Bridging The Gap

Friday, 18 January 2013

Missing Pieces

Found on a piece of paper dated 2008. I suspect it was a Jackson/Triggs moment :-)

When without a direction
Your dreams know the way
If not finding your voice
The heart knows what to say
When this day is done
So begins another one
Now embroiled in sadness
Tomorrow might be fun
Around in circles
Around and around
Start looking for things
You should have already found
When no new dreams fill your sleep
Is your mind at ease
Then finding a safe harbour
From memories you needn't keep
Too far ahead or too far behind
The knots need to be tight
Or else everything unwinds
Making plans then making do
Just picture puzzles
Of me and you

Thursday, 17 January 2013

Untitled

This one bombed from the opening line. Some times you just stink plain and simple. But it's okay to save them because poems are like days of the week. Some days you can do no wrong and other days....it's like pulling teeth!!

If I were a flower and you were a bee
You could buzz all around
But always land firmly on me
If you were the sun and I was the moon
We would defy mother nature
From July until June
If you were rich and I was poor
You could give me so much
Yet I would give you more
If you were wisdom and I was time
In between the miles endless
Still the loving ties that bind
If I was calm and you were the edge
We could meet in the middle
And feel safe on the ledge
If I was beer and you were wine
Like oil and water
Yet there is a love we find
From emotions and words
Two hearts would rhyme
If I was a writer and you were ink
Joining hearts and hands
Then everything in sync
If I was reality and you were a dream
I would sleep forever
Then everything as it seems
If I could see your dreams
I could make them real
When two become one
It becomes part of the deal
If I could hear your words
I would hear promises spoken
Still all I feel
Are the promises broken

Wednesday, 2 January 2013

Wednesday, 12 December 2012

A Lifetime Love Affair

Copyrighted@2012RobMason

"I love you Robert Mitchell and I always will." Her eyes gazed upon him with such a certainty felt only from the purest of innocence that surely defined true love. Nothing else mattered and nothing was more important than that summer afternoon looking into the eyes of the one she would one day marry and love until the day she died. "I love you too Lea Ann Mason." There was a nervousness in his voice but his words were truthful. She was beautiful and he did love her. Robert was uncertain as to what the future would bring but he did not want this moment to end. On a sunny August afternoon in a meadow next to the ravine, an eleven year old boy and a ten year old girl professed their undying love for one another.

Robert sat in the chair flipping through the same magazines he had read many times before. He also felt like he was intimately familiar with this particular chair having spent many, many hours sitting and waiting. Today the wait would be over and it was not the ending he had hoped for when his otherwise wonderful world had turned to a nightmare. Throughout the morning people had come and gone from the room which was now empty except for him. Robert was grateful for this as more than anything on this morning he desired to be alone. “Alone”, He thought to himself. It was a concept he was going to have to become accustomed to. It had been almost a year to the day since Robert had taken a leave of absence from his teaching position at the University of Western Ontario where he had taught political science for twenty eight years. An accomplished writer in the field of politics, he had also written seven books of varying topics dealing with government legalities, foreign policy, economic infrastructure as well as culture change in the computer era. He also once served as a foreign policy advisor for a past Prime Minister. In addition to the leave of absence, Robert had also cancelled all speaking engagements and book signings due to this more urgent and pressing matter. As he waited patiently and with a heavy heart for the moment he wished would never come, he looked out the window and stared at nothing as the world continued on its way. Soon his mind began to wonder back to happier times.

