Monthly Archives: December 2012

A Toast to The Progress and Passing of Time

Do you think

the dinosaurs ever blamed the oil companies for their demise?

Do you think

the Stegosaurus and the Brontosaurus sat around coming up with conspiracy theories

as to where they were all going?

and so why can’t we see what’s right in front of our eyes?

Why when a pen doesn’t work we try it on another piece of paper

thinking it’s not the pen that’s out of ink, it’s the paper that’s broken?

like blaming God for the religions that kill for Him

and if Jesus Christ & Michael Jackson came back on the same day

who do you think gets the front page?

Sure, Jesus could walk on water but could he moonwalk on it?

North America started as Asians walked across the Bering Straight

now we blame immigration for the problems of the nation

people starting sentences: “I’m not a racist, but…”

there’s no, ‘but’, cause it’s already too late.

I heard a guy whining about ‘lazy’ Mexicans coming to steal our jobs

he said this while eating a taco in a Mexican restaurant

you can’t hate Mexicans and love tacos!

Now the surreal is the real

when the internet becomes our best friend

and Facebook is the best way to avoid face to face with each others’ faces

I know I’m spending too much time on the net.

Last night my dreams flipped like related clips on Youtube.

I awoke to 5000 hits on my subconscious

with the social networks we wanna share



never tweet during sex no matter how much people need to know how awesome you are.


And Happy New Years!

Putting the Fun in Dysfunctional Family

At 5 years old I asked my mom

“Is there a Santa?” Then I reconsidered, “Wait, if there isn’t, do I still get presents?”

I knew enough not to punch a gift horse in the mouth

just keep feeding it milk and cookies

even if it is the Trojan horse

bring that bad boy home

so long as he keeps giving gifts

like my mom paid a lot for my boarding school education

where I studied Latin for five years

though I never learned Latin

but mom doesn’t know, so she asks me to say Christmas Grace

one year she’ll hear ‘veni vidi vici’ is not part of the Lord’s Prayer

the next day my family really puts on the gloves for Boxing Day

picking ourselves over

like the last bit of meat on yesterday’s turkey

then Uncle Fred gets insulted when I ask him why he’s such a two-faced vegan

sorry, I just don’t support vegans who eat venus fly traps

seems hypocritical to eat plants that eat meat.

Uncle Fred counters that there are no absolutes

cause if this was true, it wouldn’t be.

Sure, but what does he know?

he suffers from: hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia- the fear of long words

so he keeps his sentences pretty short

and you know he’ll never get better

cause he can’t even admit his problem

though, in Uncle Fred’s defense

it doesn’t seem fair to name the phobia that can’t be named by its sufferers

but I pick on him anyway

cause he’s family

and I always pull out my thesaurus whenever he comes over

and torture him with my behemothic vocabulary

he gets me back by telling me I’m his least favorite nephew.

I am the only nephew he’s got.

As the saying goes:

we can’t pick our family

thank God we can choose to insult and ignore them.

Defining The Abstract

If I could measure my life

in the breaths I breathed

or the books I read

or the needs I need

how accurate can such a sampling be

when none adds up to be the ideas inside me

all my intentions

well-honed as they may be

I don’t know where they can lead

still, I walk on this side of the road

I can even hitch a ride if I feel so bold

but all these words poured from a look I gave every book

on my shelf

wondering what they say about myself

the ones I’ve read

the ones I haven’t

ideas I don’t even know exist sit waiting to happen

on something so thin as paper

and so big as another writer offering their charity

and I’m too full of myself to eat

no one is too busy to do anything

this is the great lie we tell ourselves

knowing full well we can do whatever we want when we chose

and there is a balance between what we take and what we lose

like this poem got tied to rhyme

where I need to find a match to every line every time

and how much has that tied my mind to thinking rhythm before meaning

are we suffering from this self-imposed sentence being

meaning our own grammar and syntax is a sin tax that we must pay

just to get through the day

when our imaginations are at play

we confine them

draw lines for them

and give titles to abstract imagery

just so we know what to say

when someone says they believe this whole universe is a dream of Vishnu

sure, you

want to

say to

them they may be dreaming themselves

but how do you know

when the voices inside your head

only speak to you

and to you


My Niece, The Baby Jesus

My ten month old niece played the baby Jesus tonight in the Nativity Play

talk about non-traditional casting!

God bless the United Church for taking the leap of faith

to interpret the baby Jesus as a baby girl

my niece, Emma, was a wonderful baby Jesus

cooing and drooling at all the right places

though, I thought it was funny

when the teenaged kid in braces playing Joseph

tried to shuush her from stealing the scene

I wonder on this all Holy of Nights

if anyone ever tried to shuush the real baby Jesus.

