Core

Like a closed fist

The heart takes no prisoners

And locks out daylight.

Heavy with fear and contempt

It rumbles within,

A revolving mass of magma.

A constant burning, tearing,

Ripping of flesh

From fiery bone.

A cell of anguish

A torture chamber

That one sentences themselves to.

Tuck yourself into your misery

Let your lungs fill with desire

And breathe a fire to destroy.

Or you will remember how to love.

For Shame

Do you ever have that conversation every time you try to eat a chocolate bar or a cookie?

"Where do you think that's going?"
Why, in my stomach. Where else?
"Think about your sides and your gut that are growing!
Think about all the bulges and bumps that are showing!
Think about the calories your stowing
And the hot bod you're throwing away!"

And then you feel shitty and nasty
Nobody is going to want this fat ass
And to make yourself feel better you tell that little voice to go fuck itself
And eat everything chocolate or slightly fake and sugary in sight.

And then when you've popped the top button of your jeans
You sit down with an extra, extra, EXTRA large bowl of buttered popcorn
And watch the news.


A shooting.
A bombing.
A impoverished village in some remote part of the world you've never seen before.
A boy bullied because he doesn't understand why it's wrong to have a fairy sticker on his backpack.
A puppy mill with 40 dogs that can't see because their hair is matted in front of their eyes.
A soldier that died standing up for his country.
A spouse in emerg with broken bones because they said "no".

Why are we putting down humans for being fatter
Or skinnier
Or less perfect than Barbie?
Why does shame lie with innocent people
Who order dessert
Rather than start killing sprees?
We pay more attention to who's hot
And who's not
While the blood covered piggy goes "wee, wee, wee"
                                                                                              all the way home.



I think our little health-dictator voices inside need to look at the bigger picture.

Part 1: Love is like...

Love is like spaghetti.

You twirl it around your fork

Like a ballerina solo,
And when you lift it from your plate,
Red spots appear on your white polo.

Spaghetti is so disgustingly messy.
In one hand a fork, another a spoon,
Looking 'cross the table at your lover,
A slurping, sucking, idiotic baboon.

Spaghetti is the worst of all
It's frustrating like emotions.
Slipping and sliding and never cooperating
Causing all sorts of commotions.

But when you manage to cram a bite

Into your gaping gob

It's always so rich and soothing

And worth looking like a slob.

It's like conjouring old memories

When you need a quick fix

And people will always go back to it

No matter what's in the mix.

Love is so much like spaghetti

It frustrates you til you turn blue

But once you get to savour it

It'll always be there for you.

She left the door to her heart open

She left the door to her heart open,
welcoming visitors and guests to stay,
but an angry southern wind rushed in
dashing 'round the house
knocking over stacks of feelings
and buckets of tears.

She cowered in the corner
Waiting for the wind to finish rustling through her thoughts,
Flipping over wishes
Smashing dreams
Revealing an ugly, brutal
truth.

Just as the wind came in
away it blows,
leaving a massive, interwoven mess.
She peeped around the corner
checking for any slight rustle
from a friendly creature.

One candle stayed alight,
hoping to catch her wavering, watering gaze,
and guide her back to a small window
into the deepest part of herself,
where, stowed willy nilly,
small reminders of herself lay
shining and golden.

GREAT Expectations

"Sweep my off my feet!" says she,

"I dream of racing moonbeams,
of sailing along a silent sea,
of drinking from coconuts b'neath a palm tree;
with you, and only you,
holding my hand,
stroking my hair,
taking in the tropical air.

"I see us running
laughing,
playing,
making sweeter love than birds and bees;
I see us getting lost in cobbled streets
of our love in Paris.

"Why do you not reach beyond the stars,
Past the present to never ending bliss?
Why can't you care for me
more than a dove cares for its mate?
Why aren't you more passionate
than a wolf as he romances the moon?
O, why don't you love me
like Romeo loved Juliet?"

"I'm sorry, " says he,
his eyes sparkling in emerald green
"But I think your patriarchal notions of what should be
are ridiculously obscene."

Cliche down?

They always tell you to live life to the fullest

Like there's no tomorrow

Because you only live once

And you're young, and meant to make mistakes.

They say that you should take chances

That you should spread your wings and fly

That you should reach for the stars

Because life is fleeting and precious and you don't want to regret anything.

Maybe they're right

Maybe we take for granted our time here

Maybe we are too self-conscious, too thrifty, too blind

To the amazing world in front of us.

But maybe I like to fret over the small things sometimes.

Maybe I worry and scrimp and save and keep caution close

Because my life and the people in it matter

Maybe I play by my own rules.

I say it's okay to get tied up in knots

If you know how to loosen them now and again.

I say I will care for you and respect you and be honest and maybe even love you

Because you matter more to me than they do.

Thanks.

Chocolate Gold coins

Richness is

A handful of chocolate gold coins

Shared between two best friends 

Sitting on the floor 

Swapping stories of their secret crushes.

