sealed records come untied.
Another time far from perfection
close enough
for mapping smiles,
covering miles and chasing laughs
out of throats
and into corner booths.
Grabbing coats, it's back out into night,
sleeves shining tables the moment we go,
then arms entwining. Voices warmed,
we sang together
*"...seemed so brief
but it wasn't / Now
I know I had plenty of time..."* (Weakerthans)
When was it we went out walking,
bundled up through Winnipeg?
Easter Break? Or January, drifting,
chilled
through wind or meltwash?
Calendars defy me now, though
every night recall the time,
the place,
the lights of Your Great City
flashing off your coffee eyes
and through the heavy, falling snowflakes
on a Spring or Winter night.
I'm traffic on chilly sidewalks
trading
CO2 for oxygen.
No cars disturb the late night silence,
shallow breaths or slow footsteps.
And, as I walk against the signal,
late October
snow obscures
street signs, dulling laughs from doors
of the bars
and late night coffee haunts.
Seems so far to my small West Side home.
Heels hitting pavement and face turned to stars,
arms hanging downward, my voice, drowned
mouths words, half-quiet
*"...dusk comes on
and I follow / the exhaust
from memory up to the end..."* (Weakerthans)
Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 10:12 PM UTC
Huddle
And shiver
And scowl
turn away now
from snow-sunburnt faces
in cracked and frostbitten window panes
A chance taken lightly
won't wash away so easy
when the years mislaid thicken
and lips no longer speak freely
So I'll age, here, in silence
and dance with ghosts of better days
cross yellowing pages
stitch Bighorn peaks to the snowy plains
Your brown eyes were wet.
My greyscale soul had shattered.
While you left and forgot me,
I divorced from all that matters
Teeth grind
ears dull
days fade out
Shuffle
And stumble
Sit down
hunch away, now.
A strange face in red light
dissembles truths out of frosting frames
A proverb so simple,
"Not all is gold which glistens,"
Could have lived in the shimmer,
but I never listened.
So I'll dream, here, out westward
sleep next to bones of better days
let my drunken memories
trace bus routes back up to Winnipeg
Your brown eyes were wet
as roadway stitches unraveled
My blue eyes filled with question marks,
then they hardened up into gravel
I'm echoing footfalls on stairs
in the night
You're our spectral laughter in summer
bathed in cups of wine
Fade out.
Teeth grind. Ears dull. Days fade out.
Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 5:02 PM UTC
Un-relentlessly beaconing to us with the ebb and flow of passing time,
Lake Winnipeg crashed against her rocky shoreline.
Creating harmonious ambiance for the star struck budding lovers lost in each others eyes.
Oh contingency, lock your hands with fate.
Make this moment surpass even time.
Jul 22, 2015
Jul 22, 2015 at 9:24 AM UTC
Sono sposata con un pilota e sono sicuro al 100% che non importa quanto duramente ** pregato .che non ha potuto ottenere le foto di fidanzamento questo freddo .Queste due devono avere alcune connessioni piuttosto sorprendente per avere Josh Dookhie Fotografia sparare loro sesh impegno sulla pista .Sono totalmente geloso .
Condividi questa splendida galleria
Da sposa.Una sessione day-to -tramonto impegno esclusivo sulla pista di Winnipeg James Armstrong Richardson International Airport .con scatti del suggestivo terminale vecchio prima che fosse abbattuto .
Non solo ci piace viaggiare .ma mio marito Nevin e ** incontrato all'aeroporto quando entrambi abbiamo lavorato lì.quindi era giusto che fosse l'impostazione per la nostra sessione di fidanzamento ** usato per lavorare lì abiti da sposa 2014 in Marketing durante il tempo che il nuovo edificio terminal è stato costruito.Nevin lavora ancora lì come elettricista campo d'aviazione .Ecco come siamo arrivati accesso alla possibilità piste - un quasi nessun altro sarebbe in grado di avere!Il padre di Nevin è stato anche un controllore del traffico aereo fino al suo ritiro .quindi nel complesso l'aeroporto è un posto speciale per noi e la nostra famiglia .