“Just what do you think you are doing Mr. Mitchell?” We are on vacation and you promised you would not bring your work with you this time.” Lea Ann had that stern look in her eyes that Robert had seen many times before. She wasn’t angry but then again, she wasn’t pleased. It had been just a few weeks earlier that Robert sat in an office and listened to the devastating news. He decided to take Lea Ann on a vacation to the Muskoka region. Lea Ann had always the loved visiting there. “I’m just finishing tying up a few loose ends is all”, Robert replied. “I won’t be long. Besides, I thought you were going to paint some trees and birds or some watermelon or something today”, he scoffed back. Suddenly, Robert felt a jolt of pain in his left shoulder. “Ouch, that hurt”, he piped at Lea Ann. It didn’t really hurt at all but he thought he would play it for all it was worth. “It hurt my ass! When I want it to hurt, it will”. You know damn well I don’t paint watermelons, but if I could find one right now I might be inclined to shove it up your ass!” Robert burst into laughter and was soon followed by Lea Ann’s snorts which Robert just adored. Lea Ann was an accomplished painter who had her works displayed in some of the finest galleries in the country. Robert was very proud of her and had always like the fact the she was so artistic and talented. It was a contrast to his personality and he had always loved that about her. And teasing each other about their chosen professions to them was about as normal as an over-easy Sunday morning coffee. As Lea Ann left the room she hollered back, “Just be ready to go by five thirty. I don’t want to be late for our dinner reservations at that fancy, smancy restaurant you’re taking us to”. “I will be done and ready long before that that”, Robert shouted back. He could hear opera music in the back ground as Lea Ann always painted while listening to opera. He hated it, but since it made his wife happy he just tried as best as he could to tune it out. Robert was glad she had left the room because he did not want her to see what he was working on. She never looked at what he was writing because it was always some boring political or economic drivel. Only this time it wasn’t. This time, Robert was working on a book project for her and he wanted it to be a surprise.

“Mr. Mitchell, Mr. Mitchell! Are you alright?” Robert came out of his daydream. “Ummm, yes, I was just lost in thought. Is it time?” “No, not yet Mr. Mitchell” the woman replied. “I was just checking to see if you needed anything. Would you like me to get you a coffee or anything?” Robert was still a bit lost in his thoughts but finally managed to reply. “No thank you Gina. I am fine.” He looked around the room, then at the stack of magazines he had already read and then once again he looked out the window and watched the traffic go by. He thought of what was to come and he was scared. “How will I ever get through this?” he thought to himself. A few people entered the room, sat down and immediately began chattering amongst themselves. For the next hour or so, people came and went as Robert sat there alone with a blank stare that seemed to go unnoticed by everyone. After a while, all he heard was irritating noise as he drifted back to the past and back to happier times hoping that the present would turn out to be nothing more than a bad dream. He had been doing a lot of that lately but always found himself back to the disheartening reality that all good things must one day end. Robert knew the end was but a few hours away. After that, everything would change.

“Mary and I are going to do some shopping today. Is there anything that you need? Robert, are you listening?” “Yes of course I am listening. Enjoy your walk with Mary and tell her I said hi.” Mary just laughed which of course got her husband’s attention. “What are you laughing at?” he asked. You! You get so lost in your work and you never hear a word I say.” “I’m sorry honey” said Robert. “Hey if you are going shopping could you pick me a few pairs of socks?” “Of course I will” said Lea Ann still smiling from her husband’s ability to be aloof of the world around him. Immediately Robert again became engrossed in his writing. Although with no clear deadline to complete this new project, he sensed urgency like never before. He was tasking himself with something different than his usual work and like the perfectionist that he was, anything less would be unacceptable. Lea Ann left for an afternoon of shopping while Robert toiled in the task of doing something he never thought he would ever do and something he thought he could never do. But he knew he had to and more than that, for the first time in his life he wanted to do it. The afternoon seemed to pass by in a matter of minutes as Robert heard the front door open as Lea Ann returned from what he presumed was a marathon of purchases. “Is that you honey” he called out. “Yes and I am exhausted” she yelled back. “Did you remember to buy me a few pairs of socks?” “I bought your four pairs. I also bought you a few pairs of boxers and a new shirt.” Robert knew that this was not a good sign. Whenever his wife bought him clothes it meant she purchased an insane amount of items for herself including more knick knacks for the house that was already cluttered with such meaningless items. Robert shut off his computer feeling very satisfied with his efforts for the day and made the trek out to the front foray so as to go through the motions of seeming to be interested in whatever his wife brought home from her latest excursion. He was never concerned about money as they never needed to be. Robert was just happy to see her smile and even more so these days. “I suspect you spent the whole afternoon writing about productivity in the work place or devising some new age math for governments to tell us how well they are doing while the economy goes to hell in a hand basket?” Lea Ann asked sarcastically. “As a matter of fact Mrs. Mason, I was working on a novel titled, Lifetime Love Affair” he replied smugly. As Lea Ann walked by him carrying her bags of clothes, she leaned in towards him and whispered in his ear, “Asshole”! She just kept walking. Robert chuckled as he soon followed her to the kitchen. She looked up at him with a smile. “You do know that you are an Ass hole don’t you?” “Of course I do and I know that you love.” Lea Ann shook her head. “Yes I do and for the love of God I don’t know why.”

