Calls

Voiceless calls

Comfortable emptiness
Lonely frustration
Eyes blind away

Empty voice in a crowd
Games of strategy
Lost on me
Eyes blinded

Frustration dilemma
Creep out with inconstancy
Calls in the night
Blocked calls from overseas

Looking forward
To the end
When normal
Is complacency

Sitting on a dock

Sitting on the dock

Watching the wind whisper
Colors at sunset
Fishing goes all around
Growing old alone
Would rather
I could have
Life goes on
People ask
Canned answer
Sitting on a dock
Listening to rhythm
Waves tell a story
Splashing the cement
Spelled out in rain drops
Sitting on a dock
Freezing over with desire
Would rather
I could have
A line in the sand
Too late to cross over

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aAJfhZamFmo&feature=player_embedded

this was written after listenning to the above

Wide open

Wide open
Word smith that
Sleepless nights

Weird dreams
Fictionist reality
Wondering ideals

Willing pick ups
Cranium affect
Motives concealed

Wild imaginations
Challenge unanswered
Internal happiness enteric


Wide open
Mind will change
Window closed

Wondering narratives’
Wicked ideals
Wind swiped

TELL ME A STORY

Tell me a story

That won’t make you cry
That makes you reminisce
think back without regard

Tell me a story
That makes you sweat
About a time when everything was fine
Not just a line

Tell me a story
Were honesty was the byline
And people could stand by
With what was said

Tell me a story
About the future
Without dread
Were drama is a section to be read

Tell me a story
Not about the dead
But about those that lived
And will be remembered

Tell me a story
That makes you smile
About happy ending
An internal bliss

Tell me story
Without regard
That makes you sweat
Recollect with giggles

Tell a story
About us and we
And leave out I and me
A challenged undone


Tell a story
About the future
With smiles and
A line to be filled in


Tell me a story without trepidation
A story with happy ending
Internal bliss
And only fear is what to pick for dinner

Bliss

Bliss

Taste of heaven in a drop of rain
Colours of the sky
Wind combing once hair
Giggles of children
Blankets of snow
Frost in the trees
Sand between the toes
Waves slapping the beach
Smell of breakfast
Uncontrolled laughter
Running between the fields
Sharing with family
True friends
Freedom to choose
Touch

Random drama

Random drama
Performance art
Cogitation deliberation
Filiation dispute
Ascendance merely a fancy
Translation lost
On the ones that count
Images defined
Facts blurred in rhetoric
Threats and intimidation
Coercion merely a tool
Giving up the goal
Never is eternity
One second can be perpetuity
Time without end
Even performance art ends
Smile

Everyone has a story

Everyone has a story

Everyone lies
Facts misguided

Floats away in the tide
No one cares
Everything goes to dust

Units to measure
Against the fantasy
Reality crumbles

On the periphery
Peaking in
Shadows in the dark

Echoes refined
Believable
That time

Oxymorons

Oxymorons
Happy endings
Only in fiction
Reality can be harsh
Life is hell
With heaven on the side
Life on a plate
Not all plates are round
Looking over ones shoulders in time
Reflections on the mind
Looking towards the future
With nothing but a smile
Drinking from a glass half full
Stubbornness is optional
Reborn to debt
A prairie oasis
Opportunity

Testing patience

Testing patience



Gun metal clouds
Azure blue above
Brown eyes gone
Blue looks on

Arctic water through my veins
Hope gone with burnt amber
Shadows in the grays
Rhymes with slays

The scene in the depths of winter
Moisture wind driven
No water in the snow
A thirst unquenched

Time stands still
Brush in hand
Painting winter
In the heat of the afternoon

Ice tea by the canvas
Bikini walk by guarded
Questions unasked
Tossed in the sand

Indifference

Indifference

Apathy to name
Unresponsiveness to their actions
Lack of sympathy to their options
Lack of interest and concern to what
Lethargy to her name
Lassitude to hearing what she doing

Looking forward to the end
To starting fresh
From new beginning

That to a message at 3:30 AM
I am indifferent
I really don’t care
Shamed that people see her
And need to call me

Looking forward
To something fresh
With someone new
Sadden that three will hear about it

From their friends at school
But it not the children’s fault
Children don’t choose their parents
Looking forward
To the end
To beginning anew

Indifference
Is the only word
When thinking about that line
And saddened for three

random writing just for fun

Tinker was a dealer spreading her vices and calling it magic dust which made 40 year olds feel like they were five years old and invisible. The Captain had been trying to capture her for decades. The people of the force believed that the captain was hooked on her. Tinker was famous to the donut crowd as she seemed to float in and then just melt into the throng of people whether at a mall or the state fare.