Merry Christmas to all

and to all a good night!

The Poem Outlives the Poet

It all came to this

you reading me

what? you don’t believe in destiny?

you don’t if you don’t think you aren’t meant to be here

no matter how much you wish you were somewhere else

me too

though I wrote this years ago

and still here I am

telling you

there’s no escape from Fate

if there was

you could call checkmate

and write off all I’ve written

yet we’re both still here

(thank you)


I died three years ago

and still we are still here

and you don’t believe in reincarnation?

that’s cool

but maybe you wanna reconsider

how we both ended up here

when one of us is dead

and neither of us know what’s ahead.

The Soul Knows No Plastic Surgery

The body can decay

the soul cannot

I might not recognize your face after twenty thousand days away

but your soul I will know intimately

you cannot hide from me

even under a mask I know you

all the plastic surgery in the world can’t shield you from me

gravity might be redefined

time gets less and less kind as it unwinds

sure, food for diamonds

less so with us humankind

who all hope to rise up

after our bodies have been put below

still we might send men into space

I’ll still know your face

when you say hello.

Why We Travel

To stay on this island

would mean

growing terribly familiar

with one spec of sand on the entire beach

it would become home

and returning to Toronto

I might find

I never left

when it gets so hot here

rain evaporates


it even touches

the ground.

Reading This Could Destroy Your Life

Can watching the eleven o’clock news kill you?

Tune in at eleven to find out!

We report we have nothing more to report than we have nothing more to report

tune in later to hear us talk about how nothing is happening.

The media has become the industrial complex that Eisenhower warned America would be

should it continue to spend money on war machines so recklessly even in times of peace

put a gun in someone’s hand and they’re bound to shoot it

put a microphone in someone’s hand and they’re bound to shoot their mouth off

regardless of the truth

they’ve just gotta fill air time

by blowing hot air

now open the newspaper

count all the stories of celebrities, athletes, kings and queens

now look to read a single story out of Africa or South America

are you telling me by selling me these sheets of paper

that’s black and white and read all over

that nothing happened in two whole continents?

I don’t believe you

you’re fictional news

propaganda for the blues

ignoring all the light and bright and right in this world

feeding us with what’s wrong

rarely giving us a taste of what’s right

and we buy it

we create the news you shove down our throats

cause we consume it

well, how’s this for a news flash:

the sun will rise tomorrow

and the night will set

and the boogeyman doesn’t exist

unless you tune into the eleven o’clock news

to see what news you never knew you missed.


Love is blind, that’s why I don’t let love drive.

(This post can also be read in braille on my home page for the blind.)

An idiot once wrote:

Love is blind

Stevie Wonder is blind

therefore Stevie Wonder is love

the same fool who penned:

Kids are little drunk people:

stumbling around peeing themselves, asking stupid questions.

Childhood’s a bender, adulthood is its hangover.

I know I was smarter thirty years ago

I just don’t know how or why

I was more imaginative

I loved deeper

I believed in Santa Claus and dragons behind the door

now I’m all grown up

a man

at the expense of my immaturity

now my friend Jane says she puts men in 2 categories: Stupid or Obvious.

I asked her, “Which one am I?” She said, if you don’t know…

I don’t know

what I do know is that a collection of fish is called a school

then a group of ferrets is called a business

so first you study as a fish then graduate to a business of ferrets

on the karmic corporate ladder

eventually you lower yourself to this

I’m waiting to evolve beyond a human being

being beyond what I am

what’s next?

I’m too man to know

just ask Jane

she seems to know.

Kama Sutra For Singles

This poem goes out to all those voices in my head who don’t actually exist

you know who you are.

You wanna get to know me?

Well, get in line

cause I wanna know myself.

I know some kids had an imaginary friend

I didn’t think I deserved an imaginary friend, so I had an imaginary enemy.

I know I was glad when I learned Santa was a fraud.

I was 5.

I asked my mom point blank: Is Santa real- but if he’s not- do I still get presents?

I know time is an abstract. You really believe summers are as long as when you were a kid?

I know numbers are infinite, but their usage is finite.

What does that tell us about math and the distance between us?

I know there are two things the News constantly gets wrong:

the weather and lottery numbers.

I know I go to X-rays strip club, cause I see beauty on the inside.

I know there are two kinds of people in this world: you and me and I’m both.

What I don’t know is how all this adds up

what comes next in this cosmic equation

if heaven is an all-you-can-eat restaurant

don’t we like eating more than being full?

Will we feel so fulfilled in heaven?

Could God be so cruel?