and not one lion roars

but liquor’s in the cabinet

and horsemen come in fours

the Norsemen grabbed the oars

and made a mighty heave

they said they went to sea that day

having booked the leave

oh where did they go

and what did they do

why didn’t they know

what they thought that they knew

why couldn’t  they see

what they thought that they saw

when the policy statement

was binding on law

blasted

blinded

never mind, you signed it.

Their paradigm is slipping

I believe they fail to see the point

you know it could be tipping

I was hit with sacrifice

Shuddering sacrifice

Not once

Twice

Blammo…

“Get more ammo!”

yelled the sarge

“please excuse me if I barge”

excuse me

recluse me

resume-peruse me

happenstance

circumdance

turning on a dime

meglo day-glo

caught me in my prime

steel glistened

 no one listened

but by the glint of a sun

I saw that

The whole is greater

Then all the parts in sum

The moral

A plural

Cosmic arrangement

Explains

To some extent

Reality’s estrangement

http://www.garageband.com/artist/everlee

As Lola moved from one bed to another

I had a dream of nightmarish proportion

A phantom stood

Mottled and grey

My reflection I’d say

Go away

Go away

“oh right” he sighed and obliged

And lazily left

While the music

My golden ring

Remained tantalizingly too far away

Initially afraid to sleep

Though now somehow

I rejoice

Finally finding voice

And means

Rehearsing scenes

And rainbow scented jelly beans

It turns out that anything posted to the internet is usually not eligible for publication.  I have a few poems that I’m going to submit places so I won’t put them here until…

… I’ve been rejected.

sniff

Not to worry, I’ll just up my creatine ante!

I did do something silly and here it is;

Twitter tube

I’m tweeting when I twitter

Because I  waddle with my feet

I google on my browser

When I want something to eat

I’m lost without my GPS

I’ve got to stay connected

My USB’s malicious

Now my hard drive is infected

I fear the nano probe

So I’m shy when I disrobe

I thought I was well wired

But I’m just a techno-phobe

My friends are all on facebook

And I just got a blog

I finally got a hit today

I think its from my dog

please add your comments if you are so inclined, I hope you enjoy my work or that it evokes.

regards

Loving

Singing

Laughing

Let’s take it on the town.

Dig for it.

Deep if you have to.

It used to be easy and new and exciting and you took it for granted but one day you went from blasé to blah having no idea how to conjure up the zest one more time and you wish so sorely you could and suddenly and angrily you admonish yourself for being tricked into thinking you can’t and letting all that time slip away like moonlit tide.

Slipping with your fading strength and memory and vision, seduced into believing youth was the package, the package of health and oceans and novelty that came together in a harmony with moments that can never come again.

Well yeah.

How foolish I was.

How foolish I am.

How foolish I will be.

Had I only known.

Have I the means?

Dig for it.

Deep if you have to.

Wisdom’s over-rated.

Ignorance is bliss.

I’m not too good at either.

It’s harder now,

But much more real.

So much braver I must be

Standing before humanity

Uttering no falsehood

Claiming no victory

And pleading for courage

(Oh God give me courage)

To see it as it is

So I can dig for it

Deep if I have to

And buried somewhere on the surface

Staring me right in the face

A thousand times ignored

The light just hitting it so

That it’s sparkles and catches my eye

Treasure of a moment

Pleasure of a lifetime

Spanning my experience

And raining softly

Upon that good earth

And breathing its warm wind

Like a baby’s first breath

That stops me in my tracks

And suddenly I’m free

For singing

Laughing

Loving

Giving

Man, that’s what I call living.

I think I’m going to perform this at the next Tree Poetry in ottawa, and if I’m not too hungover, at Dusty Owl.  Tree meets the first and forth tuesday of every month and Dusty Owl meets the first and third sunday, but look it up if you want to go in case I’m wrong, it happens and I wouldn’t want to dissappoint anyone

Honour killing

What’s up with that?

You want to kill your daughter?

You lead her down the bridal path

Alternatively slaughter.

She crossed you up

She disobeyed

To top it off

Regularly prayed

How could she be so arrogant?

I own you.

And you have your duty.

In these truths, there’s surely beauty.

After all for generations

This way’s worked the best,

Now suddenly, intuitively

You think it fails the test.

