Taking Off The Lid

December 3rd, 2014 — 9:05am


One must wonder

at this world of

beer cans, ashtrays and “just because”,

wonder at the

movement of it all,

how pages yellow and lovers spent

crawl away to their corner of the bed,

how the flowers in the vase

dry and disappear, deny the day,

wonder at the way

it all slides down,

wonder and listen for

the sound that can’t be found

the sound that accompanies our

great, so gentle, imperceptible fall,

listen for the orchestra’s honest organizing whistle

listen for the violin’s whine and the oboe’s sad skip

the swish of the conductor’s baton

listen for this one step, two step, the beat

we all, groping for each other

dance to complete

to greet and applause beyond our laws

our false creations, our fabulous flaws.


One must wonder

at this world of

so much music nobody hears.

How much better we might dance

if we did.

Like a cook smelling, taking off the lid.

One must wonder where

the life lived is hid.

PDF Version

Comment » | More Poems, Poems

Morning Moments

November 16th, 2014 — 10:21am

How do the eggs on my plate become

the words I right now state?


There is so much to do today!

Doing nothing is probably the best option.

But how does one do by not doing?


Outside, two, three, four chickadees flirting from

feeder to branch and back to the feeder.

Shaking, shrugging snow off their back

oblivious of nature and her schemes, her dreams.


I wish there were an instrument I could dip into my coffee.

It would tell me of all the hands that have touched this brew

and bring me back to the field where it was born.


Two things I love the morning for -

1. Waking up to discover what’s new in the world!

2. The emptying. A bowel movement that lightens and sends me out into the day.


When does the morning end?

With the closing of the door and the starting of the car?

With the splash of water on the face?

With the last gulp of the first coffee of the day?

With the precise pointing of the clock or the warm, winking of the sun?


Morning. A kind of hangover so drunk we are of sleep.

PDF Version

Comment » | More Poems, Poems

Take This Poem Of Mine

October 25th, 2014 — 10:07am


Take this poem of mine

and rip it from your heart

for it is there – finished

it just needs your start.


Take this poem of mine

and remember through

the pain this place parades,

remember the words

each sound a blow to the head

a wage that is true.


Take this poem of mine

and wear it

a yellow star of David

a flag, a declaration

that this blood crazed world of

mundane murder

will not seep into your

more red, more rare heart.


Take this poem of mine

and read it aloud

to your too true children.

Read it in a voice

that sends, that shows

the same sign

that is all song, all sense that flows.


Take this poem of mine

and tear it up.

Digest it, mend it,

be it

and walk on and of this world

as it

a song that is free

singing in each of your steps.


Take this poem of mine

weak like a calm wind

slow like the forest’s green

young like a motherless child

simple like spring’s sun

take this poor poem of mine

and make it your own.

Only then shall the doors open

and the wind wander through,

only then will the heart rise

and the act be what we do.


Take this poem of mine …….


PDF Version

Comment » | More Poems, Poems

Why I turned out the way I am

October 16th, 2014 — 8:44pm


It’s for your own good

my father belted.

My mother did the same but

at the dinner table with peas.

Mr. Drury in Grade 7 had me

write lines of PPPPPPPs

“It’s for your own good”, he opined.


Cigarettes are now 10 bucks a pack

and casinos $1,000 plane rides away.

“It’s for your own good”, they say.


Seat belts, sanitoriums and saints

always a safe, sane step away.

My wife, my ever, always wife

books me monthly to see a doctor

as much a dunce as a doc can be.

All he offers are pills and pleasantries.

Both saying, “It’s good for you!”


Wars, weddings, sprayed green lawns

papal proclamations and government edicts ….

It’s all for your own good

they declare when asked.


I am, my life now nearly done

I have yet to truly taste what

we call – free.

I followed footsteps and danced

for my own good, like I was told.

Thinking back I now know how

I came to be who I am

this man, here and now

finally at home in the world

on edge, now so aware

of what really is good for me,

my flusher broke.


It’s like one day you wake up

And realize there ain’t no jello tree

and the gingerbread man has

run out of your dreams or

you find out the dictionary

was written by a dyslexic pedophile

and you head out the door to

write your own.