A whirlwind of ideas

Swirling, spinning, dancing

To the well tuned orchestra

That is your mind.

A love shared

In secret doorways or the plazas of Spain

Where sparks fly from eye to eye

Igniting the air with raw passion.

A firm hug

That aims, not to rid you of sorrow

But at least soak up your tears

Until you've no more.

A chocolate gold coin split in two

Because someone dropped their last on the floor

And you would rather share what you have

Than lose a precious future.

Shallows

Early in the afternoon,
When the tide glides out and the breeze is light,
A snail and a hermit crab linger
In a small pool amongst the baby sea grass.

Today they are knocking shell upon shell,
A battle to see whose will shatter first;
The victor looking on
As the homeless one is fried by the sun.

Slow and steady the tiny
Click-clack of shell on shell
Is deafening in the shallow pool,
But lost in the noise beyond.

The snail stubbornly stands firm
Waiting for blow upon blow
Until it gathers it strength and
Slams the thin-legged crab.

Though it may topple under the weight of its shell,
The hermit crab has but one speed,
And would rather ruin its home
Than concede to the likes of a snail.

On and on the battle rages,
Even as thin cracks appear in both shells;
They crash and clash, gnashing and thrashing
When, at last, they are left bare.

Tiny pieces of shell are accepted by the sea
As the tide rushes into the rocks.
The snail and the hermit crab trudge off, homeless;
Though their hearts are one.

Baby Steps

Tiptoeing down the endless boardwalk
being careful not to trod on open spaces
is exhausting work.

The dirt road may be dusty and gritty
But there is a freedom
in being able to jump and run without fearing cracks in the road.

There is beauty in having both.
One foot on the boardwalk, one on the road
Seeing the path, but not knowing the end.

Perhaps it is a dance, a balance of both
And those who chose one or the other are fortunate
To be so sure in the needs of their feet.

Talking to yourself again?

Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Who's that elegant beauty
That shimmers when she smiles
The belle of the urban ball?
That,with one glance of thanks,
Makes us feel a thousand feet tall?
That melts the ice on the ground
with a single footfall.

Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Who's that annoying kid
That kicks over bricks
And laughs as they fall?
That makes us all cry
And makes other appalled?
That looks so innocent
But is a bully outside the halls?

Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Who's that kind-hearted soul,
Picking out a bandaid for a crying child?
Who's that brat
Picking out someone's mistake?
Who's that siren
Silently sashay-ing across the floor?
Who's that dork
Investigating new planets and universes?
Who's that quirky brain
Constantly discovering; creating?

Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Why won't you answer my call?

The Conch

(courtesy of http://rateeveryanimal.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/08/conch.jpg)

They say if you put your ear to a conch you can hear the ocean.
They say you hear waves ebbing and flowing,
Back and forth,
And you can imagine lazing in paradise,
with the sun beating down on your face.

But when I listen closely,
Beyond the waves,
Beyond picturing warm sand between my toes,
and the distant cry of strange birds,
I hear your voice.

I hear you say,
"Come with me.
Come with me on the strangest, darkest,
Most amazing adventure you've had in your life.
Come with me on a daring, dazzling
journey that will challenge you in ways you've never known.
Come with me on the calmest, gentlest
stroll you will ever know.
Come with me", I hear you say.

I wish I could call back into the conch.
I wish I could say,
"I will leap with you
Into the canyon, the abyss, knowing we are falling together.
I will run with you
Laughing even though there are wild dogs chasing after us.
I will carry you
When you are hurt and need my arms.
I will", I want to say.

So I whisper the three words I mean most into the conch,
And lay it down in a bed of cool sand,
So that when the next person listens,
Maybe they will hear the words they've always wanted to hear,
And maybe they will say the things they've always wanted to say.
And maybe they will love more than I have ever loved.
And their world will be brighter and lighter
and full of the things I wish I could give you.

Midnight Blues

Peer into a clear night sky,
and you may catch a star winking at you.

Maybe it's a hero;
Off on another quest to save our world
From a fearsome meteor,
threatening to blast us into millions
Upon billions
of dusty particles.
Maybe he catches your eye,
and gives you that silent signal that
Everything will be fine.

Maybe it's another form of life,
And they're sending message after message
Trying to find some form of communcation,
but to no avail.
Maybe they're just trying to reach our wavelength,
to find out why we're turning our planet
Black with the stain of oil.

Maybe it's just a star
Bored of all it's other star companions,
it reaches out to another world.
It spies us, billions of lightyears away
And wants to make a connection,
be our friend in this dark and lonely universe.
Maybe it doesn't want us to feel
alone.

What does a wink mean anyways?

a letter from a woman you loved

Dear _______
Dear friend
Dear lover
Dear broken heart

Do you remember when we carved our names
into the bridge across the soft stream?
When we laughed and sighed
and skipped from beam to beam?
When I counted plucked petals
and watched you catch a drip rolling from your ice cream?
When you chased me in the park
and I let loose a childish, joyous scream?

