The Leafs Eliminated

My son's fin'lly alive,
For playoffs with the Leafs,
Something that was common as I grew up,
Salming, Gilmour, Sundin.

And what a story they wrote for themselves!
Coming back from three-one,
To a game seven where they're up three goals,
With ten minutes left in regulation.

The two of us lived in a ree'lity,
Of the Leafs in round two,
My son went to bed before overtime,
To learn that reality can be skewed.

It's a small thing,
A team being knocked out,
But still a memory embedded in,
A mind still learning what life is about.

If You're Not Alive

If you don't have something,
To help you stop and think,
To know what you'd hold most dear in this life,
If you had anything,

If you've had no thoughts of why you are here,
That is hard to believe,
Struck by the fact that you exist at all,
In those moments without a sound or screen,

If you have never strayed from living for,
Those things that keep you live,
'Cause you've not been given an easy life,
Or been given the time.

If this is true,
Let me help you live, now,
Let me take some of your burdens from you,
So you can see the truth life allows.

Why Steal The Truck?

It's a great conundrum,
With someone like Millard,
Someone you'd think has everything he'd need,
To live well in this world,

And of course everyone who has known him,
Says he's a normal kid,
With tons of cash and opportunity,
If he did, why did he do what he did?

But we all have in us another one,
Whose place is under wraps,
Venting the dark desires we ought not,
Explore within life's gaps,

Those gaps are for,
Figuring what to do,
To make this world a safer, better place,
So everyone can have what they need, too.

A Taxing Issue

Where does Mayor Ford think,
Money's come from 'til now?
Taxes are how govs get their revenue,
Not some sneaky cash cow.

If you want to choose the transit option,
Costing three times light rail,
And pay for it by tightening your belt,
It's good we've started with such a large male.

Of course now we have all come full circle,
After spending tax funds,
On consultants and debates and of course,
Lots of pulling of plugs.

Where're we getting?
So far, not very far.
I've taken the TTC once this year,
'Cause I spent all but three bucks at the bar.

Jets Over The Water

It's really difficult,
To see which side will fly,
NoJetsTO is def'nitely NIMBY,
'Gainst Porter's bottom line.

If you've flown Porter, you have to agree,
They really deserve to,
Expand that runway to expand their reach,
And jet to places exciting and new,

But yet its affect on the Waterfront,
Already a sore spot,
Is greater than a thousand new condos,
Just fifty per cent bought,

Because water,
Represents our freedom,
Do we keep the landscape of that jewel,
Or make it something that we just fly from?

To Live Is To Rebel

Want to make a diff'rence?
I'll tell you how you can.
Don't worry about hurting the feelings,
Of strangers, friends and fam.

Ev'ry example in know history,
Of someone showing us,
That there can be an improvement to things,
Starts with that person being rebellious,

Which is the story of every change,
In or out all of you,
It is also what makes you a human,
Yet only shared by few.

And this world's not,
Meant for a minor'ty,
The most good for the most sharing the land,
Is the benchmark for all societies.

Before It's Too Late

If you do not watch out,
You'll end up really old,
Looking back on your one and only life,
Not calling yourself bold.

Don't do away with all of the cliches,
They're telling you something,
That you don't have the time to think about,
Amidst all of this survival living.

You actually only get one chance,
At making who you are,
A process that continues throughout life,
A journey that's not far.

But, who am I,
To comment on one's dreams?
I've not yet found myself on my death bed,
And ends of roads are never what they seem.

Stay In Line

What's gotten into you?
I'd really like to know.
It's like everything you've been taught in life's,
Been thrown out the window,

Like working hard is the only way to,
Gain success on this earth,
Instead, you think by doing what you like,
All will be granted by the universe,

Like you must sacrifice to contribute,
To the system we're in,
Instead, you challenge the way we do things,
Like they're not ev'lution.

Well, you will see,
It's taken years to build,
The best of worlds, this democracy,
For which countless millions have been killed.

Change

The worst part about change,
Is the wholly unknown,
Which is ironic'lly what makes our lives,
Worth the mirrors and smoke,

And yet we raise ev'ry generation,
To stabilize the world,
To accept what's been built and what you have,
A mandate more of the established rule.

Dissension's  punished more than rewarded,
Unless in the context,
Of the framework that we have been given,
And not of a world next.

So what to do,
When your heart is screaming,
That the right way to live is different,
Than the current world you're in is seeming?

One Day

The seed is in the ground,
Waiting to be watered,
Patiently as my mind ruminates on,
The best way to solder,

The message I believe must be there,
With some way to express,
So at the end I can look at my work,
Finally feeling true contentedness,

And yes it's about working very hard,
All the successful do,
But they also live with an honesty,
The link 'tween me and you.

And so one day,
The switch will be turned on,
And the thoughts will flow out just as I want,
A belief for my own constitution.

Marathon Bombers

I must say that I cried,
Reading about Boston,
And how the bombers timed the explosion,
For last year's av'rage run,

I thought of friends and fam'ly standing there,
As time ground to a halt,
The realization washing over them,
Of this mad, uninstigated assault,

That must have been a long time in planning,
For at least two suspects,
Living for this one horrific moment,
Now one of them is dead.

And what's two's thoughts,
As he runs from the law,
Guaranteed never to be free again,
Just as he prob'ly hasn't been in thought?

Jane

Is it diversity,
That makes a great city,
With both a mix of race and income,
Business and family?

That's what some say the key to success is,
For it encourages,
Simultan'ous movement of diff'rent parts,
All vying to be victors of the age,

Which none can be for they all live as one,
In a community,
And what they build for themselves they build, too,
For everybody.

And that's the key,
To quash complacency:
Take what people are doing anyway,
And just repackage all that energy.

Why Can't We All Just Get Along?

What if everyone just,
Suddenly got along?
I don't think people've stopped to consider,
What poss'bly could go wrong,

We'd first have no need of authorities,
Who's job's to keep the peace,
What a mind trip to live our daily lives,
Without the ominous fear of police.

And what about politics? How'll we choose,
The caretakers of us,
Without accusations and attack ads,
That laud the injurious?

