Monthly Archives: November 2017


two nights ago i dreamt
and we named her ‘Claire’
despite real word names we’ve already chosen

‘if a boy we’ll name him
or a if a girl we’ll name her

and she felt good in my arms.

all the worry of whether i was ready
would sleepless nights fuck my nerves
or would 9 months then or after change your demeanor….

they left – inside those eyes of a smile.

this morning i daydreamed
and she was there in car seat laughing
holding a boston pup of her own
while laughing and kissing an older version in the same mirror.

i smiled and went on with my day
while thinking of this house
our first home – my first night alone –
and night dreaming of messing up the hair of a young lad
coming down the stairs in early evening.


none of this means anything
but Hawaii in February sounds promising

i’ll buy a fedora
a ukulele

maybe some local poetry

and you’ll soak up the sun
ask for all the tours
and we’ll never tire of the beach

but perhaps…..


i dunno

but perhaps….

and tonight i wait to sleep
while the radio plays online from Honolulu
and while the snow falls lightly on the roof

while you look warm
under the sheets – in the blue tinge of night….
and before we sleep.


Island girl in your orange peel bikini
– the waiting period while cooking chicken in the rain.
wine poured resting on the table top cooking island
window collecting steam – palm trees drawn

90 days are the nights in anticipation
weeks drawn and pulled by workhorse hours
– at night we sleep under sleeping bags
dream of the ‘nothing but sand’ and ‘whispering hula skirt’ weather

the waiting period while cooking chicken in the rain
cold shingles and insulated windows with reverse trees blowing in storm.
– tonight we will close our eyes after our full meal under sleeping bags and quilts
i will hold you in your orange peel anticipation and dream of ‘nothing but hula skirt’ weather

North Bay: 51

it’s coming – this dangerous weather
where we lose our virginity and witness winter
go to work and listen to the Hawaiians in shock
watch trucks from Texas spin out into the ditch
hear the hometown folk say ‘yep it gets bad sometimes’

it’s coming – and it’s been a long time since i was a virgin…..

piss poor painter

if it came that i painted you
would you think less of me?
calling myself Shelley
– and not to degrade you
but to say I was desperate?

desperate in a way that says
I could not live without you
a person in my life which i felt i created in such a way
that you could not leave me?

that lack of confidence
or that state of loneliness which lays
only in dreams and perhaps outside reality
where the abandonment creeps in
and the necessity of love must find itself once the eyes open

but i did not paint you
you came naturally into my life
and became part of me in such a way
that i had to become part of you

each a new creation of the other from the best part of ourselves
dark and mysterious with a ray of hope
understanding that separation only makes us each less of a new
complete whole.

and i am thankful for you
and am thankful that you are more real than any dream
or wishful companion which could never stay for long
i am glad that i could never be a painter……

Maybe you’ll say it’s a shitty muse

letting you know – I know
but don’t choose
different realities or words
I choose purposely what I choose
listen more intently to the silent singer
the finger muse
the words the rhythm
-it’s not disjointed
not grade 4 adieu

there’s the rhyme not in rhyme
disjointed music that halts on words
a piano key stuck – a scratched CD
jazz that goes on it’s own delude

but words are not things you collect and never read
stacked shelves with ornaments you only dust
each word is picked to create a page
create create create

God with his flowers
a painter with his colours
beggar with a sign
a dreamer who can control the night

i’m letting you know
i choose what i don’t choose
i am my own muse
– but is my mind the best model?

I Don’t Know…..

Golden Years

The Sturgeon wolf moon
her pre winter paw tracks
leaving through the reserve nation
re following the railroad tracks
pre evening darkness
you can not review the yellow tamaracks

and you love the tamaracks
and you love the drive to settle the mind

the adventure before settling back in
do you give up the solid for the adventure?
take the job of less or the better everyday?
and what is the better everyday-

and you love snow on the tamaracks
and you love the mind working before the page

Back inside North Bay lights
Nipissing waters that follow your car
even when the lights are out and it’s dark
the lake knows and follows the car
from the top of airport road in evening
the lake disappears with her islands but is there

and you love knowing she is still-there
and you love the Petro Canada lights as a pin point map

The North Bay/Sturgeon Fall moon
all this water for a crater so far from her own creation
this vehicle heading back home
complete darkness now under green – go lights
what will her answer be?

and you love the waiting interlude
and you hate the answer or will hate the notice…..

Under A Sturgeon Fall Moon

today’s generation

it’s too young a face
come back when you know something

and the model leaves at 23 understanding her generation
are unknowable to themselves until around 39

at 39 i will know who and what i want to be
and it will mean i will know what i want to do

for a living
for a partnership
for a sacrifice
for me.

come back when you know something
you’re too young in the head…..

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