Nel momento in cui abbiamo fatto il servizio fotografico .il nuovo terminal aveva appena aperto ( che ha fornito una splendida cornice ) e il vestiti da sposa vecchio
terminal .dove avevamo incontrato - era stato abbattuto in un paio di settimane .E 'stato così speciale per noi essere in vestiti da sposa grado di ottenere scatti che caratterizzano sia gli edifici - il nostro passato e il nostro futuro
fotografia: Josh Dookhie Fotografia | Aeroporto : Winnipeg James Armstrong Richardson International Airport | Coordinamento + Styling : LouLou
http://www.belloabito.com/abiti-da-sposa-c-1
http://www.belloabito.com/goods.php?id=14
http://188.138.88.219/images_ld/td//t35/product_thumb/1/3803335353535_391851.jpg
Jun 27, 2014
Jun 27, 2014 at 10:12 PM UTC
Hey there mister,
How'd you'd get that hook?
I got it out at sea,
There was a fun loving *****
With a rusty wrench,
Telling me where I couldn't be.
Hey there mister,
How'd you get that patch?
I got it out at sea,
There was an unfed parrot,
With a ***** mouth,
Who plucked it out of me.
Hey there mister,
Where'd you get that peg leg?
Let me guess,
Out at sea?
Well I lost my leg,
Up in Winnipeg,
When I was run over by a taxi.
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 9:17 PM UTC
We just woke up
near a river in Winnipeg.
I swear
she's following me in my dreams,
she knows I'm a sinner.
We locked ourselves
in suspended animation,
me on top,
strictly missionary,
kissing her like no tomorrow,
fully engaged in her **** spirit.
She is definitely God's creation,
his alignment of the planets
allowed us to circumvent
the natural order.
I attacked her from every angle,
the sound of her moistness
& our glorious movements
were louder than
the gurgling waters
outside our tent.
It seemed like hours,
but in a matter of minutes,
our dams burst
in an explosion
unrivaled in this hemisphere.
I have no fear of ghosts now,
her stunning apparition
can awaken me anytime
to break me, to feel
my warm waters flow.
Lord knows she's listening
from the stars above,
twinkling her magic
& receiving cascading
pleasure from me.
Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 5:12 AM UTC
There was another brother whom history forgets
And though born a fisherman, he preferred other nets.
The coterie of rink rats who lived on the Left Coast
Thought he was sine qua non, and they would often boast
*He’s better than his brother Joe,
Es-ki-mo Di-mag-gi-o.*
His slapper had heat to make a goalie wet himself;
His wrister was money either five-hole or top-shelf.
After the goaltender felt another puck **** by,
He’d curse and bang the crossbar as fans took up the cry
*He’s better than his brother Joe,
Es-ki-mo Di-mag-gi-o.*
He dominated rinks out West like no other man
From Calgary to Saskatoon, Fresno to Spokane.
He’d hat tricks in Winnipeg, six-point games in Moose Jaw
Moving scribes to hackneyed verse written in fits of awe.
*He’s better than his brother Joe,
Es-ki-mo Di-mag-gi-o.*
Though the man was a fine skater, strong, agile and fleet
The slightest flaw in the ice caused anguish to his feet
And he would scold arena crews—*What’d you call this mush?
‘Tis nothing but chips and ruts; I’d rather skate on slush!*
(More prickly than his brother Joe,
Es-ki-mo Di-mag-gio.)
After one match in Oakland on ice unduly rough
He stormed into the locker room, shouting ‘Nuff’s enough!
He didn’t change his sweater as he stormed out the door,
Hopping on a trolley car, to be seen never more
(He’s a bit loony, don’t you know.
Es-ki-mo Di-mag-gi-o.)
He was sighted in the Yukon, once or perhaps twice
Engaged in some mad mission to find the perfect ice.
Neither man nor beast can say what became of this fool,
Though bits of skate lace appear in petrified bear stool
(Tastes better than his brother Joe?
Es-ki-mo Di-mag-gi-o.)
Mar 29, 2017
Mar 29, 2017 at 10:10 AM UTC
In the United States, Russia, the United States of America,
New York, New York, New York, United Nations,
more than 120 people already involved in Russia.