And then there's us,
Conflict seems to define,
The lion's share of our relationships,
It would just be weird if we were all fine.

Body and Mind

Socrates once lauded,
The benefits of mind,
But he also talked about the body,
Needed for the sublime,

For there is more to humans than what's seen,
There is what is felt,
Its source sprung from something beyond anything,
The mind could ever more dearly have held,

And that is why he always exercised,
Strong mind and strong body,
Are the keys to getting the most of life,
Than just from one of these.

So that is why,
My heart is beating fast,
I've exercised my mind and my body,
To make this joy of life that I have last.

Church

I went to church today,
I think it was Baptist,
They welcomed me with open arms and minds,
And a warm interest.

The band rocked the house with songs of worship,
Then the hat was passed 'round,
A pause to meet the person next to you,
The pastor asked where I'm usually found.

His sermon promoted humility,
See Philipp'ans two,
Jesus gave up his divine priv'leges,
Though he's better than you.

And all I thought,
Was, "That is good advice",
But I don't need to come here to be told,
That common sense was invented by Christ.

Dennis

You'll always be crazy,
That's what you are to me,
And if you want to talk about my thoughts,
You'll be kinda lonely,

But I know what you say's always sincere,
And dig how your mind works,
Your dedication to your expression,
Un'pologetic for being berserk,

You're always a pleasure to hang out with,
And our hist'ry's always,
A pleasant stage in my unfinished life,
I'll never throw away.

So go ahead,
Say what you want to me,
'Bout anything that you see written here,
With an equal level of honesty :)

Your Self

Just because you see me,
You should not trust your eyes,
Even when you're looking at your own self,
Everyone's clothed by lies,

A layer meant to protect ev'rything ,
That you hold close and dear,
Imagine baring it all to the world
Without true and justifiable fear,

Ev'ry thought you've had uncensored, naked,
I do wish that for you,
A soul so pure you couldn't help but awe.
You are among the few,

Who can will change,
And show people that, yes,
There is a way to have faith in others,
Though you'll never get a chance to, I guess.

Life's Dreamy Magic

I can't quite remember,
What I wanted to write,
But, like a dream it was once clear to me,
My mind has its own night,

In which it shows me all my mind holds dear,
Though it's hard to hold tight,
Long enough that I can show all of you,
The window onto my potion for light,

The light that shines on honesty and art,
You all know about that,
Glimpses caught midst responsibilities,
Hanging off us like fat,

That we'd all shed,
At the drop of a hat,
'Cause no matter how full life is with shit,
That it's magic's a universal fact.

Dreams Gone By

Everybody's aware,
Of the fleeting of time,
And watching one's dreams and goals disappear,
For hope of youth, they pine,

When responsibility meant nothing,
But fulfilling your heart,
Until society tricks you into,
Discarding desires to take on a part,

To maintain the system in which we live,
Unless you are lucky,
And are chosen to be an example,
One of very many,

Of dreams come true.
You can't live without hope,
If you are not at least given freedom,
A lux'ry that does not go past the vote.

North Korea's Move

Let's just pretend, maybe,
That North Korea's threats,
Are not meant to intimidate the South,
Or anger the US,

"We're not seeing large-scale mob'lisations",
A move they'd need to make,
Even the restart of their reactor,
Seems a stratagem for posturing`s sake,

Not that Kim Jong-un`s not crazy enough,
Though his hist`ry`s unknown,
Raised to be leader of a recluse state,
Your social skills ain't honed.

But to be fair,
He's prob'ly just trying,
To sell nation'lism to his people,
With the hope that they are still buying.

Happy Easter

Let's not even question,
The version of events,
That says that Jesus died upon the cross,
To wipe away all sins,

Let's not ask if he saved everyone,
Not just ones not yet dead,
But those that were born and died before him,
Vikings, Pharaohs, Lydians, let's pretend.

Don't worry if he brought back Lazarus,
Let's not think about that,
Was he god's and the holy spirit's son?
Who know's who is one's dad?

Let's not worry,
About the truth of these,
There's already too much to think about,
With all these choc'late eggs laid by bunnies.

The UN Drought Agreement

Don't know much about it,
Though it may seem to me,
That Canada pulled from an agreement,
That was necessary,

Especially since we started it all,
To help people in drought,
Through aid, research and world coop'ration,
And as a corollary, help ourselves.

Even if it wasn't run properly,
You don't pull from a pact,
Without giving friends a chance to fix it.
You just don't act like that.

And yes, who knows,
What goes behind closed doors,
But as far as us Canadians know,
Our gov'ment doesn't rep us anymore.

Report on Mayor Ford

No matter what you think,
'Bout our 'llustr'ous mayor,
You can't say he doesn't deflect focus,
From the deeper layers,

From public discourse about what we think,
Toronto should become,
Unless, I guess, you live outside the core.
I'm sounding like a leftist, pinko bum!

But really, what has Rob Ford actu'lly done,
'Cept pretend that the debt,
He fixed partly by raising prop'rty tax,
Wasn't something he set.

All his antics,
Fudging, drinking, gay flags,
Makes me harken for the days when mayors,
Were noted for doing their job in rags.

Winning Takes Care of Everything

Now that Woods is on top,
Nike's chosen to use,
His quote, "Winning takes care of everything",
In ads, and that's made news,

'Cause people think it's inappropriate,
Given Tiger's famed past,
"It's the wrong message to send to our youth,
That all's forgiven when you are the best."

But, who's still talking about what he's done,
Except to say he's back?
It seems to me that all Nike has done,
Is to express the fact,

That in this world,
You are much more ahead,
If you excel in a lauded talent,
Despite the unsavory life you've led.

How To Play With Your Kids

Here's the best way I've found,
To play with my two kids,
Arrange the scenario that you're in,
So you can stay in bed,

Like if they're jumping around on the bed,
You can encourage them,
By seeing if they can jump over you,
Until they've counted to a million.

Or if they want to play prince and princess,
Couldn't be easier,
You're the one who's fallen asleep until,
They pull the lost lever.