Robert sat in the chair still lost in happier times before realizing that the room had filled up with people and this chatter instantly annoyed him. He tried in vain to let his day dream linger before deciding to go for a walk. The sun a came out shining yet the cool breeze remained persistent letting all know that soon colder days would return. Robert had no clear direction as to his walk or as to his life as he just put one foot in front of the other. Not sure how long he had been walking he soon noticed the entrance of the university where he taught. Standing there for a few moments, he let the reality that he would never teach again wash over him only to find that he did not feel any emotion whatsoever. It wasn’t as if Robert’s world was about change. His world had already changed and today he would be made to accept it. In a few hours he would do what he knew he had to do and it would devastate him. To all other matters, he felt only indifference. Paying more attention on his walk back Robert notice a collection of pictures in a storefront window. He studied these generic paintings as his thoughts soon turned to Lea Ann’s paintings. He remembered her first big gallery showing and how excited and nervous she was.

“Which is your favourite painting Robert?” The question had come from Lea Ann best friend, Mary. Shortly after buying their first home together Lea Ann had met Mary who owned a beauty salon. The two were inseparable ever since. Robert had also become friends with Mary’s husband, Greg who was a police officer. When Robert was hired to do a study for a Conservative Think Tank on crime and rehabilitation, he talked to Greg extensively for guidance in understanding police policy and how such things would affect the statistics. The two couples had become quite close over the years and now, when Robert needed support during these times, Mary and Greg were always there for him. “To be honest Mary, my favourite picture is the one she painted of a watermelon. Her brush strokes seem to capture the texture perfectly and the bright colours had me envisioning the happiness and joy of sinking my teeth into a ripe and juicy watermelon” Robert replied. Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his upper left arm. “Ouch”, he cried out with a big grin on his face as Lea Ann pulled back her hand that had just punched him. “You’re an ass hole Robert! You know damn well I have never painted any watermelons!” The four of them enjoyed a laugh or two until Lea Ann was called away by the gallery owner to speak with a potential customer interested in one Lea Ann’s paintings. Greg was admiring a painting leaving Mary and Robert alone for a minute. “She really is so talented”. “Yes she is!” said Robert. “I hope she does well tonight”. Robert was extremely proud of his wife and her talent. In fact, he had secretly purchased one of her paintings that night and had planned to donate it to the University library. Lea Ann sold a total of five paintings that night for a tidy sum of money. She didn’t care about the money as she was just thrilled that the event was a success and that people liked her paintings. They decided to walk for a bit downtown after the showing was over. Lea Ann had her hands wrapped around Robert’s arm as they enjoyed a midnight walk on a beautiful summer night. “I am so happy for you sweetheart” Robert said to her. “Thank you dear”. Lea Ann leaned in and kissed her husband on the cheek as they continued their walk. Even after dating for so long and even after thirty nine years of marriage, Robert was still nervous and he felt awkward about affection with his wife. Yet he loved moments like these. He never understood what this beautiful and creative woman saw in a stuffy, stiff-lipped Political Science Teacher but was thankful to have her in his life. “What a beautiful night” said Lea Ann looking at Robert and smiling. “Every night is a beautiful night with you” Robert said. He instantly thought that it was a ridiculous thing to say and felt silly. But his wife’s head on his shoulder told him it was the perfect words to say. “You know Mr. Mitchell, with your writing skills, you should write a novel.” “You want me to write a fictional novel?” Robert asked curiously. “What about a love story? You could write a fictional love story based on us!” quipped Lea Ann. “Sweetheart, I wouldn’t know where to start or how to write such a thing. You know I’m not good expressing my feelings” Robert came back with. Once again Lea Ann smiled at him. “You are man of few words that is true. But your words are always genuine. I can tell by your body language, your mood, and the look on your face exactly what you are thinking. Sometimes what you don’t say tells me everything I need and want to hear. If you could find a way to make the reader feel what I feel it would definitely be a story worth reading!” Robert thought on his wife’s musings for a bit before saying “I have it! I can call it a Lifetime Love Affair. Since it would take me my whole life to write it you would have stay married to me forever” he told her. They both laughed and then Lea Ann said something that Robert never forgot. “I fell in love with you that day in the meadow and I have loved you ever since. If you need a lifetime to write our love story than I believe you will have all the time in the world” As Robert began retracing his steps his thoughts were fixed on his wife’s words of that night, then he thought about this day and what would come to pass in just a few hours. “Just like every fictional novel every real love story also has to end” he thought to himself.