Do you remember when I tripped and fell
And hated that you weren't there to catch me?
When I wandered onto my own way
Unknowingly into a forest of rusty debris?
When you called to ask if I was fine
And I only had the guts to say "Well it would be..."
When I let you go
And you felt like a body on a gurney

Do you remember how we held hands
Yesterday, on the dock facing the boats?
And we recounted the days past
Writing love note after love note?
When I could tell you how much I loved you
Making all your insides seem to float?
When our world was so real
And everything else was remote?




I do too.



Sincerely,

a woman you loved.

The Bull

The sun is hot.
It drives down onto my smooth, gleaming coat.
He steps onto the field.
He looks dashing,
His black suit beautifully embroidered
With slick lies and false diamonds.

The crowd roars in delight
As his feet are cushioned by the sand
With every flat-footed step.
They wave and cheer for him.
They spit and curse at me.
He holds his arms up in victory.

Silence falls.
He stands at the ready.
A distant quiver in the red cloth
I bolt from one edge of the stadium to the other,
The power in my legs urging me to fell him
Like a sapling to a great axe.

The red disappears and the crowd cheers.
I am a fallen jester
Being pelted with apple cores and gum wrappers.
He laughs and winks
Thinking his quiet smirk will distract me;
He is not safe.

I lock into his eyes,
No more do I see his flashy red cape,
I see into his faults
I aim my horns towards his heart
A rush of wind,
Nothing.

I walk proudly with my trophy.
I parade the circumference of my ring,
My triumph held high for patrons to ogle.
I am the victor today,
and he shall stay mounted on my horns,
Which shall remain painted red.

Being grateful

Something happened.
I'm missing the fire;
That piece that plays Town Crier
When you get in my face
Or out of place
Or annoy me to the point where I want to throw my shoes at you.

I'm fuzzy
And buzzy
And can't remember why I'm so angry.
Because all I can think about
Is when you let me spout
My problems like a 12 year old to her mother, too polite to say no.

Your kindness is overwhelming.
And it makes me horribly, sickeningly, unbelievably...


Grateful.

Speak Easy

Speak easy to me
Like a soft wind on the roses petals;
Like a gentle snowflake on my bare cheek;
Like a lover to the moon.

Speak easy to me
And ease my mind of doubts
Ease my body of cares
Ease my spirit of worries.

Speak easy to me
Like I am your only Muse;
Like you only see light in me;
Like you'll never see light again.

The Sand Woman

On the isle of Namow
When the breeze catches the delicate grains
Lying, lazing on the beach
She rises to meet the wave of the sea.

Carefully sculpted by a soft spray
She turns to face the water
Bidding the sun goodnight
And begin her inland journey.

The wolves sound with her first steps
Howling, teeth bared,
Desperate to take a piece of her
Back to their den for a midnight snack.

She strides forward, entering the brush,
The beasts squawking and barking in delight
Greedily greeting their visitor;
But her stride is steady.

She climbs the incline,
Bombarded by beaks and teeth and claws
Scraping, tearing, ripping
Leaving a sprinkling of sand on the forest floor.

The hounds break ranks and charge
Leaping viciously at her body
To devour what part of her they can;
But she continues, her face to the canopy.

Her arms are shredded
Her frame wobbles and wavers
Ready to collapse at any moment
As chunks of her coarse flesh are robbed from her.

She reaches a clearing, and the moon disappears
Paralyzing the animals in the bush.
The gentle wind embraces her broken figure
And, grain by grain, carries her back to the sea.

Scattered among the ripples in the water,
She will piece herself back together
And when the sun next passes through the sky,
She will begin her journey again, whole.

Poor Me

Feel sorry for us Albertans.

While we’re dealing with piles of snow

Complaining about how it just won’t go,

You sit there with sandals on your feet

Begging for change on the side of the road.

And while we battle the cold and the sleet,

Freezing off our baby toes,

You beat the heat

Barbequing scraps of meat

In a cardboard house.

“Poor me!” We cry

Towards the sky

As fluffy stuff flies by

Not thinking of you,

Who can’t choose

Between red or blue shoes,

And can’t get in to see an MD

For an useless knee

Infected with gangrene.

Because brushing off our cars is so hard.

Lorax

Congratulations on your latest Destruction!
Welcome to the new ELW:
Extremely Ludicrous Waste

Untitled

I see you when the trees change,
As the leaves float like fairies around me
And invite me to dance in the streets.

I see you on a bitter winter day,
As the harsh wind whips my cheeks
And home seems far away.

I see you when the flowers bloom,
When everything is fresh and new,
Budding again after a long hibernation.

I see you in the scorching heat,
When it's all you can do not to run through a sprinkler,
Naked. Ecstatic.

I see you in the palm of my hand,
As our fingers lace together,
And our love lasts through passing seasons.