I love my kids,
Please don't misunderstand,
But if I can play with them and get rest,
I think we agree it is a grand slam!

Earth Hour

It's about awareness,
So you can stop saying,
"Turning the lights off an hour each year,
Does shit for anything."

It's about sitting in quiet darkness,
E'en for such a short time,
Talking, thinking or just cursing the thought,
Of living with no pow'r of any kind,

Of losing the connections we have built,
'Cross borders and oceans,
Because technology's not about ease,
But self-realization,

Through invention,
Which it affords us all,
Least those who can afford a computer,
With video editing software installed.

How To Tell A Story

When you tell a story,
All you can bring to it,
Is the understanding unique to you,
You're not just a condu't,

And of course those list'ning will filter, too,
That's unavoidable,
But the more honest you are when telling,
The less room there'll be to be malleable,

For when the message is straight and narrow,
You force others to see,
Through the eyes choosing what is seen for him,
Now telling the story.

But don't think hard,
About how this is done,
Thinking's got so little to do with it,
It's like a spontan'ous revolution!

All The Injustices

What does it really take,
To rouse the sleeping ones,
Whose dreams keep them snuggled safely in bed,
During the rev'lution,

Against the injustices clear to all,
Foisted 'pon earth and tribe?
I am sickened to tears by the stories,
Yet I still cannot seem to find the time.

Here's what the problem is, in a nutshell,
There's just too much to fight,
Systemic oppression of everyone,
It's hard to see the light,

Shine through the sludge,
Caked on our very souls,
It's hard enough affording to live life,
And who would fight this life except the poor?

The Ugly Canadian

There are many countries,
Like the United States,
That hold their companies accountable,
For actions of disgrace,

Executed in poor, foreign countries,
Like bribing and murder,
Discussed in The Ugly Canadian,
Written by activist Yves Engler,

Who notes that Steven Harper's government,
Doesn't much care 'bout that,
Forcing Congo to forgive Quantum First,
By unforgiving debt,

And voted down,
That Bill Three Hundred,
Attempting to force a code of conduct,
On the worst of these billion-dollar cruds.

The S.C.U.M. Manifesto

Since it has been proven,
That males are not needed,
For the continuation of humans,
Should their life be ceded?

They're 'incapable of sympathizing.'
They're ' 'tween humans and apes,'
They're actually lesser versions of women,
Generating all hate.

Well I know some men who do fit the bill,
Also some women, too,
It would be good to eradicate hate,
But let me think of who,

Maybe not men,
But something in us all,
A lover didn't write this man'festo,
'Nor did a lover shoot Andy Warhol.

Pope Francis the First

Card'nals' av'rage age,
Is a ripe sev'nty-two,
So to them seventy-six is not old,
Nor is it very new,

And, to be born in the nineteen forties,
Means that all flower childs,
Might seem a little out of touch with life,
For god never meant humans to be wild,

Not to say the old can't be progressive,
Caroline's nine-seven,
Fighting proudly for the rights of all kinds,
Next to her gay small one,

But this old church,
Was born an earlier time,
When they were oppressed for their words of love,
Forced by the old ones in power to hide.

Bunny Monroe

What is it you're doing,
Little mind with no heart,
Being led around as if real'ty,
Does not play any part,

As if the desires of your flesh and blood,
Exist within yourself,
With no connection to the outside world,
And its threats and risks to your mental health,

As if the loved ones dying around you,
Are doing it despite,
Your grand disregard for their well-being?
Why won't you just live right?!

You a lesson,
On risks of addiction,
The need to follow the Christian faith or,
The frailty of the human condition?

The Wedding Gift

Ev’rytime you discard,
Something into this bin,
Pressing gently on the broad foot pedal,
Resisting fingerprints,

The lid opens to show you other things,
You didn’t need also,
Think about what you choose to lose and keep,
In this world with more than you’ll ever know,

With its surprises you can’t easily,
Throw into the garbage,
But now you have the help of each other,
As you turn this new page,

On your union,
Just clean with a damp cloth,
And what you do not want will always shine,
On the desires of your hopes, dreams and thoughts.

The Labyrinth

Take me through your labyrinth,
I'm sure that it will lead,
Once I am through, to the most precious parts,
That I have ever seed,

Up a notch from where I usu'lly live,
That's what we all strive for,
Though most of us don't put the effort in,
To even recognize that secret door,

That leads to a world outside of this one,
Not a comforting place,
Where one must face one's deepest desires,
With an open embrace.

'And why', you ask,
'Bother going through this?'
Because when nothing's lost, nothing is gained,
And understanding life is worth the risk.

Love Across Worlds

What does it mean to love,
In a different world,
Where no one has lived as you were brought up?
There're differences for sure.

But wait!  Are there differences really?
People are different,
Whether they were conceived in the same womb,
Or were brought up on different planets.

And you may be thinking, "why waste this time?,
Stating the obvious?
If any two souls were ever the same,
Then so should all of us."

That's the key, right?
We want to be diff'rent.
Just as within ourselves we can converse,
With mysterious minds of diff'rent bents.

To Stompin' Tom

You had me at the line,
"boys are gettin' stinko",
You taught me so much about where I live,
And why to love it, so.

You were the investigative poet,
In residence for us,
From Wop May to the Hollinger Mines fires,
To Martin Hartwell's northern challenges.

At fifteen you hitched across Canada,
The same age I met you,
Learning 'bout Sudbury Saturday Nights,
And 'bout Bud the Spud, too.

So Stompin' Tom,
Thanks for all the good times,
You're an artist never to be forgot,
An inspiration, a one-of-a-kind.

Time for Everything

When you have the most time,
Is when you have the least,
And when I'm with you I've not time at all,
Because you're a time tease.

And I don't mind that all that very much,
How much time can we have?
Life is long and so are my dreams and hopes,
Just like the hints of a good life I gave,

Just like the dawn of a new day we saw,
With sand over our toes,
Just like the moment I looked in your eyes,
And saw- well, I don't know.

Well, time will tell,
There's more under the sun,
Than our time on earth allows us to know.
I'll take satisfaction.