So now you’re morally inflamed

And publicly, we’re so ashamed.

How can we live this down?

We know somehow you’ve been blinded

Seduced into this bloody-minded

Way of being

Not seeing

That our way is of devotion

Supplanted now with your emotion

And thinking for yourself

As though our god intended

In his likeness, us to reason!

Abominations like this are

Tantamount to family treason.

And so you leave me without choice,

Our honour only has one voice,

As I place my hands around your neck,

Or shoot you in the back,

Or drug you before drowning,

See my eyes you see I‘m frowning,

Obviously they tell

the pain I feel in sending

my first daughter off to hell…

I wonder if we’re more alike
than maybe we’ve been guessing
If maybe we’d let down our guard
I know, I know, that would be hard
And see how others see
Then I’d see you
And you’d see me
In a new light differently
and maybe something’s there to find
a spot from which we had been blind
we’re so delicate there you know
in that place we fear to go
but maybe, just maybe,
if we were a little brave
we see a tunnel,
not a cave,
and find us friends
and helping hands
to guide us to that brighter day
bathed in this simple blessing
where we look around and say
I wonder if we’re more alike
than maybe we’ve been guessing

Fashion play

Caraway seeds

Get stuck in teeth

Those fragrant little chunks

The gangs of fashion

Host crimes of passion

For flagrant little punks

But the laughing man what’s up with him?

How’s it all so funny

When Abraham

Wants ham on rye

But he’s short of money

He’s given cash

Presto, in a flash

That shouldn’t seem surprising

When models light the runway

The stock is quickly rising

And the town is all a-buzz

It’s a miracle declared

With thread and satin what he does

We all stood and stared

But Melanie, can never see

Blinded by what makes her free

She so captivating

A strutting perfect specimen

Alfalfa diet regimen

hors d’ouevres of the day

never eating anything

more digestible than hay

for that would be a waste

and leave a bitter aftertaste

But the laughing man, what’s up with him?

Why’s it all so funny?

When he’s destitute outside the door

Begging us for money.

Infomercial

Look at us all happy and fit

Our lives are perfect in every bit

Twisted and transformed

We’re specimens conformed

To the formula of success

That’s driven by excess

Smiling so ridiculous

Standing perpendiculous

On the greatest invention ever

Designed by a team of scientists

(If not enlightened, at least clever)

And hear the man or woman say

What can be accomplished

In just minutes a day

Look at them, lean and hard

hoisted on their own petard.

‘And If you act now

It is my onus

To offer up a one-time bonus

Five easy payments, turns to four

And that’s not all

There’s so much more

There’s also this full-colour booklet

About a miracle diet

Keep it as our gift to you’

(That ought to keep you quiet)

Soon I’m Tarzan

Soon you’re Jane

Made of steel

And without pain

Proudly down the beach you strut

Showing off your sculpted butt

Monogrammed with our initial

And yeah, we know it’s superficial…

But we will make just restitution;

And appoint you as this sector’s agent

In charge of distribution!

Fortunately, yet ironically, the arrival of fall signals the end of a long and rather tedious period and a rebirth of my personal energy.

Ironic, since most people are inspired by summer days, whereas my time to florish is in those darker and longer nights…

here is something I performed last year about this irony… the words are posted below;

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=chdWAIMIzto

Time’s at hand, my dearest friend

Eventually good things must end

Like shimmering leaves in summers day

now shriveled, brown, and blown away

asking is that all there is,

with skies so grey

so rinsed away

 of colour and of contrast

once brightly dyed but fading fast,

so very far from fashion.,

And  love in song,

A long time gone

to warmer lands its flown

leaving melody to sit alone

abandoned and forgotten.

Take heart

Take heart

A paradox lies in these downward slides

to frozen depths, they coincide,

with my delivery

 from slavery,.

Set free

For  I shine  bright

in longer nights,

When  shivering trees

Brought to their knees

lament that cold north wind.

I spread awakened poet-wings

Offered alike to fools or kings

So happy that my spirits lifted

And that the sands have finally shifted

And since my time is now at hand

This; ‘when the sun gets down’.

The ‘far south of the equator’ sound

Will make us dance, and make us laugh

Wholeheartedly and not by half

For me, I’ll be your liberator

Your seasonal affective savior

Only please, next spring return the favor.