Saturday, August 29, 2009

sea dreams

sea dreams

dark starless skies loom
weaving a fretful night of shades and shadows
one can sense the fish in their schools
making their ill-fated deep sea run for freedom
while on shore
rocks wait patiently
for the rain above the tide lines

the sea waves a timeless greeting
whispered conversation and deep secrets
an embrace and kiss farewell
melancholic tears stain the rain
the ship in the bottle
and illusions of a dream.

Friday, August 28, 2009

my dinosaurs

The monitor screens glow…the clicks of micro circuits barely perceptible… the hard drives switch over… a fan starts… the CD players is on… just before the music begins there is a static crackle… then the sound… I am silent at that moment, fingers hovering over the keys… anticipation…

Books are scaly dinosaurs climbing the wall with evolutionary intent escaping their revolutionary ways… messenger RNA knocks at the door where in another time the pizza delivery person will stand… their rictus grins in statuary dignity… you were here they tell me… your eyes glancing across their hidden secrets… your fingers tantalizingly brushes their spines… you were here in blindness… a mute amongst my demoniac cabal…

The Muse On Line is plugged in…
the past is present…
the future an immutable possibility on the edge of eternity…
if I open the window shall I soar into the thermals…
there to scrape against the frozen face of the sky…
across the icy altitudes...
to gaze down in forgetfulness…

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Who I follow in poetry

His name is Mubarakin and what he writes sometimes just grips me.

Is it diamonds and gold
in the rainbow folds
or just the tears of angels?

If hell fire's hot
then is heaven cold,
is there any weather?

Are we standing around
on sacred ground,
do we have any choices?

Do bells peal the news
to the Cathedral pews,
or can it come on voices?

For more of his works he writes at Pan Historia.

Sunday, August 23, 2009


You know the debate is not really about Health Care, Gay Marriage, Equality, Foreign Policy or any of the other myriad of handy dandy catch phrase issues that the every day citizen is grappling with. There is no debate or discussion going on and there has not been for a long long time. All civility displayed is a false veneer waiting for the snapping point to arrive. This is the Hate nurtured at the breast of the Left/Right divide of the Politics of Fear.

The Ecstasy of War has come home to roost. The War on Terror, The War on Drugs, The War on Drunk Drivers, The War on What-Ever-You-Like amid the threats of reasonable cause for fear. The poison pours out of the media and pollutes the minds… Good versus Evil! This is Religion. This is a wholly made in America Jihad.

“Give Me Victory or Give Me Death (preferably yours)

This is the Cancer of creeping mendacity permitted to go unchecked, the secretion of secrecy; this is the Serpent amid the Flock while the calls of Wolf ring out in panic. When the importance of truth was surrendered I shall leave to historians, but suffice it to say that truth has long since been abandoned for Position, Wealth and Power.

This is, from abroad, the American Way. Truth and Justice abandoned for Victory regardless of the cost. In this the cost shall be the whole of it. All. Everything.

I can think of no better symbolism than that of an American Ragnarök.



by Micha F. Lindemans

Ragnarok ("Doom of the Gods"), also called Gotterdammerung, means the end of the cosmos in Norse mythology. It will be preceded by Fimbulvetr, the winter of winters. Three such winters will follow each other with no summers in between. Conflicts and feuds will break out, even between families, and all morality will disappear. This is the beginning of the end.

The wolf Skoll will finally devour the sun, and his brother Hati will eat the moon, plunging the earth [into] darkness. The stars will vanish from the sky. The cock Fjalar will crow to the giants and the golden cock Gullinkambi will crow to the gods. A third cock will raise the dead.

The earth will shudder with earthquakes, and every bond and fetter will burst, freeing the terrible wolf Fenrir. The sea will rear up because Jormungand, the Midgard Serpent, is twisting and writhing in fury as he makes his way toward the land. With every breath, Jormungand will stain the soil and the sky with his poison. The waves caused by the serpent's emerging will set free the ship Naglfar, and with the giant Hymir as their commander, the giants will sail towards the battlefield. From the realm of the dead a second ship will set sail, and this ship carries the inhabitants of hell, with Loki as their helmsman. The fire giants, led by the giant Surt, will leave Muspell in the south to join against the gods. Surt, carrying a sword that blazes like the sun itself, will scorch the earth.