Your Mark

You're just one of billions,
Now and what came before,
That you think what we do makes a difference,
Well, I just love you more.

I suppose you could point at a Jesus,
Though e'en he will become part of the past,
Unless the world ends now,
In which case not even the past will last,

And Jesus didn't live to see his boon-
Uhm, well how about Blake,
Considered insane by those who knew him,
Then his fame came too late.

So, what's the point?
It's about feeling good,
While you are alive in your little world,
And you can say that all be as it should.

Meant To Be

You're an individu'l,
With your very own thoughts,
Born of the world in which you found yourself,
With its own don'ts and oughts,

Born of a culture that's already there,
Born of circumstances,
Like hills, rain, drugs, and those that came before,
As key to who you are as one's hand is.

So as you lie there in a pool of blood,
Wond'ring how you got here,
The millions judging you through tel'vision,
Are convinced it's quite clear:

You'ere born for it,
Nothing could change your ways,
E'en though your fam'ly says you were a saint,
It was bound to happen one of these days.

Berlin Walls

When there is a city,
Robust and happening,
Gentrification's inevitable,
Yet always surprising,

With Berlin Walls of abandoned projects,
Protecting the new ones,
With a little money and willingness,
To live amidst the poor and construction.

They know it will only last for a while,
When at the other end,
They have more money and less Berlin Walls,
And more like-minded friends.

And what of those,
Who made way for the new?
Their lives are the same in a diff'rent place,
Like the lives of those who replaced them, too.

Elizabeth Warren

What was that that you asked?
What banks we've brought to court?
As regulators our hands are quite tied,
That's not what we're here for.

Financial institutions help us all,
They provide the structure,
That supports our very way of living,
The pursuit of happiness, true and pure.

We're there to fill in the natural hole,
Of dissatisfaction,
That forms when there is inequality,
And clear exploitation.

So, there you go,
You needed us to say,
What everyone knows but don't talk about,
Lest there's demand for more equit'ble ways.

Happy Valentines Day

Today's the day of love,
Whatever that might mean,
Generations have sought to define it,
Yet, it's never been seen,

It's yet to be proven that it exists,
Except for those who have,
But when they explain it to the others,
It's always sentimental and half-assed,

It's always mired in one's own feelings,
Which can't really be felt,
By the person reading words on a page.
For their heart to be melt,

They need real love,
Really, the goal of all,
For anyone trying to find meaning,
On this tiny, lonely, sad, mixed-up ball.

Ikea Blues

I know that Ikea,
Is just another store,
People and computers are not perfect,
Regardless of its lore,

Yet it surprises me eternally,
That I am missing parts,
Because now it's going to take me hours,
And it's breaking my heart,

This thing whose essence already exists,
Is denied existence,
If this is how god were to run his store,
This world would be a mess.

So here I sit,
Drowned in imperfection,
I may as well open a store myself,
If it only requires this precision.

Love's Distraction

How does one keep focused,
On what he has to do,
To keep doing what brings him the most joy,
When distracted by you?

You who puts road blocks at every turn,
Not that you really care,
It's just some unhappy humans' fate,
To prance so blissfully into your snare,

Like when you hoisted upon me your love,
The attention kept me,
From reaching love out to the world beyond,
The confines of that theme,

Which still worked out,
For who does not want love?
Even those who've only heard about it,
Know it as a blistery-cold day's glove.

Grow Up

You know what I'm thinking,
Everybody does,
Just block out the noise that this world creates,
This reality fuzz,

This background music, why did you do that,
She can't possibly mean what she's saying,
I'm hearing something more,
Coloured by my yen and lack of hearing,

This ulterior motive point of view,
A complicated world,
'Cause if you actually mean what you say,
Then you, poor thing, are fooled,

Into thinking,
That living can mean truth,
You just haven't grown out of the magic,
And eternal optimism of youth.

Mom

There IS magic in life,
You are the proof of it,
Living with faith that if you have the faith,
The un'verse will comment,

And why not?!  There's already, in our head,
A voice that's not our own,
As helpful as our other five senses,
And as missed if it should leave you alone.

How must you have felt, when the doctor said,
In fact, we think you're fine,
And you would be taking that poison now,
If you'd not asked for time.

You remind me,
Of my happiest days,
When I lived by faith in my instinct's goals,
When the outcome never failed to amaze.

Stepping Out

It is now or never,
That is always the case,
For if you don't move into where you want,
Someone will take your place.

Don't fret for all the people in the world,
There's also much to do,
So many different personalities,
There must be a circle made just for you,

Just like you fill a space within my heart.
No one else would quite fit,
Step inside and mull it over a while,
Until you're confident,

And can step out,
The way you were meant to.
I'll be there every step of the way,
To encourage, cheer, and to support you.

Cryogenics

I want to be frozen,
My intact cells preserved,
'Til they figure out how to rebuild me,
So that I can return,

To do all those things I had no chance to,
Because I didn't have,
The benefit of living a lifetime,
Like I'll have when I return from the grave,

And when I fuck up that existence, too,
Freeze me another time,
I'm bound to get it right eventu'lly,
Then I'll fin'lly be fine,

And then I'll die,
Once and for fucking all,
Why would I come back to do it again,
When there's no longer any obstacles?

These Nighttime Moments

The washing machine runs,
Clanging while the house sleeps,
It stops while I listen from on my bed,
After a midnight beat,

Got to fix the dripping in the damn rad,
God, will it ever cease?
The fixing, building, cleaning, purchasing,
I think, in the glow after my release,

If I don't turn this screen off, I'll go mad,
That's what the experts say,
But, between work, kids, sup and the laundry,
There's not much of a day,

You can speak of,
It's these nighttime moments,
You can really think about what you've got,
And about where everything else went.

When It's Time To Go

If you are all alone,
The world empty of friends,
Too much to clean up to do without help,
No hope of an entrance,

Of that person who doesn't have to think,
When buying you a gift.
It's nothing you've done in particular,
She only doesn't happen to exist.

