Monthly Archives: March 2012

Truth of Life

Love is sexy
and a woman
is beautiful
when she loves you

You finally matter
so does she
you’re a handsome
man
when you love
her

I am a sexy man
my woman is beautiful
she makes me handsome
we matter to
each other


The Painters Hands

A grey and white road
corners into
fall colours
photographs back
to black and white
memories

Have i walked you
or driven
were you corduroy
or black top

Kick a pebble stone
the road turns a
painting
-hang it on the wall
search for the signature
take it down to
magnify the strokes

Did i meet you
or thumb a ride

I am older now
what was black and
white
what was colourful
and what was grey
-i pause to consider

It was all a
road
biked and walked
driven and crawled
It was all a painting
and a photograph
grey and colourful
It was real and imagined
forgotten, muddled, relived
dreamt and kept in
storage

It’s a road slowing down
while i pause in
sunlight safe
It’s a hiway speeding straight
rushing forth
while my body sits
beside the painters hands
my mind a memory of photographs

-rehitting soon, the road


Black and White Algonquin

am i taller than
you
when reflected in
Algonquin waters
or

is that my
future ghost
waiting

are mornings meant to
be still and
beautiful
or

quiet haunts
and waiting
forest
traps
I stare at old photos
cabin bound in
wilderness driftwood
and feel eyes
looking back out

Is that an old memory
or a reflection of
caught energy
a canoe drifts past
and heads home to
dock

i stand on shore
looking out to you
paddling

is that my reflection
your canoe breaks in
ripples
or

is that my
present ghost
asking me to
return


county cork(town) Hamilton

County Cork(town)

Old floors
dusty toe taps
black and tan
lady servers
old men pourers
car bombs sliding across
deep brown bar rails

couples on lead stools
band by main doors
tables carved with
lovers initials

St. Mary’s bless us before we start

patrons

Remember our founding fathers
their siblings mark
these local street signs

raise the bow
dear fiddle boy
lady Krista
bring us our usual red brew

it’s friday night in a
dirty ol’ town
and home is calling me
from across green shores


Smile a little Smile

there needs to be
a
silent moment
when
everyone holds their breath
looks
at their
neighbour
and smiles just a smile


Say thank you Clifford


grey – not blue

the skif-skaf-tap
of my left foot
tipped down hat

the shadow puppetry
audience in grey cords
not blue
grey
crossed legged and
interested

my right foot holding
me up on the stool
cool shoes
black-line-twined
to microphone
my mouth

and

eyes staring
at those damn
grey
not blue
corduroy audience pants

listen to my rants
as made up as
on the spot jazz
skif-skaf
tap
audience-cross legged-fans


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