As Robert walked the hallway back towards his familiar sitting area, he saw Gina flagging him down. “Is it time?” he asked, yet not really wanting the answer. “Yes” replied Gina. “It is time Robert”. Gina had come to know Robert very well because of the appointments and meetings over the past year and she truly looked upon him as a friend. She instinctively wrapped her arms around him as she felt him start to tremble. Both had tears in their eyes as she whispered softly in his ear, “I know this is the saddest day of your life but in time, you will get through this!” Gina led Robert, into an office where he was to sign the documents that would destroy the only world he ever knew and loved. His signature and one last act would end his lifetime love affair.

Robert stood there alone staring at was once his world and reason for living. All was quite except for his soft whispers and the steady humming and beeping sounds of the various complex machines located around the room. Even as he looked down at his wife’s broken body he only saw the beautiful woman he married thirty nine years ago. The cancer had spread quickly and within a year this once vibrant and energetic woman had been reduced to a scrawny ninety pounds. Robert was thankful that the doctors were able to make her comfortable and that her final days were relatively pain free. They had never said goodbye to each other. They made a promise that they never would. With a trembling hand, Robert slowly stretched out his hand to push a button that would shut down the machine keeping his wife alive. All of the paperwork had been filled out, signed and filed according to his wife’s wishes. The funeral arrangements had been prepared in advance. Everything was set and all Robert had to do was push that button and two lives would come to an end. He hesitated as if waiting on an eleventh hour miracle that he knew would never come. He heard the clicking sound of a machine shutting down, and a once beautiful voice becoming silenced forever. It was over. Robert took a thick stack of papers out of a bag he had been carrying around all day. He placed it on the bed next to Lea Ann and moved her hand over to rest on the papers. “I love you Lea Ann.” He then walked out of the room and down the hallway without saying a word. Nurse Gina just touched his arm lightly as he walked by but no words were spoken. No more words were needed. As Robert passed the waiting room where he had spent so many of his days and nights since getting the news of his wife’s illness he stopped and just stared into the empty room. Then he went home.

Robert stood at the sink washing the dishes. He had a dishwasher but since there were only a few dishes, he just washed them the old fashion way. He had spent several days after the funeral cleaning the house and tending to things that had been ignored for quite some time. Robert found himself humming to the opera music that had been playing all day on the stereo as he did his domestic chores. By nine thirty in the evening he was satisfied that that the entire house was as clean and immaculate as it could be and needed to be. He poured himself a Rum and Coke with ice and sat down in his favourite chair with a stack of papers and a small box. Robert looked at the page on the top of the stack for quite some time while sipping on his drink. He placed the papers down on the end table next to the chair and opened the box resting on his lap. The sound of opera music could still be heard at ten thirty. The small box had fallen off of Robert’s lap. The half-filled glass of Rum and Coke slipped from his hand and went crashing to floor. The only sound heard after that was the sound of opera music.