So what does this life have to offer you?
You'll have to wait and see,
But still seek by exploring other worlds,
'Cause yours isn't working.

It is not right,
You don't need signs to know,
You have to scale that wall just once to get,
That there are endless places you can go.

The Bus

When you're taking the bus,
If you haven't before,
Remember no one takes it willingly,
Except as a good chore,

Like they want to save the environment,
Everything at a cost,
But for the most part, nobody's happy,
Riding this tired, slow, crowded, bumpy bus,

And who's to blame them?  Everbody's dream,
Should be to own a car,
Why else would they have built subdivisions,
'Cept to speed'ly get far?

That's what I want,
To get to you so fast,
I would ride this crappy thing everyday,
E'en if the fare hikes continue to last!

What To Say

How honest can you be,
Before what you express,
Misrepresents what you actu'lly think,
And turns ubiquitous,

Becoming gen'ral rules for everything,
Regardless of loved ones,
Seeming harsh to those looking for a sign,
That you're a living and breathing person,

While all you want to do is not to hide,
Because life is t0o short,
And your only guide is intuition,
The sense not to ignore?

Stick with your guns?
The only truth is you.
Can you actually die knowing that,
You lived a life free of personal truth?

While We're Apart

Life is quite very long,
Despite what the old say,
For they are living through their memories,
With no thought for today,

Which stretches like your hair across your form,
While we remain apart,
Yet, still not reaching through the laptop screen,
'Cept through the secret portal to my heart,

And I could stretch it even further, still,
With thoughts of the future,
And the endless moments still yet to come,
Of waiting- still torture.

But yet, some day,
When we are one again,
I'll probably feel a thousand years old,
For time does fly with the right companion!

Truly

Do what you want to do,
You only have one chance,
As do, too, the people around you,
Telling you how to dance.

You know how it feels to not be moving,
Exactly how you like,
To music not made for your temperament,
You could cut the awkwardness with a knife.

Yes, you have some responsibilities,
That limit your movements,
But limitation is different than,
Certain requirements.

So go ahead,
Be what you want to be.
You will be an envious example,
Amid all this fakeness and tom-fool'ry.

The Obstacles Before Us

Ev'ryone in their life,
Should Exper'ence sadness,
Not for loss of loved ones, but for what they,
Haven't accomplished, yet,

At which point, some will despair and give up,
Like they've done all their life,
For think of all the people in the world,
And the chances of getting what you like!

Then there's that Pegasus,
Persevering in the face of the odds,
Finding life in the bite,
By the gadfly sent by the very gods.

So which are you?
You know nothing's easy,
Even for those who were handed success,
After years of working tirelessly.

The Fever

I know that you're sick, now,
It is causing you to,
Think uncomfortable thoughts 'bout life,
And the things you think due,

Just 'cause the place you happened to be born,
Affords you to take time,
To feel guilt about the things that you have,
While others do not have a fucking dime.

So go vomit in that hotel toilet,
Writing it down won't help,
The chambermaid hired to clean it all up,
Regardless how it sells.

Though, it was good,
And it did make me think,
But art "does not change the life of the poor",
And neither, so you say, will anything.

True Revolution

Revolution mayn't be,
The best way to improve,
The injustices you're experiencing,
Because starting anew,

All the good policies already won,
Just through community,
And the natr'al ev'lution of humans,

Then's a waste of expended energy.

But the good things we have only arise,
If our leaders believe,
That we would revolt, if we do not feel,
We're getting what we need.

That is the key,
To true revolution,
Being willing to throw it all away,
If freedom's not given to everyone!

New Year's Evolution

One cannot let time pass,
Without marking moments,
Like any good story-teller will do,
To concoct importance,

Like this day of three hundred, sixty-five,
Which will start all again,
The lies and illusions you tell yourself,
In the interest of society's ends.

But this is just a step in human growth,
To higher consciousness,
When revolution will mean something more,
Than recast grievances.

It will mean love,
For all's evolution,
Imagine doing all your heart desires.
Expression with no restraints on freedom!

Butterfly Love

Butterflies're not immune,
To the dorsal tube's call,
For the connection to another one,
That will answer it all.

It lives through its stages, like we all do,
Survival on its mind,
Making sense where no real thought is required,
Until a new kind of problem it finds,

The type that threatens all its done so far,
As a poor replacement,
To the width that it could have spread its wings,
If it knew what life meant,

If it had loved,
The way butterflies can,
When they discover the unknown fifth stage,
Which we naively cherish as human.

Les Misérables

Oh, to be Jean Valjean,
There're people at this time,
Imprisoned by this very soci'ty,
For trying to survive,

Dogged by the law once 'caught',
Never given a chance,
A Javert for every cop division,
Ready to strike with lance.

Will the poor, here, rise up against these laws,
That denies most freedom?
They have tried, and they might yet try again,
Bubbles in a cauldron.

So be ready,
Eyes wide for Enjorlas,
What is a life if it's denied its rights?
How many lashes 'til you're furious?

What You've Done

The snow now has fallen,
There is no turning back,
Once done, so many actions are just done,
You can only change tack,

And accept what's been done,
Accept it as a part of who you are,
Like your eyes, skin and nose,
And opinion of war.

You cannot pretend that it wasn't you,
Who did what you had done.
Well, you could but then you're pretending that,
You're an apparition,

That you're not real,
'Cause you only prove that,
By owning the effect you have on life,
For there exists no other kind of fact.

I'll Take It

"If life's an illusion,
I will take it", she said,
And though there isn't any other choice,
It's a nice sentiment.

For though the choices that we actu'lly have,
Only exist within this illusion,
Not wanting to change it,
Is an homage to your situation.

It plants the green grass squarely on your side,
Would that I could join you,
Feeling the blades between our perfect toes,
It's silly to be blue,

When you're alive!
The only other choice,
Is to wish the illusion would transform,
Which means there's a chance I could lose your voice!

Winter Warmth

It is almost here, now,
You see it in the sky,
Clouds plump with snow, the chill air nipping toes.
It's winter passing by!

