Thursday, June 25, 2015

Last Round

Gotta take number two,
No, it's not what you think,
This is a diff'rent kind of production,
Of which I'm on the brink,

Number one had been before my mom died,
She missed them at the time,
But, had to focus on the task at hand,
So I embraced prose and discarded rhyme,

And this will be the last time on this book,
There is no choice on that,
If it takes more than this for ev'ry one,
I'll have to hang my hat.

There's more in me,
So, if this ain't the tap,
To expel it out and share with the world,
I'll take up painting or some other crap.

Wednesday, June 24, 2015

Crime Scene

So you're from Kanata,
I could tell by your shirt,
North forty-five and west seventy-five,
Does that mean you're a jerk?

Don't mean you can get a breakfast sandwich,
Heated three times over,
Pocket the Naked juice when no one sees,
Then say sorry to the Starbucks worker.

Like who get's Starbucks breakfast sandwiches?
Okay, I did one time,
But it was free and I learned my lesson,
Looking back, I'd written lack-luster rhymes.

I shouldn't speak,
In fact, I rarely do,
Like now as I watch the bobbing bottle,
Poking out the overalls of that dude.

Tuesday, June 23, 2015

What She Said

Look at something far 'way,
Where things between are hid,
Imagine yourself there and then forget,
As if you never did,

Then live your life as if nothing has changed,
Or nothing ever will,
One day you will find yourself where you looked,
Independent of plans or conscious will,

That's a secret taught me by someone wise,
Who I could never doubt,
That's why they say, 'careful what you wish for',
Dreams actually turn out,

And this is why:
You can only e'er go,
To places that actu-ally exist,
And not nothing that you didn't first know.

Monday, June 22, 2015

Once Again

Sometimes you just must do,
As if everything's fresh,
Like the hours and hours put in never were,
You are now a fine mesh,

Able to let things go quite easily,
If their size is too small,
You are looking for the big fish only,
The others you'll catch on another haul,

When they too are grown and make a good meal,
Which is what you wish for,
That others may share and taste the same meat,
That is the stuff of lore,
And repeat guests,
The debut's the hardest,
A thousand failures are e'er forgiven,
If the first attempt is the tastiest.

Sunday, June 21, 2015

You Hear That?

What do you want to hear?
That you will be OK,
That the world is exactly as it seems,
That folks mean what they say,

That science has everything figured out,
That it will save us all,
That the next government will erase greed,
That has plagued humankind since the first fall,

That nothing by will turn out except as planned,
That first day of grade school,
That taught you the dream that everyone shares,
That you'd shirk, if a fool.
That everything?
Then I'll shut my mouth now,
Words are the sole things that can't disappoint,
So long as they're not followed up by 'how?'.

Saturday, June 20, 2015

The Travesty

Not sure I've covered this,
A point of great tension,
E'en if this is the tenth Wath about it,
You should pay attention,

If you order a Boston Cream donut,
I'm not saying from where,
You need to insist it's put in a box,
Unless you don't care if it comes out bare,

If the choc'late sticks to the bag's inside,
Haphazardly thrown in,
Probably handed to you upside down,
Not e'en a prayer given,
That it should live,
To rest in waiting gut,
In the state it was designed to be in,
An insult to both eater and donut.

Thursday, June 18, 2015

Good-Bye Napkin

Good-bye crumpled napkin,
We were so close just now,
I trusted you to hold my Boston Cream,
The most sacred allowed,

Even when the cream itself oozed out slow,
I did not fret or sweat,
I'd lick it off your rough, yet soggy, skin,
Though I know nothing 'bout you 'fore we met,

P'haps after I throw you into the bin,
And you are carried off,
To join the billions of others like you,
All fallen from great lofts,
You'll live again,
Recycled, napkin again,
Would I know you if we should meet again,
As I dab you against my mouth's moist skin?

Wednesday, June 17, 2015

Getting Along

Ain't no wrong with thinking,
Beats beating people up,
And you can do it while feeding yourself,
Like Folgers in your cup,

Then drink that coffee, like drinking a brain,
Cracked fresh from a child's head,
An image removed from the meek thinker,
But close to the manic search she has led,

Salivating to solve the mystery,
Of why we're here at all,
A question each human must struggle with,
While building up the walls,

To protect them,
From the ire of others,
So bent on proving they figured it out,
They want all the other thinkers smothered.