Russia and the United States, Canada,
Israel, Karachi, Proteus, New York,
Winnipeg, Canada, Britain, Iraq, Belgium,
Hungary, Germany, Brazil, Africa, Criignan,
4th St. Skunky New Yorker,
in the city of Winnipeg in white gloves,
Montenegro, Canada's 100 Dillings, Canada, Russia,
120x120 in the United States, Thomas England, Asia, Russia, Romania
120x120, New York, New York, United States, Germany, Israel, Brazil, Canada, Russia, Latin America, Diotrepheses in Britain,
Canada (and thousands of Yeviki maps)
and Russia -IV, New York, Winnipeg, Monaco,
half of the US military in Asia, Brazil
and France. Big Game's score 100-20 in Mexico,
New York, USA, Canada, Russia, Israel, 120;
Most of Israel, Germany,
Brazil, Russia and Latin America thousands of miles away
from the back (Sunday, US), Canada, Russia, Romania,
Seattle, 120x120, which is based in Russia
and in Europe. In the United States, Russia,
the Americas, New York, New York, New York,
United Nations, Russia, who are included in it
and a further 120 for Brazil, piro fodiši,
New York, Winnipeg, Canada Russia, Russia,
Britain, ||| Iraq, Belgium, Hungary, Germany, Brazil, Africa,
kirimenini, 4 šikuwiyeni, New York, Winnipeg city
gloves, Montenegro, Canada 100 dulinigii, Canada,
Russia, 120 120 in the United States, Thomas; England,
Asia, Russia, Romania 120x120;
New York, New York, United States, Israel, Germany,
Israeli Brazilians, Canada, Russia, Latin America,
deyotē yifēški Britain, Canada (the United States, Britain,
Canada, Russia, yeshiwochi Yeviki's map) and 5-Russia,
New York, Winnipeg, in Monaco
half the US troops in Asia, Brazil and Spain. Great Game
100-20 Mexico, New York, USA, USA, Canada, Russia,
Israel, 120; Most of Israel, Germany, Brazil,
Russia and Latin America,
Russia and Europe, backed by (Sunday, US), Canada,
Romania, and Seattle, 120x120.
Oct 21, 2018
Oct 21, 2018 at 3:48 PM UTC
.
◢◤▀◥
▂▲▃▂▍▂
▃▂◢◤▀ ▀〓▀◣
◢▍ ▼ ◣▂
◥◣ ▍ ◢▀ ◣ ё ◥◣
▀◣ ▐◤ ◢◤■█◣▂ ▎
▍ ё ▀ ▍ ▍
◥◣ ◢ ◢▍ ▌
◥◣ ▲◣▃▂◢▲ ◢█◤
◥▄ ▀■ ◢▆█◣
▆◣ ▂▅████
██◣ ▄▅▅███████▌
▅███▅▂▅████████████◣
▅███████████████████■
◢◤▀■████████████■■◤▀■ ◥◣
▌ ▲██████████■ ▌ ◥◣
▍ ▍▌▀▀■■▀▀▀ ▌ ▍ ◥◣
▍ ▲ ▍ ▍ ▍ ▋
▂▬◣▌ ▄◢▀▆ ▎ ▍ ▎ ▌
◢ ▅▂ ▼ ▲┃ ▂▎ ┃ ▍
▼██◣ ▐◤◢◤▀ ◥◣ ◢◤ ▲▀▀◥◣ ◢◤
▀██ ▍ ▲ ▄◢◤ 〓▂ ▂▃▅◤ ▲◢◤
▀█▊ ▂▃▬◢◤▀■██▇◣ ▼ ◢◤
〓▀ ████▊ ▌ ▂◢◤▀
████◤ ◢◤ ▂▄◢◤
Poetry *****
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 11:03 AM UTC
i met karl denke once
had *** with him too
i met him on myspace,
he was the jealous type
and i loved it,
totally made me feel pretty
i met him in person
his mom called and asked him
who was over and if it was anyone important
he said no
i overheard the whole thing,
but karl made sure that i heard it
because he told me his mom had asked him if
i was his new girlfriend
and that he had said no.
then karl told me that he didn't owe me anything.