This is what we waited for all the year,
As kids, aching to be,
Sealed tight in boots, mitts, toques, scarves and snow suit,
Warm and snug as we build, roll, throw and ski.

That is the experience we all share,
And the fire for the new.
You can't live in this Canadian land,
Wanting just summer dew.

You must love cold,
And love the warmth of it.
When all but your kin are frozen in ice,
You learn fast in life what you should covet.

Simple People

You will never know me,
The way that I know me,
Not that that either view's absolutely right,
But, you can ignore me.

So, when I tell you something about me,
There must be some value,
To the nuances that I recognize,
Regardless of how they might seem to you.

We'll agree to disagree on some things,
Outside of you or me,
But I'll not think to know you more than you,
And you do that for me.

'Cause I'm simple,
As I'm sure you are, too.
There's no need to pretend anything else.
Let's let simple people do as they do.

Time Off

Well, it's now the first day,
Of no work for a few,
And, of course, like any other day off,
There is a lot to do,

For as you do those things you need to do,
To make money to live,
Real life continues to move right along,
Demanding that you remain quite restive.

So you have two lives, one to live, one lived,
All to remain alive.
But, where are those moments exper'encing,
The experience of time?

They are nowhere,
Our world has stolen them,
To maintain the structure meant to protect,
Our right to live free of impediments.

Extending Life

What are you doing, now,
That you've recognized that,
Life is as fleeting as the thought of it,
Or the glimpse of a rat?

All your secrets are as enormous as,
The journal of a tick,
And the time you spend pretending they're not,
Doubles the time wasted you could have lived.

Then all you need is a drop of one thing,
To get the paradox,
That you can yet cram an eternity,
Into this tiny box,

All you need's love,
That's what the Beatles sung,
You can love in life, it can be for you.
There's nothing you can do that can't be done.

Rear-View Mirror

I've no rear- view mirror,
Some find that quite insane,
It was ripped off years ago by my son,
So I altered my brain.

Don't know what's happ'ning directly behind,
I look left, right and front,
Like bats who have no need of seeing eyes,
I get by with other information.

I imagine there's always someone there,
At my back needing care,
Like memories that made me who I am,
That I don't need to share.

So, if you want,
To drive along with me,
You'll have to learn to look forward, not back,
 I no longer have need for history.

Just Words

There is not much to say,
If you know where you're from.
If anything will be redundancy,
It's this repetition,

Unless you fill your words with irony,
Something you do so well,
And with such joy, it makes me love you more,
Until I've caught every thought you let fell.

But is it my mind, here,
We are talking about?
After all, the ultimate call is mine,
Of the things that you tout.

It's all just words,
Even what I say, here.
In the end, you have friends with whom you can,
Say what you want with abs'lutely no fear.

Arab Spring for Morrissey

Why is Egypt so mad,
About this Morrissey?
His last album was back in two-oh-nine,
And he's okay, to me.

Maybe not as much as in the eighties,
Those open-eyed years when he still sang with,
That band with such sweet angst,
Must I ev'n say out loud the name The Smiths?

The muslims might not like it when he said,
"Break up the family",
Or hurt when said, "You're repressed, but well dressed",
Those for democracy.

I only wish,
That they'll event'lly see,
It doesn't matter what's actually said.
Unite in the spirit of Morrissey.

It's Never Lost

The spirit inside you,
Won't actually die,
No matter how much you feel it's been snuffed,
You've just forgotten why,

You were able to find it, the first place,
Because you were yourself,
And if you can refind yourself, again,
You'll regain mental health.

First you must pretend your world's been erased,
Now try looking around,
The first things that your mind creates for you,
Are things to which you're bound.

Never lose those!
Among life's other things,
That grow fast, like grass, right under your nose,
Making steps forget the source of their spring.

Where Are You Going?

What is it that you see,
For the rest of your life,
The things that stay, and the things that will go,
Job, kids, int'rests and wife?

When you are born there's only potential,
Only species is locked,
While every moment hence, starts to define,
And leaves certain other avenues blocked,

Unless you'd like to defy all the norms,
Some have excelled at that,
And benefited universally,
Others have fallen flat.

Who is to know?
Only your heart can tell,
And it can only ask your mind to know,
If where you're going is acceptable.

Cold As Snow

The snow was falling down,
Upset by cold and wind,
Discarded by the clouds and atmosphere,
For it would not rescind,

Its gentle chill or silent way it works,
The way, in fact, it loves,
The way it's never the same way two times,
How it thinks it is a gift from above.

But I know snow's secret and how it melts,
With the slightest caress,
From bodies with blood, warm, pumping through them,
Like yours, in vintage dress.

That's why I'm cold,
Until my eyes catch yours,
I finally find my place among these flakes,
Meshing, like water, to welcoming pores.

To Shed It All

If your life is cluttered,
With the duties you own,
To work, to desires, to what others want,
The mortgage on your home,

If the sun rarely rises as you sit,
In comfort, with a tea,
Contemplating what you might do today,
With your unfettered possibilities,

If you can't say what you like anymore,
For it's too far away,
And the act of simply chasing it down,
Would take days upon days,

You're not alone,
It's those who don't, who are,
Blissfully living life without a care,
Expectations may as well be the stars.

Absence

Is there any value,
To leaving what you love,
With the intent of understanding more,
What for your heart's enough?

Is the nourishment of your heart's desire,
What life is all about,
Despite the circumstances you've since built?
It's surprising more people don't just shout,

To the skies, in the middle of the street,
For some kind of redo.
Everyone knows we have only one chance,
And yet we all just do,

As if we don't,
As if we'll last all time.
We all must realize we're in the same boat,
And understand there is no point to whine.

Tupperware

Have you ever thrown out,
An old Tupperware lid,
Only to find later on, on the shelf,
Is where the bottom hid?

But what could you possibly do by then,
But throw the bottom out?
For it was such a unique container,
There was a time it was something you'd tout.

And lo and behold, that lid comes back round,
Maybe you remembered,
The notion of throwing that lid away,
Not that you overturned,

That avenue.
Tupperware's elegant,
You can't interchange any part of it,
Unless you find its exact duplicate.