Greg was on patrol that night when the call came in. He though he had frozen when the dispatcher gave him the address but soon realized he was parked at the home of his old friend. The flashing lights from the police cruisers and ambulance lit the entire neighbourhood. Hoards of people stood on their front porches waiting for a glimpse of something terrible. He entered the house and immediately heard the sounds of the opera. He thought this strange as he knew Robert detested opera. Walking into the den Greg stopped in disbelief. On the floor was a small box the Robert had kept a hand gun in for safety. He recognized the gun still on the floor as the one he gave Robert some years ago. Robert was still sitting in his favourite chair with fresh blood that covered the right side of his face. He also noticed a few wet areas on the rug that he presumed came from a glass that had fallen and broken into pieces. Greg knew instantly what had happened and why. His long-time friend Robert Mitchell had taken his own life. Yet something on the end table caught his attention as he leaned in for a closer look. Suddenly there was silence. “Hey”, he snapped at a rookie officer. “Why did you turn off the music?” The young officer answered nervously. “I just thought it would be better to turn it off.” “Turned that music back on now” Greg snapped back again. He again turned his attention to the end table with a large stack of papers on it. The top page was spattered in blood but the title was still visible. As he read the title a slight grin came across his face. He knew he was looking at Robert’s latest book. He read the words aloud.

A Lifetime Love Affair, by

Robert Mitchell

Lea Ann Mason

What Comes And Goes...Revisited

It was another year of hope
Still dangling in what comes and goes
What disappears seemingly forever
Perhaps victims of perception
Until we dare scratch more than the surface
Unravelling each and every knot
No longer amicable to just hanging on
Climbing up or slipping down
Choices we tend to defer
As the middle is where we feel safest
That baggage that weighed us down
Until the day we chose to cut it loose
Steps ahead now not looking behind
Yet some pains still ever nagging
For a time to make our own sunny days
Eyes now squinting from brightness
Until our eyes focus
Adjusting to the lost yet familiar
Embracing the smile yet still distant

Thursday, 8 November 2012

How A Woman Knows If He Really Loves Her

1) When he says, "I love you almost as much as peanut butter".

2) If he lets her pick the shrimp off of his plate in a restaurant.

3) When he lets her keep the memory card with all the nude photographs.

4) When he buys her a Hooter's uniform and she doesn't even work there.

5) If he starts to order Strawberry Daiquiris at a sports bar.

6) When he buys figure skating tickets because he loves spending time with her more than he hates watching figure skating.

7) When she says. "I Love You" and he says, "I know".

8) If he reads 50 Shades of Grey and actually gets it!!

9) When he turns the channel from Star Wars to Storage Wars

10) If he says, "You are beautiful" before she puts her make up on

Saturday, 22 September 2012

A Bad Man With Good Intentions

Copyrighted@robmason2012

He stood there sheltered and out of the wind. The overhang of the building kept him dry as a hard autumn rain pounded the streets with no signs of letting up. With one full bag and one empty heart he bided his time waiting for his chance to be reborn. And he understood the irony of a rebirthing that would finally define and then claim his life. The streets were empty except for a few cars passing but no one paid him any notice. He blended with the night. He blended with the darkness. He embraced the loneliness and he preferred it that way. He touched no one except for maybe that one. He could never be sure. But she was out of his reach now. Or perhaps, he was out of hers. And when he stopped wondering long ago it defined a man thankful for both

The shrill of a blowing whistle caught his attention and he turned towards it in anticipation. A false alarm as it was not yet his turn. The night seemed to be getting longer while his days felt only more numbered than ever. A bad man with good intentions is a man who craves to crawl out of his own skin. And these cravings were now more than just creeping! He wanted something more while feeling that he was deserving of less. Such a man who dreams for fields of gold and green is surely a man who dreams in desperation. He revised his dreams when revising his life. Defining success when accepting pain, his loneliness was his crowning achievement. He knew his fate and he knew his true self. He was born to hurt and was determined that it would never again be shared. He would better himself this night when he left behind the one he loved. His loss would be her opportunity. Her chance for love would be his selfless act. He loved her more than life itself. He loved her and so he let her go.