Antigua, Guatemala

October, 2014

PDF Version

Comment » | More Poems, Poems

Stolen Elegy

October 11th, 2014 — 9:41am


Oh the end game of i

to have bounced from country to country

or danced among the silent letters of time

to have been part of Marseille, of Seoul, of Carlsbad

of Canada and of the Alps

to have returned at the time of tin terror

to this earthy, giving land

to Antigua, to Guatemala and to those places

where the Mayans met the Spanish and they mixed their blood,

to have sauntered through the mist and mystery of early morning Prague

to have survived this house of mirrors, this life

to have sought in vain, the always in the eyes of one woman

to have questioned old wisdom, new wisdom, this empty modern

to have seen things as they are

death, the clear morning, the forever sky and the tender blooms of spring

and to have seen the horror, the always deep end

except for that moment, the old lady in Kiev handing me a pen

a face that does not want you to forget it.

Oh the end game of i

perhaps no more, no less that u.


October, 2014

PDF Version

Comment » | More Poems, Poems

Just In Case

August 30th, 2014 — 6:54am


Just in case

you hear of my demise


a piano caught me under it

by surprise or

a measly microbe

cut me down mid-stride or

if lucky

I never woke up from

a better dream or

even luckier

I bid adieu

by the wave of my own hand.


Just in case,

you get that phone call or email or

read of it in the back pages

of the local paper,

this is just to say

I’m fine with it.

PDF Version

1 comment » | More Poems, Poems

Lachez tout

July 27th, 2014 — 11:25am


Drop everything

even your hat

even the money

you didn’t give,

even the rabbit

you didn’t pull out,

even the thoughts

you wish you never had.


Drop everything.

The day is coming

where levity will

be in demand.


You can’t push over

what isn’t attached.

Drop everything

and ring like a bell

against itself

and sing like a song

to no one in particular

and run without destination

over the hardened ground.


Drop everything

even the happiness

you’ve never considered,

even the soft bed

you’ve sunk into,

even the freedom in flesh

you’ve found.

Drop everything

even the sound

that silently

swings in your head.


Drop everything!

The day is coming

when the suitcases

will be piled high at the door

when the flesh

will waste away on

its rusting pedestal,

when thirst

will dry up no more.

The day is coming

when all will be

counted only once.


Drop everything!


Lachez tout!

PDF Version

Comment » | More Poems, Poems


July 10th, 2014 — 7:45pm


I am here

this is enough

like the last seed pushes

through the rougher rough.


Want, desire, need

abstract things I

no longer bleed.

This apple now in my mouth.


I am here.

Piss, shit, breath and spit.

I lounge and loafe.

There is no longer any

getting on with it.


For others there

the buzz of progress, nicer hair.

I lift my glass.

I walk not there.


I am here.

This is enough.

Like the glistening tired ant pulls

the large leaf through the rough.

PDF Version

Comment » | More Poems, Poems

It Doesn’t Matter

July 7th, 2014 — 9:31am


It doesn’t matter if

the air con is kaput

the car got scratched

or the wine ain’t chilled.

It doesn’t matter.


Don’t matter if

the dog went on the carpet

or the DOW’s up or down.

Don’t matter if

there’s an earthquake

or you won the Super 7.

It doesn’t matter.


No worries about

missing that 9am meeting

drinking too much

drinking too little

no mayo in the fridge

a bad back

a better world.

It doesn’t matter.


It doesn’t matter if

the bus is late or

Sunnis are killing Shias

Shias are killing Sunnis

Israelis exterminating Gazans


Justin Bieber is doing time.

Don’t matter if

you are this or aren’t that

don’t matter

if the dog got your cat

or the cat got your tongue.


It doesn’t matter

if your mother-in-law

hates your guts

or the plane’s delayed.

Don’t matter if

your bank balance is $.1.15

or the remote is broke.

Doesn’t matter if

you don’t finish this poem

or even do.

It doesn’t matter.



It doesn’t matter.

PDF Version

Comment » | More Poems, Poems

So Many Fish In The Sea

August 29th, 2013 — 9:16am

I tried to take pleasure

my hands about her tiny waist

but from time to time

I had to look at her face.

A face not even

liquor, love or money could erase.


As my fish friendly father

once confessed,

half sauced

still on the rocking boat,

“The deeper you put in your line

the uglier you’ll bring up

but the eating’s all the same.”


PDF Version

Comment » | More Poems, Poems

Back to top