Sunday, June 14, 2015

throw away

Feel like a new person,
I just got my haircut,
Left it long on top so I can comb back,
Tapered, not under-cut,

Asked to keep it natural on the back,
Don't like it all squared up,
Straight blade for the neck and around the ears,
Reminds me of when Alfie'd e'er draw blood,

He put in product for the apprentice,
Knowing I'd wash it out,
So he could see how it looked on the sides,
Learning what it's about,
I left a tip,
And that's the whole story,
Suddenly I'm surrounded by loud kids,
Now all I can rhyme is the word sorry.

Friday, June 12, 2015

Time To Work

This is just to do it,
My heart's left at the door,
Bile is resting, bottom of my throat,
Saying, 'don't talk no more'.

The hammock's calling me to meditate,
The air's stuffy in here,
Trying to remember the day of the week,
Remembering that I'll never see her,

The trees that are towering behind me,
Planted when I was young,
Inhaled her breath to keep themselves alive,
Are pining for her lungs,

And her laugh, too,
'Cause that shoots out more breath,
And if you were judged by exhalation,
She would tower high above all the rest.

Wednesday, June 10, 2015

The Breeze

The breeze's playing music,
As my mother once wrote,<
Lying now upon a bed in a room,
Where I hope she hears notes,

Through the window not quite open enough,
To be caressed by the wind,
Though sure the birds huddled 'round the feeder,
Take her home washed of all and any sin,

Which only she'd know 'bout 'cause I've ne'er seen,
An act not fuelled by love,
'least no malice for all as it should be,
Per th'universe above.
That's how she thought,
Sorry, that's how she thinks,
Her strength lies in her own nat'ral beliefs,
Stalwart and pure right up to the nth brink. 

Monday, June 08, 2015

Look At That

Can you look at nothing?
That's a tricky question,
First we have to agree what 'looking' means,
Let's say it's what you receive through the lens.

>So, de facto, nothing can't be looked at,
But what about past that?
If the brain don't acknowledge the input?
Then I guess there is nothing to look at.

But 'nothing' is a trickier notion,
Lost as soon as it's found,
When someone asks, 'what fuck you looking at?'
'Naught''s the answer of clowns,
Liars, scared cats,
Not those truly living,
So accept your lot that we all feel life,
Stop asking if one can look at nothing. 

Sunday, June 07, 2015

Inside There

I don't know what to say,
And it has been so long,
It is like letting a part of me die,
When I don't write this song,

E'en if I lose all of my limbs, I hope,
There's still 'nough of me left,
To put what's in my mind out to the world,
Better than all of me dying, I guess,

Even if my world becomes just my mind,
'Just' is a funny word,
There will still be 'me' and that which I 'see',
To make myself be heard,
Like all the birds,
Nesting in dad's carport,
I can live quite a happy existence,
Knowing the space in which I may comport.

Wednesday, June 03, 2015

Just One Time

I don't know what to do,
Sorry it's about me,
Though I guess it's a sentiment common,
To the majority,

Thrown into life, parents if you're lucky,
Thrown into it themselves,
Without the ben'fit of special knowledge,
Just the same unchanging self-help packed shelves,

Telling you to listen to your insides,
But that's not easy, too,
For, for everything you would rather do,
There's 'nother force on you,

From the outside,
Where you're trying to live,
It's a balance, staying true to your heart,
When everything you do's cumulative.

Tuesday, June 02, 2015

Get It?

You want to say something,
Meant to alter the world,
'Cause somehow you know something no one's known,
Since Eve's fingers uncurled,

You have the magic phrase that spans all tongues,
Touching everyone's heart,
So all meet at the junction where god's born,
Before she grows up, grows some balls and parts,

Then, somehow, no one will forget that spot,
Where we are all the same,
Which is what has always been the next step,
Once we stop being babes,

Which we do not,
Thought about in this way,
'Spite all of us knowing we're all human,
We act like we were born planets away.

Monday, June 01, 2015

What Will You See?

I wonder what you'd say,
If you saw what I see.
Because it's your mind, would you see the same,
As if you weren't me,

Or would you be suffused with my being,
No diff'rent than I am,
With no way of rememb'ring what you saw,
Once you've returned to your constitution?

Will your exper'ence be enough to know,
All humans are unique,
That all views of the world are legit'mate,
No matter what they seek?

Or will you learn,
That we are all the same,
Like various models of cameras?
The picture's equal with a common aim.