There were rumors that tinker and Captain Bell had been married at one time but no one seemed to know for sure. One thing for sure was the captain wanted the dust to be stopped and the dealers put away for a long time. Tinker was at the top of the list and Detective Pan was assigned to go under cover in an effort to investigate. Pan was a new agent and an unknown quality in this city. Some said he is an adrenaline junkie who is crazy for speed and anything with a board. Kite boarding in winter and summer as well as surfing and skiing. The photos on his desk confirmed the rumors. I was his new partner and would be his only contact when he went undercover in the weeks to come. The Hook wanted us to get to know each other on an out of bounds experience in Vancouver Canada and then from there to Whistler. A team building experience with adrenaline and black diamond runs tossed in for fun. All this and make contact with Detective Chia of the Vancouver Police service and Detective Morgan of the RCMP who both had been tracking Tinkers operations in Canada. What a starting point for a new story.

Today however was the last time I would be able to hang at the beach as I was moving all my belonging into an apartment. Married life was over and a two bedroom box was my new home. Strangely I was looking forward to it. A fresh start and a new job yet still a box. Things that make you think back to the days. I had got all my things from my old house. Amy was there trying to argue with her new friend and our old family doctor. Life can be interesting but thinking back no one has that many physicals.

I am out now and in the new apartment. I look at the white walls and white cabinets. What am I in a hospital? The phone rings and Pan says I am down stairs get your rigging on we are hitting the waves.

Nice! I trip to the church of Mother Nature. The waves will wash my soul this day.

Every day is Beautiful

every day is beautiful
every day is a picture
every day is special

one needs to look
to see the beauty
to frame the picture
to feel special

every day costs
every day one baby step
every day a fine memory

one pays the cost of time
a step into the future
one step at a time
a memory so fine

every day builds on the last
every day a song to be written
every day brings the sun

concrete and glass built
on the foundation of a day
listen to Mariza sing chuva
as the sun tickles’ on the horizon

every day one step closer
every day a single breath
every day the rhythm of sand

the clouds Know

The clouds know

They see the world
Stories they tell
Reflected in their sorrow
Twisted shapes ever changing
Dancing to the rhythm of the stars
The sky their dance floor
If the clouds know the truth
Cellos would be their sound
Listen to the distance
Feel it in your soul
As the electricity
Changes colours
Light bends to a beat
Concerto at midnight

Farewell

Farewell

Sadness in the word
Whispers can be heard
Distances carried on the lips of a whisper
Silent words heard in land far away
Canvas tugging by the wind
Tacking in a direction
Not meant to be

Listen to the rain
It s rhythm true
Slapping the pane
Wind brushes through

Nature has a way
Manner sublime
Blended a technique
More real then dreams

Savage and enthusiastic
Just as you think no more
Karma put her words in
Gives a what for
And how about that

Stronger or just hanging
Drained or is that it
Karma laughs
The wind picks up

BALL ON A HILL

Ball on a hill
Which valley will it choose?
Intangible flutters
The effect of butterflies
On a ball

Like a boy on a rock
Which way will he fall?
Years later
What is the result?

Looking back
Would the boy choose?
A different valley
Or a different mountain

On summit 50 miles from home
Water azure blue
Reflected cobalt off the Ray Bans
Grizzlies’ playground


Home a nomadic town
On the edge of wilderness
1000 miles north of a boundary
In country far away

Rolled to a valley on a prairie
Winds pushed me this far
No ties but history
Water rusted like whiskey

The trail filled with regard
Recollections postcard images
Ball on a mountain
Butterfly flutters

Hora Decina

Hora Decina
Naiveté Imaginable
Eyes an interesting colour
Arctic rain
Myriad of wonders
Sad Portuguese Ballads
Off in the near distance
Encapsulates the effect
Fermented grapes
Bipolar symmetry
Uncorrupted amusement
Watching the butterflies
Conveyance disguised
Soigné air
Quel Horreur!
Predictable
Evanescent arc

PAINTED IN THE CLOUDS

Imagery painted in the clouds
Baking in the sun
Soaking up the D
Each cloud looks different
Telling its own story
Like Rorschach’s blots
Each a window
Cold water splash
Refreshing a little
Giggles from Jem
Heavens methods
Are dramatic
As fools are to mind
Imagery painted
Highlights in shadows
Empty words bound
Strategies lost
All painted
In Rorschach’s clouds

Façade chiseled

Façade chiseled

Under marble waiting
For the meaning to be clear
Challenged to look deeper
Even that is clear
Meaning within meaning
A circus fun house trick
Distorting reality just a little bit
A challenge to be rejoiced in
Yet they are beyond gone
An artist missed with his hammer
The crack going very profound
Master piece to rubble on the floor
Chiseled marble
Hidden gems
Something’s are just a façade
A work in progress
The meaning clear

