Where is the right place

For me?

This person that i am

That never fit in,

This person that i am

That never felt aligned

Isolated in the crowd

Standing still in the dance

From where

Does this dis-ease spring

If not me?

Am I where in supposed to be

And will I know when I’m there?

I bought a new bike

But I kept the old one

Justincase

I loved the new one

The fresh, bright paint

The quick breaks

In every way

It was better

I left the old one in the garage

And would look at it

From time to time

To reminisce

About the goods old days

When it carried me

To places of childhood mythology

These days the sun sets fast

Like an eclipse that pauses;

The moon stands still

And the world becomes grey

Covered in shadow and ash

And you can only sit in the dark

And wait

Toronto is newer

Than it once was

Shinier, taller

As if self-conscious

Of its colony status

So it sought to be other;

But the old city remains

Kensington is crowded

And Massey still sings

Close your eyes

The streetcars and the subway

They sound the same

While the old couple

Crossing the street in Chinatown

Step right out on traffic

Unconcerned,

Stop or drive over us – your choice

Toronto stands

A picture of everyone

From everywhere.

Some poems are like a great shit

The kind preceded by deep pain

And a sudden rush to the toilet

Wherein much horror is released

The refuse and garbage of a sour gut

Built up throughout life

That needs to come out

It is ugly, and the stench –

It drives everyone away

But the relief that follows

Puts you in mind to create beauty

After flushing the ugly down.

my suitcase of calamity
my many faceted streams
they linger on in screams
they echo in my dreams
just waiting for a time to rise again;
they cycle through the bog
that terrorizes my mind
it happens all the time
i wish that i could find
a way to stop it from continuing;
you’d think the horror show
would have ended with the decades
but still there are the parades
the tortuous evening charades
that keep me haunted and afraid
to drift off to a peaceful place;
someday i’ll find that magic spell
that coin dropped in a wishing well
the balm that halts the ringin’ bell
and sees me stand in strength
to greet a morning at full length…

Voices echo through my mind

Hidden in plain sight

Reminders of treacherous acts

That threatened to sink the ship

So that one wonders

If people actively wish to drown

Or if they simply wish others

To go down instead

The sun sets for a reason

The moon is needed

Each hour,  each moment,

Each season

Else the world would scorch

And die in flames

One needs the cool silver night

To quench the day’s heat

And sail overhead as bright

As bright carriage across the skies

Evening birdsong

Permeates the warm, humid air

As the sun declines

And day gives way

To twilight night

So many calls

“I am here. Come find me”

This feathered community

Wants to be known

Beneath this faded blue dome

Soon to be purple

Then light speckled black

When the chorus goes quiet

And drifts off

Glory is the slow rise in the morning

Silently laying in bed together

Waking at the pace of the hour hand

Letting life in one breath at a time

As we lean into one another’s warmth

Twin rising suns setting the world ablaze

Slowly coming to life in each other’s arms