Friday, March 31, 2017


There is a way I am,
What I show to the world,
No time for the thing that I am doing,
Still half mast. Yet unfurled.

There is the next thing on the horizon,
What this here had once been,
That since shown itself to be something else,
It was different than what I had seen,

Then there is what I hope I'll never lose,
As it just slips away,
Thank god we don't know what tomorrow brings,
I'd not get through the day!
But I'm still here,
Hope doth spring eternal,
That's what I say in the face of the guilt,
Born of the thought I've made life personal.

Thursday, March 30, 2017


There is someone out there,
Who knows everything,
Who's given the responsibility,
Of the monitoring,

Of knowing who is watching who and when,
Where that info's going,
What is being done with it and by whom,
Making sure it's their own lawns they're mowing,

Knowing who else is out there pushing in,
To steal identities,
Whoever it is will throw arms in th'air,
With great humility,
It is too late,
'Less you're e'er off the grid,
Or who you're isn't married to the cloud,
There is no control that can be undid.

Wednesday, March 29, 2017

Holding It In

Trying to keep it in,
Ain't all that difficult,
Your body has a natural spigot,
Controlled by shame and guilt,

Reluctant to display what is common,
Ne'er mind the stinky mess,
The looks of disdain and disparagement,
As if there's something wrong with humaness,

Because we are all, already, removed,
Due to technology,
A new world with new possibilities,
Unthink'ble formerly,
Yet, here we are,
Dealing with all this shit,
There is no valve that is yet invented,
It's our nature to make 'fore planning it.

Tuesday, March 28, 2017

Dangerous times

 Driving while you were writing,
 Who knew could be done?
First you would need a car,then voice to text,
 Oh,  and a concussion,

Or some other kind of head injury,
'Cause  you're on the highway,
e'en  10 years ago it couldn't be done, you,
Without your friend writing down what you say,

But I don't have any to help me now,
That well's almost run dry,
Now at 130 clicks per hour,
This bed is where I live,

The one I made,
From scratch, with my own hands,
Perhaps it will lead me to find my dreams,
Still more innovation in this new.

Monday, March 27, 2017

The Old Box

Things that were so precious,
Kept in boxes for years,
With words so earnest, forthright, and naive,
Paper crinkled from tears,

Hardly able to recall how it was,
Or was it really you?
But if it wasn't then who are you now,
And will you someday be somebody new?

So you put it all back into the box,
Burn it in the fire,
If you can't replicate who you had been,
Then you are on that pyre,
Ash on your heart,
Spread there more than one time,
You keep on changing, yet you never do,
'Cause you keep feeding yourself the same line.

Sunday, March 26, 2017

The Wariers

Who is the artist, here,
Grabbing shoulders with glee,
Reflecting on all that's already done,
By contemporaries,

In a language I've always understood,
Wond'ring, is that enough?
Have they found each other through the labyrinth,
Or are they woven together by love,

Part of a fabric that need not be cut,
To make your way through it,
Rather, there is room to attach yourself,
S'hot you melt like suet?

You become one,
The more the merrier,
May all living in the world be artists,
Then may there no longer be wariers.

Saturday, March 25, 2017

The Implications Of The Uncertainty Of Life

Have you ever been safe?
Among those on the street,
Eyeing you for what you have, who you are,
That might make them complete,

In malls, coffee shops, and public buildings,
Open to bombs and trucks,
Sitting down in front of your computer,
No one is watching you, with any luck,

As a child, at the mercy of your dad,
Some people have no hope,
The flutter of your heart from plaque, not love,
Tragedy you can't cope,
All of these things,
Only you know what more,
One minute you're here and the next you're gone,
Never mind not knowing what it's all for.

Friday, March 24, 2017


For real, it is no joke,
Feel like screaming out loud,
If it didn't make me look like a dick,
Given all life's allowed,

Relative safety of country and skin,
Let's not forget my sex,
Relative wealth, though like most I'm in debt,
Relatives who will support what comes next,

For now, I have got all my limbs working,
Not bad looking, to boot,
No major illnesses I'm aware of,
Just sent a tweet to Moot,
But tomorrow,
I'm afraid what it brings,
Like every other dick in the world,
Who cannot just count his fucking blessings.

Thursday, March 23, 2017

Happy Where You Are

'Less you're moving forward,
You are going no place,
'Course, if you are happy with where that is,
Then turn away your face,

Why would you be reading this anyway?
'Cept, that this gives you joy!
Now my mind is blown, is it possible,
Poetry's not just for the sad and coy,

That a life well-lived can self-reflect, too,
Step out its reverie?
Or is it more that the mind can't avoid,
One's own lack of money?
And there it is,
Though some say it's needed,
I wouldn't miss that dirty currency,
That leaves all forms of freedom impeded.

Wednesday, March 22, 2017

Happy Belated

Oh god, the irony,
When will things go my way?
I write one of these near ev'ry morning,
But miss World Po'try day,

Don't e'en know what it was I would've wrote,
Life's been such a bollocks,
A car teetering on its two side wheels,
'Twixt a wide avenue and jagged rocks,

Towards a horizon of untold wealth,
'Bout the size of thin air,
Likely to bring me no greater comfort,
E'en if I make it there,
You're who you are,
Even if you should change,
That's only adaption to surroundings,
To cope with shit the best you can arrange.

