Each word only spoke to who I used to be
Hitting me with sadness I hadn’t felt in so long
Memory, an idle passtime we cannot live without
Like each deep line slowly growing across my body
And each sun setting beyond the upper field
Pink and golden and blue as it be
A feather of mine that once flew me
In wind I now see as ghosts
Of who I used to be.
Category: lost
Locus on my Mind
A locus on my mind;
Two dollars and fifty cents
While driving slowly in the right hand lane
Looking for a parking spot
And Grimes on the radio
Flapping wings of technicolour
Written cleanly upon the sidewalk
I am not walking upon.
Heaven yoked my thoughts;
A golden beam of sunshine
Misdirected through bubbling clouds
That cannot share my thoughts
For they speak only in winds
I cannot hear or see
Only feel upon my frowning brow
Searching for and watching
Fleeting moments of sun.
An opening emerges;
Calling with my well-let whistle
I walk alone through a quiet wooded path
Unsure but hoping
For a path to emerge
Amidst low hanging spruce branches
But weakness in my knees
Tell me that I’ve missed my chance
So I must forget the way home
And keep my eyes open wide.
Shelter
I guess I’ve been building
– Don’t call it by name –
A shelter to put my hat up
And a bed to lay down
Though I’ve never been a gambler
S’been too many bad cuts
And my pencil’s getting short
Like a tape stuck on 2
I hear music when I close my eyes
A slow drawl like I’m shaking coins
And waiting on time to bring me
Out of a late December
What makes a man stay home?
Tired too deep that keeps him in bed
Motioning slowly for a cold glass of milk
To cut out invisible pain
Don’t be running along today
Brown eyed Susan
It’s not a good day for a race
To go along for some fun
I guess some music
– Though not too loud –
Would be where I could go
To shelter me as I close my eyes down
Dungeon Boulders
Surely this is a swolen gland of memory
Cursing through my body
Pinching where I’ve been hurt before.
Should I starve you out?
Let you waste away like autumn flowers
Suffocating upon the bed you’ve made?
A cry from depths of my unconscious being
Let out like lightning bolts
Surging through my veins in callous blood clotting.
I hold the reigns, but I do not have this beast tamed,
Wild and friggart he still is
An uncouth I have yet to name.
I shall sweat you out
Heat driving mad, boiling away impurities
With a flame I have stoked ever higher
Designed to inhibit boulders
That this dungeon was built upon.
Yesterday
I thought I remembered you yesterday
Then I woke and you weren’t on my mind
In my fury I swallowed hard
Thinking of all the time I spent
Without your sweet smell beside myself
I wasn’t hungry like I told you so
But my trigger was a lofty chance
So I left you and your sideways glance
To find peace amongst the trees.
So and so it was again
So it came and so it went
So I heard your voice nevermore
So cold winter sprung away
So a warm wind blew my way
So I loved the place I stay
So I left you yesterday.
Secrets
Tell me your secrets today.
It’s raining outside
Like my wishes have gone.
I don’t want sadness much more
So I can sleep in the night
Without dreaming in symbols
Of the dreams I still have.
Tell me your secrets tonight
When I’ve had my dessert
I’ll sit listening intently
Awaiting heat to emanate
Through bones in my skin
Wrinkles and sin
Two ice cubes and you.
No more secrets my dear
It’s a sadness I cannot bear.
Your voice is too soft
My thoughts too far.
My cello keeps drawing lines
Upon the back of my neck.
Will you write me a new song
So I can sing out the last?
My heart keeps trembling
And my eyes keep closing.
Broken Veins
What road did I drive down again?
Path of dusty broken veins
Weed choked by falling road dust
Dry season on two wheels
And a gooseneck straddling dotted lines
About a ribbon I’ve tied across my finger
To remember a mannequin I fell in love with.
Holy I went left!
I took my squirrels medium rare
And left my lover there
Amongst rocks as ocean’s edge
To watch whatever growing storm
Should scarcely hide away her tears.
In my pack I tried to hold
Every essential piece of gold
I locked it up, taped it down,
Bound it to my back with straps
That crossed my chest and held my gear
As wind swept across my beard
Reminding me though I may fly
I’m still so gnarled and twined
As river’s edge a weeping willow
Set about my fate.
It Hurt
Today’s coffee reminds me of the day
I ripped a six inch long
one inch deep hole into
the back of my leg.
Thirteen years old,
maybe I was fourteen
at my best friends father’s shop
he worked a lot with cement
and had a big yard
with mounds of gravel
we’d go up and down and around
on our new single track bikes.
It hurt
it hurts
and memories are always there
to bring me away
and back
to where some memories hurt
but ripping the hole
didn’t really hurt
flesh wounds are like that.
Slowly into Tea
I wish I could cry on the good days
when my tea is softly spoken
and each of my windows
have snow lightly dancing,
exploring my imagination
in waxing crescent arising.
So it’s said my moon is slowly rising
a wind about my sail
to calm me as I build up to
a moment of my truth.
Where do I sing from?
No microphone or recorder
follows me around
making what shall soon become
lost in a myriad of webs.
Perhaps my days are all of good;
tea awaits my silent lips
even when the sun has risen cold
and my time spent entranced in forest
are met with caribou and grouse.
So maybe the I shall speak a little,
whistle a little to my tune
that whispers it’s short breath inside
each window I look out upon
and lays my ever waxing moon
into swirl of my tea leaves
where my moment comes just as the last
a fragment to be had and gone.
Sound/Vision
Who are you?
What is your sound/vision?
What guides your call?
Deep gulps of morning coffee
Flickering sounds
An empty wall
With little splash marks
Years of service gone by.
This pen fades
The more I write,
Like fallen leaves
Into enrichened soil
Rhythms have lost my voice
Telling me of better days.