For The Birds

My dad loves to have birds,
Make nests around the house,
About five exist under the carport,
More barn swallows, no grouse,

All flitting to and fro, feeding their young,
Bird poo everywhere,
He tells me tales of their activities,
Proudly, like he's making them his new heirs,

Which wouldn't bother me, actually,
They give him such a high.
Once, when one flew over his head five times,
It meant mom wouldn't die,

Of course she did,
But he still loves them there,
They are his friends and he takes care of them,
Knowing they're with him makes me feel less scared.

It's Not Over

There's something I won't think,
It is not what you think,
Fear of anything's based on reaction,
Making your stomach sink,

Or compress from repeated and hard blows,
It has happened before,
Not that risk of vi'lence should dissuade you,
But then, which thoughts are worth suffering for?

There is the school that says just say it all,
They'll get tired of punching,
But then what does that say about your words?
Importance a done thing.

Pick your battles,
They say that, too, I hear,
The trick is to not wait too long to stand,
Before what you really want to say's mere.

That Chair

There's a chair over there,
Not hurting e'en a fly,
Brown and worn, its life shorter than it was,
The perfect mid-life guy,

Its favourite times must be when it's sat on,
Imagine what it hears,
The coos and bites and thoughts and flatulence,
The singles in front of it feeling slight,

The transference of fibers and of skin,
Accumulated years,
Left again on pants and skirts as they leave,
Perhaps congealed with tears,

And, man, those legs,
Once so shiny and new,
Maybe their creator had admired them,
Now they lay hiding, just supporting you.

Last Draft

Well, I am back at it,
There is so much to say,
So much, in fact, I'm at a loss for words,
Didn't want it this way,

Didn't ask for any of it, really,
Who of us ever did?
Get born into a world you've never seen?
Would've been nice if we could have vetted.

P'haps we could inherit a catalogue,
Leaf through 'fore buying in,
It don't have to be all cash and sunshine,
Just some pre-inspection.

Don't get me wrong,
Wouldn't trade for the world,
You don't know a house 'til you've lived in it,
Life's as impenetrable 'til unfurled.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?'.

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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

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. 

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. 

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.

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.

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.

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.