Monday, March 20, 2017

Penning It

If you do one thing right,
In a consistent way,
Love it, care for it and make it your dreams,
For as long as you play,

Plunge yourself in it like it's all there is,
Then, when you must leave it for other things,
There will be a diff'rent sheen to your eyes,

Everything else will appear brighter,
Isn't that all our goal?
That then leads to a transference of light,
That resides in the soul,
Then the mundane,
That which you don't care for,
Becomes the best version of what it is,
Until there's no room for fear, anymore.

Sunday, March 19, 2017


There is a pattern, here,
Don't matter how it came,
It can remain a mystery of life,
As long as it's not named,

For then we are dealing with other things,
Like where did it come from,
Much different from how can it teach us,
How to determine the right direction,

Like the two tattoos on that cashier's arms,
Love the life that you live,
Then, live the life that you love on th'other,
That's good advice to give.
Don't get me wrong,
Very hard to follow,
A constant effort forever challenged,
Makes it hard not to give up and wallow.

Saturday, March 18, 2017


Smell's a little different,
Musty cold, underground,
Still it is far more decent of a sight,
Than nothing at all found,

The bitterness of true frigidity,
Without no protection,
You're passed by as if you do not exist,
Actu'lly a fair determination,

It's better that this six feet underground,
Hasn't been filled with dirt,
There is so much that I have yet to do,
Death cannot even flirt,
It's stay or go,
There is no in between,
Not that things couldn't go on anyway,
Or that once gone you would miss anything.

Friday, March 17, 2017


You're who you want to be,
E'en if you don't act so,
E'en if you're far from the best you can be,
With no hint that you'll go,

The leaves of the trees may fall to the ground,
You shouldn't be surprised,
No one will pick them, put them away,
Nor sweep away winter's coldness and ice,

Hate will not leave the world this next decade,
Hope good always prevails,
There are two people in everyone,
May the bad one e'er fail,
Like you and I,
Ev'ryone of our ilk,
Success does not always mean succeeding,
Tears need not always come after spilled milk.

Thursday, March 16, 2017

The Haze

In the final minutes,
Before all light is gone,
The chill spreading slowly throughout your bones,
You're ready for so long,

Death is upon you, you're body is weak,
Systems not working right,
You want to lie down 'til this life passes,
But you fail to even with all your might,

Words escape you, there is nothing to say,
Except, please, please help me,
Rather you starve in your spot on your bed,
Than strive for victory,
Better you die,
Let nature take its course,
The world was not meant for the likes of you,
Your existence will fill it with remorse.

Wednesday, March 15, 2017

Before Midnight

I am a little late,
But, better than never,
There are not enough hours in the day,
T'avoid good things severed,

Sitting in a room, told you've been abused,
Where would you like to go?
No one is feeling AAanything better,
Because that's not the room's ultimate goal,

It's all about being what you should be,
Given what you're good at,
If you cannot find a matching career,
The system will give that,
I'm not lying,
It's already been said,
There are forces in place to keep us down,
We must make sure they are lifted, instead.

Tuesday, March 14, 2017

Forget It

Times you can't remember,
The most important things,
Forged in the fires of your intimate self,
All while you were sleeping,

They're embedded in the cells of your brain,
As a snapshot in time,
Though they may ne'er be in that state again,
Like the pattern of a splatter of rain,

But the impression e'er will be there,
E'en the shift of a cell,
Guiding your thoughts like water in a groove,
Or like bone by muscle,
Never the same,
Until the next dreams come,
Still, they will not erase what came before,
They can only build on their impression.

Monday, March 13, 2017


There is a term for it,
That tingly spine rapture,
Back-of-the-head adrenaline flushing,
It is ASMR,

There's no end to the triggers existing,
But you must let them in,
Soft, sibilant sounds shushing in your ear,
Why'd you search for more than this elation?

It's there for a reason, like your stomach,
It has just starved to death,
But what you killed can come to life again,
It will e'er have soul left,
It's what makes you,
Connects you to the source,
Let the euphoria wash away gloom,
All the good things for you will run their course.

Sunday, March 12, 2017

Health Care

Don't know much about it,
I mean, I have healthcare,
The notion of being sick without help,
Is more than I could bear,

I wouldn't want to rely on my mom,
Anointing me with oil,
Praying to god to heal my little boy,
Because my country just isn't loyal

To origin of itself, at all,
That individuals,
Can become stronger by living as one,
Without erecting walls,
By supporting,
Make the weak as the strong,
The strong sharing strength for the better good,
Other systems should be considered wrong.

Friday, March 10, 2017


It's all about surprise,
That is what you live for,
Everything else is just getting by,
Striving for something more,

But the moment you can't believe it's true,
No matter what it is,
Time stops, magic happens, and the smile comes,
Your heart swells and becomes voluptuous,

Nothing exists that had just saddened you,
It's all a memory,
Until the surprise slowly fades away,
Back to the old story,
Of pain and hate,
Disappointment and fear,
Seeking the coming of the next surprise,
Wishing to god that you just weren't here.