he also told me i was too tall,
he was used to shorter woman
"a lot shorter", he said
then another girl called,
he looked at the caller id
and said, "uh oh, i can't take this call now,
i'll call her back later"
karl didn't show me his city,
he kept me in his tiny apartment
it was a bachelor's he said
his refrigerator was very *****
when i got home
karl dumped me
because i asked him if he missed me
after i asked him that
he said:
"that's it, we're through"
he dumped me online
as i was listening to an mp3 file
he had just sent me via yahoo instant messenger
the song was "American Woman"
by the Guess Who,
a canadian rock band, formed in winnipeg in 1965
karl had planned the whole thing,
probably around the time he saw
my body wasn't built for reverse cowgirl
about a year after karl dumped
my american kardashian sized ***
we spoke on the phone about all his new girlfriends.
karl told me my writing was too angry.
karl is doing really good these days,
he posts book reviews on goodreads.com
about books that i think are popular fiction
but am not sure, since i have never heard of them
and almost never read popular fiction.
karl doesn't care if you like his reviews or not.
his mom posted a picture of him and his latest girlfriend,
who will maybe soon be his wife if she isn't already.
she is a lot shorter, and probably isn't american
so she is good enough for him.
can't wait until karl hangs himself.
i hope his mom posts a picture of that
on her facebook page.
Jul 1, 2017
Jul 1, 2017 at 5:21 AM UTC
Thirty-six years ago
Singing in the rain
My mind filled with dreams of singing inside
Somewhere
Maybe should have left that dream
Dream somewhere
Maybe somewhere
Like on a Winnipeg farm
Somewhere
Then I left my dream
Somewhere
I fought in secret wars for my country
Somewhere
But, there is no record of it
Anywhere
But, Somehow I managed to glean other dreams
with some (of them) having every color of the rainbow
I guess that that would be all of the colors
Not all the colors are true
I've been told to watch my timbre
How can I see what belongs to the ear?
So, I tell them where to put their pulgar
and number ten my amplitude
Here goes
Go Ahead and chuck-up Miss Bulimia
You're running way too high
Like A12 hertz
I haven't hit and absolute since high school
and that one came with too much f****ng dirt
The true witch, Miss Bulimia
With pendulums for breast
Wanted to entrapped me, slap
Some bracelets 'round my fists
I never could paste saccharin on to dog ****
And if I could it would not change the taste
I hope you find the one you want
Someone that never catches you
While I sit here
and slash both of my wrists
Cutting is such a natural, no frills high
Doesn't cost you much
But you could die
Better than a drug
You bleed your heart
every time you remember
how it starts
A dream
of love
gone
forever
Goodbye Miss Bulimic USA
You never could be true is what you said
Still living in a lie
If you got fat, you'd probably die
A head that gives
Is only just a head
Make fun of me
But, wait until I'm dead
Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 4:53 PM UTC
Christmas parades Christmas parades all over this good world
Full of clowns and floats and Santa Claus yeah a party for everyone
Commentators covering the event from their box and on the road
Kids cheering the parade entrants on as they pass right through saying
** ** ** merry Christmas dudes
What a day what a day
Everywhere
Bakersfield, Winnipeg, Disneyland, Perth, Adelaide and the combined Christmas thanksgiving parade in New York
What a day what a day
Party with people cheering as they march right down the street
Saying merry Christmas and happy holidays to the people
Yeah that is rather sweet
Christmas parades Christmas parades yeah the party is on for young and old and let's get down yeah let's get down and party and say merry Christmas
Jingle bells and feliz navidad as we sing about the time when a child is born of Mary's boy child
As the angels come up and sing
Christmas parades are so much fun ready to party for everyone
Enjoy your parade and happy Christmas
Nov 18, 2017
Nov 18, 2017 at 11:33 PM UTC
January 5th, 2016.
Five in the morning.
Red eyes caused by being up since
four (am) the day prior.
He stands in Winnipeg airport
staring off at all the people.
"None of them are boring,"
his brain tells itself,
"They are all exquisite stories..
sitting upon their own personal shelves,
waiting to be opened."
Be wary, my friends.
Many of those who would like to read you,
will only leave you with
a cracked & creased spine.
His trance,
broken, as a hand taps his shoulder.
His sister,
ready to board her flight.
He says,
"Travel safe, good night."
With that,
back to the parking lot..
Back to solitude.
Back to his thoughts of you.
Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 11:27 PM UTC