Monthly Archives: February 2014

The Horizon At Midnight

On this side of suicide

all is possible

looking out from the shore

and seeing the sky beneath the sea

in a broken horizon

on a broken wing

even knowing

everything we see is seen upside down

even knowing

our eyes and brain turn a trick on us

flipping sight on its ear

we believe we see what we see

and while stars are drowning in the sea

we cling to what we always knew

and drown not in what is

but what should be.

We Are The ‘I’ In Team

Nothing gets us out of our seats

more than sports

not science, art, nor, politics

nothing gets us cheering nor flag waving like winning

an Olympic gold medal or a World Cup

and though we didn’t vote for our winner

still Team Canada beat Team Sweden

this win only affects our us as much as we let it

unlike politics

which can throw down the War Measures Act

any time it wants

stripping us of our civil liberties

leaving us naked to its authority

like in October 1970

when the army lined the streets in Montreal

in uniform

destroying any sense of unity this country could see

until 1972

when Montreal’s goalie

lead a hockey team dressed in Team Canadian red and whites

to victory over the Soviets

and for one night

we were all from the same country

giving future generations

that sensation that good things are going to come

knowing they have a great shot

at winning

when wearing the colours of the country

we get alchemy

and we believe

red and white

can turn gold

from sea to shining sea.

The Great Wall of Us

Whatever came between us

can be overcome

like the Great Wall of China

to the Mongolians

nothing ever stopped them

when they found out they could just hop over it

and continue their onslaught

of Peking.

To think more people died building the Great Wall than it kept out

reminds me that some times the best defense becomes the worse offense

when we attack ourselves

simply by trying to build a wall around us.

Songs Shot Through a Silencer

I just heard a song

that reminded me of a melody

I wrote in the last century

(the 20th, still our bloodiest)

and I still forget how my song goes

I know it was the best song I ever wrote

still I sit here so many years later

with only the aftertaste of what once was

like sucking on pennies

and though this song lives within me

I’m filled with frustration that this song is long gone

and its aftertaste reminds me

of what was

and even when I spit out the blood

I know its bruise hasn’t healed

though I can’t find it anywhere on my body

I feel I need its rhythm to save me

from what was once and what could be

but at this midnight I hear nothing

except the whispers of the wind that has passed

catching nothing more than the breeze through the leaves

leaving me with this silent poetry.

The Science of Emotion

Even rocket science ain’t rocket science

when it’s broken down to mere mathematics

one plus one doesn’t always come out to two

when we’re talking about lovers

sometimes you get three and sometimes one

and eventually none

like I said

it ain’t rocket science.

Picking Up in a Second Language

God knocked down the tower of Babel

cause He didn’t want us to get too close to Him

and He scattered us all around the world

to pick up new languages

and thank God

cause I’ve got a job as an English as a Second Language teacher

and if we all spoke the same language

I’d have to get a real job.

Pavane for a Dead Relationship

Ever notice how a song sounds differently

with each hearing

depending when you’re hearing said song

though your intellect knows

the notes only know one way to flow

strung from the score of the fingers plucking the guitar

recorded before your own folklore

puts voodoo

into what you knew

and what you thought you knew

until the two

become the sum of one

and fantasy is reality

and now you’re hearing love songs


To Throw a Ball Through an Open Window

I’ve broken what was never really there

do you have any idea how hard that is to do?

To break what was never really there in the first place?

Like smashing through a window made of wind

breaking more than the sound barrier

but the sight barrier as well

when I can see past now and hear myself speaking to you tomorrow

and still I don’t have anything

to say

but I can break silence

with the word


And you hear me say nothing

and you know exactly what I mean

this means


Outside In

I tried to create time travel by running really fast backwards on a train

and now got so close to before

I could taste it

a burp more delicious than the meal

a memory more sentient than the moment itself

I just had my cake AND ate it too

take that, cake.

Dying For Immortality

We live to die to live in memory

even if that memory is infamy

at least we’ll live till infinity

unlike all those who died in anonymity

never known

never forgotten

never known they were ever forgotten

or ever known they were ever forgotten

what’s the difference


the present perfect

has been as clear as yesterday’s memory

now you know

you knew more when you knew nothing

as long as you are breathing

you can read this

so even if you’re an idiot

(though I’m not saying you are)

you now know more than all dead geniuses

and isn’t this the meaning of life:


to keep living

to live and breathe

in poetry.