Successfully Lax

Is it dedication,
That's the mark of success?
Well yes, you can't make anything worthwile,
If you don't give your best.

But is there more to it than just hard work?
Well, you do have me there,
Sometimes someone works hard all their life,
And dies alone, thinking life is not fair.

Until the world ends, not every way,
To win's been exhausted,
To recant the claims of this very poem,
It's not as posited,

It's what it is,
Maybe just define it,
As living exactly as you'd like to,
Meaning, you just may not have to find it.

Midnight in Paris

It's not enough to say,
The past will never be,
That nostalgia robs you of the truth of,
Present reality,

For reflection happens in the moment,
Just like everything else,
Just like some have no memory at all,
And have no meaningful sense of the self.

Reliving emotions and what you thought,
In worlds far and gone by,
Is proof that the life you're living in now,
Must also surely die.

The past will never be?
Isn't that the real lie,
That any experience could fall short,
Simply for where in the brain it resides?

Obama's Speech

It has stayed in my mind,
Since that late Tuesday night,
When millions of people watched just one man,
Who had just won a fight,

To lead the world's most powerful state,
A claim he made loud,
A place where if you want to have success,
And want to work hard, then you are allowed,

A place that believes in freedom for all,
And the intrinsic right,
To have an equal opportunity,
Like everyone was white.

And then I cried,
Because he pointed out,
That though everyone has different viewpoints,
That's what the United States is about.

Little Comfort

What is more depressing,
That few understand life,
Or that of those, understanding won't help,
Them avoid angst or strife?

It's little comfort to know what you love,
When you're struck down daily,
By fists and ethics and economics,
When your faith that things will work out fail thee.

Perhaps it's better, as others have thought,
That ignorance is bliss,
A notion, sadly, only understood,
Once you've accepted this.

Though, I won't go,
Back, to try this again,
Life finishes fast, despite chosen paths,
And true rewards only come at the end.

Happy Birthday

Where did you find yourself,
When you took time to look?
Why, when you realized what you left behind,
How your ego was shook!

The youth you were, who thought you'd never live,
To the age you're at now,
Must be turning over in his casket,
Clawing to reach you and slap you somehow,

For you've forsaken him like those others,
You swore you'd never be.
Welcome to the cycle of human life,
Born of society.

Though they're others,
Who have broken the mold,
That they found themselves in as they grew up.
And decided they would never grow old.

My Short Story

My story has no end,
Just like yours doesn't, too.
But if that means we cannot be as one,
I would end it with you,

I would throw away the middle as well,
If we both got to start.
Who cares what's over the next horizon,
If you must walk on with a broken heart?

Alone, birth can be discarded as well,
Don't say I'd never know.
My first thought would be, "where's my other half?"
Then I'd just let life go.

That's your meaning,
Within this short story.
Not much to write when the scene isn't yours,
And that's what you will always mean for me.

True Expression

The kettle is hissing,
Over the radio,
A clock is ticking underneath it all,
The rats are munching low,

Outside the wind is rustling trees and leaves,
As my chair creaks softly,
There is a faint hum from the computer,
Another train passes by quietly,

There're footfalls upstairs as people wake,
I hear myself sighing,
Hot water moves through the radiators,
I continue lying,

To my own self,
That's the loudest of all.
Until I can scream the truth of my soul,
The silence of it is unbearable.

Job Action

The government's lauding,
The improvements it's made,
To education's ability to,
Increase students' grades,

But in these times of fiscal challenges,
Sacrifices must come,
Teachers must not receive any more cash,
Nor can they strike under legislation.

And on what ground can the teachers protest?
This is all for the kids.
If they believe in putting students first,
They'd be happy with this.

So, who is right,
Those claiming greater good,
Or the ones fighting for the worker's rights?
Again, money's made ethics' lines blurred.

Over Again

He sat down at the bar,
Minding his own business,
Seeking the solitude that others see,
As a sad loneliness.

He thinks of all the choices in his life,
That led him to this point,
He's lost in thought so much, he doesn't see,
The tall and shaggy man enter the joint.

The man sits beside him, orders a drink,
And asks a hard question:
"Will you trade all you've accomplished so far,
To try life all again?"

But what a choice!
Life's hard 'nough already.
He takes a sip and thanks god for the taste,
And says, "the trying never ends for me."

Of The Two Roads Diverged

Somewhere along the way,
In more places than one,
You will find yourself stuck between two worlds,
With neither moon nor sun,

In a place where your body floats with ease,
Though you are not dreaming,
A purgatory in your waking life,
Where your daily objects have no meaning,

For of the roads diverged in yellow wood,
You chose not new or old,
But ventured instead into the darkness,
Intending to be bold,

Which is your right,
And others have done like,
But 'less you stumble on another path,
You'll never emerge from this lonely plight.

To Embrace Eternity

Life's very, very long,
You don't need proof of that,
Each moment is filled with doubt, and each day,
Is a moment-filled vat.

Now, your moments may be as clear as day,
But is that really life?
No questioning of the paths you can take,
Believing in knowledge of wrong and right.

One must tread the line of propriety,
Keeping others' freedom,
Remembering not to deny your own,
In every decision.

No easy task,
Especially in love,
When my hand holds yours in a world of doubt,
I'll never be able to get enough.

The Story of Love

Things never really end,
Until death do you part,
As long as there is one mind in this world,
That's invested its heart.

That is the true nature of history,
It truly won't exist,
Without those who hold onto memories,
And so it never ends because of this.

So what will become of the love we share,
After we both are gone,
The bond of our souls nowhere to be found,
By new generations?

All will be lost,
And what a shame for those,
Who need the lessons of a connection,
That tells its story in every new rose.

To Speak From The Heart

Nature does not edit,
The things she wants to say,
For no one expects her to compromise,
Or keep her heart at bay,

For what havoc would there be if she lied,
Rained when snow`s on her mind?
Like my spirit, when I deny my love,
The world's nat'ral rhythm is compromised,

Ocean's rise up, and wash away whole shores,
Like I would crush my soul,
Science would be crippled and meaningless,
Like I would have no goal,

And so I say,
What my body tells me,
For I deny my right to depth and light,
If I don't use this life for honesty.