Without End

Without end
Cheerful laughter in another room
Slicing the silence
Spiraling through the heavens
Eagles soar
Butterflies flutter
Children toss stones
Narratives in folklore
Retold in coffee bars
Reprieved from the depths
The sound deafening to a deaf man
Blinding to the sighted
Staring in shock
Footsteps in the sand
Ghosts haunting memories
Lingering long pasted reason
Artistic thought of the edge
Pushing conventions
Limited from within
Without end
Laughter echoes

one second

One second

Less than one second
Can change everything
Be in a place than it all gone
New normal
Little death of memories
Forward motion wondering
In the moon light
Pondering and philandering
Interpolating endless wishes
One second from happiness
Everything change in less than a second
Chance meeting over the horizon
Familiarity encounter
Painted on smiles
War paint so thick
True faces stand out
Differentiating from illusions
Everything changes
Time heals all except regret
Warm regards in soup
In less than a second
It still matters
Thoughts are empty
On the other side
One second from bereavement
A loss without end
Tick
Tock
Tick
Tock
Eyes in the distance
And smile

Metaphorically alone

Metaphorically alone

A ghost left to drift
In the remaining years
The night without fear
Arm stretched wide hoping
Dreams haunted in flicking light
Vast undulating clouds
Sunlight slashing in the gathering storm
Silhouettes against the background
Boiling clouds tossing
Distant thunder floating in
Divine spectacle unleashed
Thin material folding
Filigreed with rust
A syndical alone on a point
Guarding the whispers in the wind
Only words lost in the fog

Temperature hot

Temperature hot
Can see my breath
Rising
Road ahead
Looks like water
Am I wrong?
To desire what is right
Hear the words
Good intentions grating
Road solid water
Frozen in memories
Van Gogh painted yellow
Cut the voices out
Someone else painted
His screams
Am I wrong to want?
What is right?
Hear the words
Grating intentions burn
Walking
Past all the yellow fields
Steam rises
Like breathing in the heat
A trick in hindsight

“Are you okay”

“Are you okay”

The message was
Broken down
Answer was silence
Silence amongst the noise
Shadows of grey
No words for it
Staring into the sun
Shining off the rocks
Black hole
Burning in
Silence is the answer
Your desire to know
Impatience
Silence ignored
Disregarded and unseen
Silent scream
In a box
Recycled

Imprinted

Some stories are meant,
to stay at the table
Like the water stains,
from a cold drink
Wiped away and forgotten
Some stories are meant,
only for a few
Over wings and a brew
Some stories are never told
Because they are to informative
Or no one can hear the narrative
Some stories end on a hill
In a sudden stop
In clouds of dust
Driven to an end
By a split second
Some stories go on
From memories departed
Souls imprinted

One among so many

Pebbles in the sand

One among so many

Red, white or black

How does one stand out

Among the many

The tide will come

Toss and wash

Pull some away

Deposit others in the way

Yellow, gray and blue

One among so many

What attracts one to a pebble?

One among so many

In a sea of pebbles

Before it is picked up

Looked at with delight

And subsequently tossed to the deep

I believe

God wants us for his or her reasons alone
And decides
I believe

we are all on the list
it is who and how
we touch people
when we are here that
makes the difference
I believe

the good touch the most
in the best way
and are missed the most
I believe and

he will be missed
Can you and I be missed?
Like he
I believe

In the shadow of three

Walking alone

Under the shadow of three

Happily

Wishing to be a family

Just decipherable strangers

Don’t cry

Don’t shed a tear

Smile for me inside

I was happy

Walking alone to the horizon

At sunset and sunrise

Only fifty miles one way

Pulled under by quick sand

Centered on a beach

Isolated in a crowd

Don’t discard a tear

Laugh out loud

Three Words

Three words
can mean the world
can turn the world around
can have more energy than any storm
can warm ones soul to the bone

the number three
perfect shape
the best of me

three words can over come
if said by some one
the product of time
being ready to listen
to trust instincts

three words can be
whispers in the wind
in some one does no trust

canvas painted over
trusting instincts
when fangs a bare
just three little words
can change the world

water was warm

Water was warm
Three were walking the sandbar
Out to the point
Looks like they were half way across
Walking on the water
Three souls giggling
The water glass
Reflecting a perfect sunset
Fishing boats floating in tranquility
Three voices crying out in delight
Take our picture
Snap and the phone rings
Back to reality

The sculpture

Sitting on a park bench
As the seasons pass
Extremes
Ice covered to melting
Overlooking the lake
On a dock looking west
Seeing the sunset nightly
Kaleidoscope of colors
And life’s banquettes
Thunder and lightning overhead
Rhythm in everything
From the waves splashing
To the rain falling
And the snowflakes floating
To the adrenaline junkies
The sound of the waves
Crashing the old timbers
Soaking everything
Including this bench
I am sitting on
Sometimes people
Sit here by me as well
Including three children
Who have grow now
And bring their children
To sit by me too
Three years I have sat here
It is time to walk
Bronze walking sculpture
Will any one notice

statue

If I were a statue
Impatient stone
Mercenary rules
Looking at the world
Without blinking
A stare past all
To the horizon
Made of marble
A design pure
The only flaw
Not waiting any more
Chiseled away by time
An hour glass to eternity
History hoping to the future
As cars blast by
Fields of yellow mustard
Water mud brown
A statue with blood shot eyes
lost in time
Made of marble
With one flaw
Chipped away with impatience