The raindrops became a blur as he drift to places and traces of another time. It was as if he had strayed into a dream but one where he always knew how it ended. It always ended and always the same. The night became a portal for reliving every past mistake of his life and each moment seemingly fresh in his mind. One last time and hopefully for the last time, he relived each and every regret. The wounds still stinging and the scars still reminding and there stood a man wondering if any amends would ever be within his grasp. It was a fleeting hope but he hoped that leaving would be a step in the right direction. Nearer to the end a man yearns to leave behind a legacy. When realizing that he will leave nothing that defines honour and valour, he feels caged in a trap of his own doing. There is no reprieve save that of returning to where it all began with hope that it may bring comfort to an end.

Much like his internal struggles, the rain refused to relent. Soon, he would step from his comforting cover and brave the elements for a greater good. He didn’t mind the rain as a man who feels washed up never does. He didn’t mind the cold as a man who lives cold hearted never does. Many seasons had passed on while life passed over him and evolving a man defining indifference. Yet, there was still a remnant of what he once was. But it was fading fast. He decided that before what he is finally destroyed the remnants of a man he once knew that this pain would never again be shared. His new beginning could have been felt as his year of hope but he knew in his heart it would be his last poem never read. He could have convinced himself that a new start would lead to an alternate ending. Yet, he knew better. One who hurts is only capable of hurting others. And he knew he was born to hurt but he didn’t wish too.

Within a few days of leaving there were a few who had noticed his absence. Others would not realize it for months. And there were some who never noticed at all. A few would ask why while others could not be bothered. But the one he missed the most was the one who never let her feelings be known. As time passed, he never heard from her at all. It hurt yet, he was not surprised. He could find little blame in a world where so many people were hurting from the lack of basic nourishments that sustain from within. Through his own circumstances he understood that one should never be labelled based on only the worst they are capable of. A man wanted love but did not deserve it. He wanted happiness but never earned it. He was a bad man with good intentions and wanted to change it. He would live out his days alone and he knew it. He spent his final years wandering around a new town which felt strangely familiar. Perhaps a native son had just returned home to complete the inevitable cycle of life. Perhaps it is a destiny that all must fulfilled. One man just drifted away like an evening’s summer breeze. He seemed to disappear as easily as the innocence from a young boy’s eyes. What he had to offer seemed to be what nobody wanted. What he wanted seemed always a wish too far. He wondered if this world would ever find tolerance for a bad man with good intentions. And he wondered if he could ever find the compassion to tolerate himself.

He stood there sheltered and out of the wind. The overhang of the building kept him dry as a hard autumn rain pounded the streets with no signs of letting up. With one full bag and one empty heart he bided his time waiting for his chance to be reborn. And he understood the irony of a rebirthing that would finally define and then claim his life. The streets were empty except for a few cars passing but no one paid him any notice. He blended with the night. He blended with the darkness. He embraced the loneliness and he preferred it that way. He touched no one here and thus hurt no one here. It was time to move on as a man with a good intentions made a choice not to be a bad man.

Tuesday, 18 September 2012

Sunday, 16 September 2012

Starting With A Kiss

Copyrighted@robmason2012

Sealed with a kiss
Betrayed with a kiss
Blinded by a kiss
And loving it.