Meanwhile, Heimdall will sound his horn, calling the sons of Odin and the heroes to the battlefield. From all the corners of the world, gods, giants, dwarves, demons and elves will ride towards the huge plain of Vigrid ("battle shaker") where the last battle will be fought. Odin will engage Fenrir in battle, and Thor will attack Jormungand. Thor will be victorious, but the serpent's poison will gradually kill the god of thunder. Surt will seek out the swordless Freyr, who will quickly succumb to the giant. The one-handed Tyr will fight the monstrous hound Garm and they will kill each other. Loki and Heimdall, age-old enemies, will meet for a final time, and neither will survive their encounter. The fight between Odin and Fenrir will rage for a long time, but finally Fenrir will seize Odin and swallow him. Odin's son Vidar will at once leap towards the wolf and kill him with his bare hands, ripping the wolf's jaws apart.

Then Surt will fling fire in every direction. The nine worlds will burn, and friends and foes alike will perish. The earth will sink into the sea.

After the destruction, a new and idyllic world will arise from the sea and will be filled with abundant supplies. Some of the gods will survive, others will be reborn. Wickedness and misery will no longer exist and gods and men will live happily together. The descendants of Lif and Lifthrasir will inhabit this earth.


As a poet the symbolism of Sarah Palin (pit bull with lipstick) and the Wolves is inescapable. Where more likely than from the frozen wastes of Alaska? Micha F. Lindemans description of Ragnarök is easily super-imposed upon the current state of American Political and Social affairs.

why I am not writing

An apprehensive looms across the horizon and I go walking through the roses… late August blooms and the blushing of the hips… the cool dew beneath my feet hints at frosts to come… the morning is poetry if you look at it right… the quiet solitude, hot mug of tea and time for reflection…

I often wonder if I make the right the decisions…

We have had a friend staying with us and many conversations seem to turn to past lives… who we were before we are who we are… the memories that we have and more the shards of memories that are not complete… like little pieces of glass just waiting to be stepped on… Laura listens quietly… taking it in and asking penetrating questions… leaping along the threads to grasp the entire picture.

My creative writing has all dried up again… and though I have ideas, then the lethargy of ennui takes hold. I realize that I want something different but I can not define it enough to ask for it.

Thursday, August 20, 2009


Shopping went flawlessly and a few days at a summer resort aided the soul.

Been attacking a longer poem while I was on the road and remarkably I was able to read most of my own printing. Not too shabby that though the word processor is telling me that the poem is seven pages long… maybe just a little too wordy to post at one.

Getting really pissed off at the “debate” (more like children fighting) coming from south of the border over health care. Weird that… I don’t understand why they are behaving that way at all…

Glad to be back and reading up on all that I missed while away. It was not easy at first to leave all the electronics behind, but it was a good idea to be totally absent for a while to refresh and recharge the soul.

And now dear friends, once more into the breach…

Friday, August 7, 2009

A Mother's Passing

I spend a good portion of my free writing time online at which is a form of Community based upon writing play as it were. The opportunities for both creative writing and social writing are amazing. Once in a while events occur in people’s lives which touch us all, for that is the nature of empathy and friendship.

This morning, a friend’s mother passed on. Though I grieve with her for the loss, I rejoice in the strength and compassion that she shared with me of the love between people.


Because you have shared with us, and with me, I would like to express what that means to me. Though I never met your mother, I too have been touched by the power of the love that you two shared. It is a bond that even in passing can not be broken. I can not understate what a beautiful thing it was that you did for your mother, and in that to know what a beautiful person your mother must have been to have been so well reflected in you. Mere words are all I have… and I give them to you freely in thanks for your sharing of that beauty.

She nurtured in the soft failing light
with dignity and gentle grace
And there in heart she brought forth love
which shone as bright as to displace
the shadows of the coming night.

A touch of sorrow and muted loss,
how empty seems the heart at last
Yet love does yet draw forth the light
for in my heart I hear her laugh
beyond the shadows of the night.

From you who learned the art of love
compassion forged with dignity
Whose strength of love speaks testament
have shared your mother’s love with me
to push against the edge of night.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Going on the road...

Simcoe Day long weekend was a gas... picnics and beaches were great... and that leads to the big surprise announcement… I shall be going shopping. Big news as we shall be taking to the road for a week or so and heading into the heartland of Quebec. As a French speaking Canadian it is like going home, though I was raised outside of Quebec. This leads me to be able to speak fluently, though I can not read nor write in French properly. It is amusing to be illiterate in my mother tongue.

So naturally I will be off line during this since I have promised to be social and go to clubs at night. Jen has already made an appointment for me at a dressmaker so there is great promise in that. Montreal for shoes, Quebec City for a dress… I am very excited about this. More so, I know that Jen is. Maybe this time we shall go through Ottawa. That shall be up to the driver. I am the passenger.

Spent the day loading in the chips of music for the trip. Looks like a lot of Bob Dylan, Neil Young and Joni Mitchell this time.