Monthly Archives: December 2015

paint that never dries

the beauty of you

it’s more than what is in front of me
or the touch we share
it’s not the photograph or the audio
or the artwork i carry for you in words and paint

the beauty of you

your gentle honesty
raw emotion simple and real
un nerving truth you keep

the beauty of you

this bond we share

i will take always
you can have forever
we’ll share them both forwards and backwards
and God will say to us

‘you can both come as one’

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All This Bending

she is beautifully strange
odd courage of rebellious hope
standing outside tradition with choking sounds on
convention

dance o willow with the tattoos
fresh skin on the outside
those memories painted within

stand strong and move forward
onward staying beautifully

strange


Rain Lake Revival

I want to bathe you at Rain Lake
with your back arched
lili pads around your torso
Tom Thomson cabin in the background

If
in the pasts future, he had seen you like this~

(and in the change of artwork)

your hands over your head
this under water memory debris
canoes travelling toward the mouth
(leaving public domain for my private viewing)
this mind wishing for a second chance at
vacation in Algonquin~

you rise up onto the dock
and from the cabin deck i watch
put my book down
and walk towards your

reality


St. Jean

there is this unhatched egg on my mind
a naked blur in the water
you
floating through my dreams carrying a visual scent
-then i roll over an am half awake in the darkness

5am flashes and I know you are already on the training floor
so what do i do with myself?

i mark off another X on the calendar
call it a testament to love and strength
shedding loneliness and the dream of flesh

coffee brews
a decat on the rosary is spent
and the phone is carried hoping nothing will come from you
until the appropriate time

‘the days are long but the weeks are short’

you are right my dear

5pm flashes on the radio and I create supper
knowing your day still has another 6 hours to go
so what do i do with myself?

i wait for your call
and then i dream another night
of unhatched eggs and skin tone blurs in the water
knowing each day comes sooner and sooner
when one can never get used to sleeping alone…….


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