A forever lie
The forgotten lie
That loving lie
And embracing it

An untouchable dream
An endless dream
A hurtful dream
I do love dreams

My unforgettable love
An undying love
That one I love
And love can hurt

Monday, 3 September 2012

Over-Easy Sunday Morning

Embracing a day already delightful
Feelings of nothing invasive
Sensing nothing I find improper
I dare step off the sidewalk
Notwithstanding the perils
At times life has to be lived
Over-easy and able
This is a Sunday morning

From the ambitions left dangling
I know the coming tasks
I can still revel in being idle
Some dreams forgotten
Yet a time for all things
Soon it is time for me
Making preparations
I can present as a man ready

Adorning what I know cannot last
Savouring moments of every minute
What I cannot still contain
Turns subtle and always in layers
Yet this is a Sunday morning
I am over-easy and I am able
No burdens from a weightless world
Tomorrow my shoulders are broad

She

She dreams of moments
She survives in shades of grey
Happiness in combining colours
Lost yet still something seems saved

                           She cries herself to sleep at night
                           She laughs to hide away the pain
                           Still waiting on one better man
                           One to prove they are not all the same

She lives her days in the past
She struggles for something to say
Every crossroad is an indecision
Signs yet she can't find her way

                           She waits on better days
                            She looks to heaven above
                            Wanting what she cannot find
                            Who wants to live without love

Sunday, 2 September 2012

The Days You Learn

Your dreams have not been lost. They remain right where they need to be. Whenever you find yourself ready, you will find your dreams there waiting. There have been too many days spent praying for your burdens to be lessoned yet omitted was a prayer for your strength to be renewed. Romantic in thoughts and preoccupied with dreams while you allow that which holds you idle to still linger. Patience is not so much a virtue but a prerequisite which gives you the opportunity to pause and reflect on what you let in and what you let go of. You hurt and then cried. You have learned, now you laugh. You have faith and you live. And the time of healing begins. Then come the days of preparation. Then a time to search your soul. Make busy your hands that remain idle. You will start to kick your feet. And with your heart open it is your feelings you will finally define. You have been like rose rushing to bloom, impatient to bud when without nature's ingredients. It is never too late to shine in your own time as a late bloomer is no less seen beautiful. There is no race that ends without a beginning and somewhere along that course you find your footing. Every piece of the puzzle is as important as the other. You will never find clarity if you stop searching. It is measurable, incremental, linear and it is obtainable. And those sooner days keep approaching. Defined as steps and you need to take them and the last one is just another first. Life is defined as progress thus remaining still is akin to regression. Becoming who you have wanted to be or rediscovering the person you once knew. Make everyday a preparation. Take everyday in turn. From hurt to healing to hope, these are the days you learn.

Wednesday, 29 August 2012

Wishing You Weren't Here

It's been a long July
These nights seem to have no end
If only one feeling would fade away
You still remain on my mind
Me still trying to learn to bend
Without you I make it to another day
I wish you weren't here
You still only do me harm
Ironic when pleasure from the pain
Afar you remain near
Mesmerized by your charm
With or without you here I feel the same
You are my Kryptonite
You leave me defenceless
Just when I found a heart of stone
You become this night
A night that leaves me breatheless
You are here yet I am all alone
Praying for more
Yet happy no dream comes due
Your memory won't let me let go
Hardest of all
Friending the one you love
If only they knew your secret
I wish you weren't here

Wednesday, 22 August 2012

Heavenly Wishes

I wish I was an Angel
Everyone would love me
More than just good intentions
Love and love is free

          I could be happy as a breeze
          Existing between here and there
          Weightless Is never a burden
          Not idle when everywhere

If I could only shine like a star
I might just brighten your day
Stories unfold in the darkness
No one sees the price you pay

         I wish I could feel pain
         When pain no longer hurts
         Each day to a final destination
         Knowing nothing is worse

Tuesday, 21 August 2012

Nobody And Nothing

Nobody wants a little more sunshine
And there is nobody who looks for brighter days
Ain't nobody lost between moments
There isn't anybody who has something to say

The grass on the other side isn't greener
And these green fields haven't turned to brown
There isn't anybody heard screaming
Forcing silence nobody ever makes a sound

The rockets fired never do explode
And those aching never feel any pain
The ones searching cannot ever be lost
The ones guilty can never be to blame

Nobody yearns to be something more
Ain't nobody who will cry tonight
Evil never triumphs when there is good
Ain't nobody wrong when it feels alright

What Always Lingers

Wanting to be your gentle breeze
The winds of life drifted you from me
Your sent has lingered
The memories have lingered too
Life gives us pain and pleasure
I feel both when I feel you still
That feeling lingers
And I am grateful
My dreams having sailed
Across the river
Far and wide
To eastern shores
Laying me down
In greens and gold
The flower whithers
Soon I dream no more
Yet once upon a time
There you were
It was nothing of a dream
Until you were no more
You still linger

Monday, 25 June 2012

Man In His Own Skin

Some more chicken scratch of the past that I never found a place for...