Thursday, March 09, 2017


A day's just a minute,
A minute's outside time,
In fifty years you'll look back on your life,
What do you think you'll find?

Will you have foreseen ev'ry obstacle,
Chosen the correct path,
Left all the people that cared about you,
Believing you did the best one could ask,

Made the world better than you first found it,
Even a smidgen's worth,
Figured out just what it was all about,
Other than death and birth?
Or anything?
Hello, what's it all for?
Don't spend too much time figuring it out,
Or there won't be any left to do more.

Wednesday, March 08, 2017

Toe Dreams

My big toes are like Fred's,
Like Flintsone from Bedrock,
They give my steps confidence and balance,
Performing in a sock,

I could stare at their perfect form for hours,
In fact, I've done just that,
God, if I was only more flexible,
I'd perform the most inappropr'ate act,

But alas, so close yet so far away,
Like all things one desires,
Like if I were to have my way with them,
They'd never quench my fire,
Best they stay there,
As cravings, nothing more,
We all need that thing that's just out of reach,
To appreciate all that's just next door.

Tuesday, March 07, 2017

Hair Up

Don't matter when you're glad,
The sun is always out,
Deep down in a cave, damp, filled with shit smells,
Living on sauerkraut,

No friends to tell you're in the right place,
That luck's around the bend,
You don't need it when joy is your fallback,
Circumstances mean nothing in the end,

Light can still fill you and pour out your soul,
I'm feeling it right now,
The right place can be anywhere you are,
If you are so endowed,
And you can be,
It's naught to do with how,
You're alive, which is more than most can say,
They're still mired in what they think the earth vowed.

Monday, March 06, 2017

Tearing Away

Sometimes you can be sad,
A haze hugging your form,
Painting your world like a distant landscape,
Viewed from a raging storm,

No point reaching through until the smoke's cleared,
It's not you, anyway,
Best to crouch down, hug your head, shut your eyes,
Hope tomorrow brings you a better day,

That there is warmth to burn away the mist,
Like a damn miracle,
Light shining on an horizon of hope,
Wish for an oracle,
E'en a fairy,
Only magic will save,
But when it does, my god, what a feeling,
Walking towards the sun from Plato's cave.

Sunday, March 05, 2017

Very Superstitious

I just looked at the clock,
The time's one, one, one, one,
Mom e'er said matching numbers are good luck,
A small superstition,

But one that has stuck with me all these years,
Not that I believe it,
It's not that I don't believe it, either,
It's just that since she's died, I can't leave it,

It reminds me of her when I see it,
And that makes me happy,
If that joy leads me to do something good,
Then that's good luck for me,
It's like roses,
When you stop to smell them,
If a little thing helps you find yourself,
You should let it, 'cause that happens seldom.

Saturday, March 04, 2017

Gotta Go

I really have to pee,
He thought as he stood there,
Nothing keeping him from going away,
Except he wouldn't dare,

The stakes are too high to succumb to that,
That which he can control,
It may damage his bladder ever more,
But worse, a seven might be his next roll,

Really, what damage could he succumb to,
That money wouldn't fix?
As he tries not to shake his fist too hard,
Lest he unplug his dick,
But even then,
What's a small accident?
People will forgive the most heinous acts,
If there's possibly some money in it.

Friday, March 03, 2017

RIP Winston

When I first met Winston,
Wow, eighteen years ago,
At the film festival, me a driver,
Just new to Toronto,

I'd pop into the office on Carlton,
Stop by to say hello,
He'd stand from his desk of fifty folders,
Then we'd go to the garage for a smoke,

We would talk steady in that ten minutes,
Life, dreams and anecdotes,
The cigarette was only a pretense,
The head rush hit my soul,
I never quit,
Even if months had flown,
We would meet for a beer at some Firkin,
Getting high on the discussion, alone.

Thursday, March 02, 2017

The Light Outside

There're moving lights all 'round,
Life happening outdoors,
More change in the short time we've been on earth,
Than millennia 'fore,

A reflection of nature at its worst?
That's really hard to say,
What is nature? What is bad? Who's to judge?
Would it have acted any other way?

Would it have had more respect for itself?
Like leave its trees alone,
Not kill anything or eradicate,
An entire nation's home?
What about you?
Tell me which you reflect?
The hubris, envy and lust of humans,
Or the indifference of our architect?

Wednesday, March 01, 2017

To The Depths

The road's sucked up the rain,
Even though it's asphalt,
Commuters look at me emotionless,
As if it was my fault.

The water's seeking the easiest route,
Just like the rest of us,
Drawn natur'lly to the core of the earth,
Our desire to reach great heights spurious,

We're only seeking release from this earth,
T'arrive at a new low,
The rain has tried that a million times,
To be sucked back below,
What's wrong with that,
To return to one's core?
It's the simplest form of all that there is,
Yet, each and ev'ry one of us wants more.