As I Write

You may think that I'm not,
As happy as could be,
Because the things I write basically say,
Life is a tragedy,

Though, as I write those words my mind is free,
From guilt of impure thoughts,
The joy of expression's enough to thwart,
The imperfections with which life is fraught.

If this is a notion you can't compute,
And fear all that I write,
Seeing yourself in my attempt to solve,
What is wrong and what's right,

Then I can't help,
Nor can I ever cease,
Or I'd deny myself a great pleasure,
Something Hume said you should never let be.

Shaky Foundation

Condo market's falling,
Next coming is our jobs,
Then the banks will want everything back,
We've pretended was ours,

Like my daughter pretends she's a grocer,
Well, she might have to be.
Course, it's hard to get a job in this world,
When you're living on the streets, and you're three.

The thought of everything disappearing,
Should not be something real,
It's just helpful as a thought exercise,
To understand the deal,

Of existence.
Soci'ty's meant to be,
A safeguard against an uncertain world,
Not the source of all your anxiety.

End Page

How do you slow down time?
Do you really want to?
Sometimes I wish I could jump to old age,
Past all of life's ado,

Past all of the struggles and the obstacles,
To getting to know you,
Epiphanies of what I didn't know,
Thinking love couldn't teach anything new,

Slip slyly into the age of wisdom,
Where fantasy becomes,
No longer something to look forward to,
Instead, retrospection.

Will you be there,
In fantasy and life?
The former, for sure, forever and more,
Only old age will tell of future strife.

No Matter With You

There's something to be said,
About staying the way,
A risk for sure, but no more of a bet,
Than living day by day,

And not having a plan to guide your way,
Understanding life's not,
A condition you can prognosticate,
Leaping with faith towards what you have sought.

Either way you'll come across surprises,
For god laughs at your plans,
Though when it comes to the love that we share,
We will have the last laugh.

For we don't care,
Whether carried or dragged,
To the spot of our ultimate demise,
If we're one when we zig when we should zag.

A Homecoming

He sits up late downstairs,
She's upstairs feeling down,
Both thinking there's no syncing of their lives,
Like when their love was found,

The news of the world makes sure that they feel,
That they have it so good,
A middle class without the fear of rape,
Building a life like every neighbour should,

Helping to change the focus from one's life,
To wishing for world peace,
Resting in the hands of our governments,
Who have different needs,

"And what are they?",
He thinks, sitting alone.
There's little time to think about these things,
Maintaining the stability of home.

Freedom's Irony

What must you be thinking,
To think others are wrong,
About the nature of the universe,
And how to get along,

In a way that you're at peace with yourself?
First you have to believe,
In the existence of everyone else,
And thus their intrinsic right to be free.

Then, if you don't stop your belief right there,
And want others to think,
That how you act should be the same for all,
The cosmos will now shrink,

Back to just you,
With freedom for no one,
Because you actually have the eyes of God,
Which is a legitimate opinion.

Upon the Ship

The sheets were adjusted,
The jib pulled, at last, taut,
And though the engine would never silence,
The sails still calmed my thoughts.

The air, no matter how cold, enlightens,
Wind masks life's needless noise,
Like thoughts sharing the things their bodies do,
As if there's a link between mind and voice.

I walk the deck, I'm completely alone,
Death is a leap away,
Triumph is in the physics of the boat,
My life, now clear as day.

The ocean's you,
Wherever you might be,
Not the ship, yet the definer of it,
Not me, yet holder of my destiny.

What Separates Humans

What separates humans,
From animals and plants,
Is not our ability to reason,
That's not a proven fact,

Our thumbs are cool and they help us to build,
Though ants build cathedrals,
Proportionately higher than any,
Building built since we were Neanderthals,

And love's ethereal and can't be read,
I can't even say if,
The gifts and affection you pour on me,
Are a product of this.

So here it is,
What makes humans unique:
We like to kill things for the fun of it,
An act of the insecure and the weak.

Life's Fantasy

Don't live in the moment,
You'll only lose your self,
All reference to everything that you know,
And all you've ever felt.

Don't make goals and then live to achieve them,
They're never what you thought,
Your eyes focus on false apparitions,
And you get browner grass for all you've fought.

Don't let society tell you what's right,
It's not thinking of you,
You're too small to be of any concern,
'less you have adverse views.

Life's fantasy,
That's always happening,
No ends with which to compare your vision,
Each moment ripe with what you know's coming.

Vocational Tragedy

There is a door inside,
That has been found by some,
Who have chosen to keep it wide open,
To escape delusion,

They've never had to question who they are,
Their mojo just flows out,
Envied by those who have never been told,
That finding that door erases all doubt.

What a metaphysical tragedy!
Souls kept behind a wall,
Their bodies 'living' with no connection,
To their true potential.

But there yet is,
Someone holding the key,
If they're willing to take a leap of faith,
Who can still lead them to their liberty.

The Path Taken

When's the point in your life,
You made a decision,
And from that moment, what lay before you,
Felt like a revision,

To the world you were building for yourself,
Borne on the dreams of youth?
Sometimes I think the myth of adulthood,
Was invented to control the uncouth,

By some bureaucractic downer-machine,
With some misguided goal,
Of eliminating all real comment,
On the purpose of soul,

Which is to love,
Whatever it can find,
No more of this procreation bullshit,
Or jobs that take up all your working time.

Capitalism and Prohibition

Some say the war on drugs,
Has nothing to do with health,
That if you look at prohibition's past,
It's about keeping wealth,

Where it belongs, by keeping people down,
Whichever pose a threat,
The blacks, the Mexicans or working class,
Anyone who might demand fair treatment.

And this is proven by the cost of it.
Who else could pay to jail,
The thousands of casual weed smokers,
Who can't quite afford bail?

It's the elite,
Snorting coke to feel free,
Safely locked in their own gilded prison,
A working class for the dreams of money.