The heavens opened up and down came the rain
I stood there alone for hours
Hoping to wash away the stain
The midnight calm refused to set me free
A prayer never answered
When the daylight refused to let me be

              At a crossroad yet with nowhere to go
              I stood alone for hours
              And I waited for my fate to show
              I heard the whispers on the breeze
             When I asked where they were going
              They never did answer me

Like a prisoner left tied and bound
Struggling to escape
I remain caged in this forsaken town
I picked the lock without a key
Still surrounded by bars
There can be no escaping me

Friday, 22 June 2012

Making a Dream Seem Real

There are some thoughts, emotions, ideas, epiphanies, and even some poetry that we seem unable to find a proper place for. It shows on our faces. It wears on our sleeves. We can let it go to the passing wind if we are able, yet when stagnant, everything lingers...

The radioman plays your favourite song
That two in the morning epiphany
You know where it all went wrong
Never will you be a hero
Never a hope in hell
One day you let it out
Some days you never tell
Not definable is a life on the edge
The sidewalk too narrow
Yet still safer than the ledge
From day to night
From laughter to a tear
When everything is murky
Is when everything becomes clear
Stepping towards the day
A leap of faith into the night
Then choosing to let it go
Closing doors
Shutting out lights

Wednesday, 20 June 2012

Downtown

From the book, Stuff That Matters, 2010

This is the original version of the poem I wrote when I was just 18. I had just moved out on my own to a slum apartment building in the downtown core. I spent many late nights down by the waterfront and was amazed at this entirely different world I had stumbled across. And even though I had never witnessed this other night life, I guess my past and upbringing had prepared me for what most wish not to think about as I was curious, scared and yet, not at all surprised. Over the years I was able to rewrite it and make it better but.....There is something important about hanging on to an 18 year old perspective of life and so I left it alone as originally written. Even though it is not very good, I am glad I left it as I first wrote it.

Downtown

I took a walk on a warm summer night
Never knowing what things I might find
I found a symphony cast in the shadows
And an underground world alive
Of constant duals and makeshift rules
Where winners claim an empty prize
And the losers relinquish nothing
Since emptiness can always be revised
Savaouring the night and safe in the crowd
Always nearby yet they seem so distant
No place to be with their life and it is free
And to society's scorn made resistant
Some are hungry and some are hunted
A few are victims of their own demise
Running away or trying to find home
Some dreams are meant to live but some die
The alarm is sounded when the heat is on
It is now time they were unseen and unheard
They scatter for a time but are never gone
That perception of reality that is blurred
Day after day and then night after night
A life lived and no chance for change
And tonight as another one joins their ranks
Will we ever figure out who is to blame

At the age of 46 I realize that the words chosen could be different, but nothing has really changed. The numbers have just mutiplied.

Tuesday, 12 June 2012

The Big Brown Box We Leave Behind

Defining life in increments
It is better that way
Nothing is overwhelming
There is good and bad
And what avails in between
Small sips from a cup almost empty
For each new day
Hinging on a fulcrum delicate
Between the sun rising and setting
More than a life passes you by
Always knowing it took pieces of you
One day you take stock
Then that disheartening reality
When knowing it took more than that
The times passed
Yet you still reside in that place
Left lingering are moments ambiguous
The ones hurtful
What you could not resolve
Until that deciding day
Made stronger from the killing
Reborn in the survival
Every story must have an ending
We are not naive just hopeful
When happily ever after fails
Nearer to the end
It is not salvation we seek
Nor justification
Afraid no one will remember
Or even worse
That they never forget