point hope

she looked at the bruises the water left and

said – these things remind us that we are breakable

I wanted to tell her if I had just stayed steady

there would have been no marks,

but here I am

not, delicate or flimsy, not quite

breakable. And yet…

the universe likes to remind of me of this periodically

in doctor’s offices, sweet smelling spas and

late at night.

Do you want to jump off that bridge

fall off a cliff

have another drink with me?

Because somehow I maintain

“Cohesion as a single object”.

I haven’t yet split a part.

Frangible.

image

Life doesn’t seem to fit into paragraphs.

“I don’t know whether I kissed you out of love or despair. She replies, No one has ever kissed me before, therefore I cannot tell the difference between love and despair. But at least you must know what you felt. I felt your kiss as the sea feels the wave, if these words have any meaning. I have been waiting for you all these days, asking myself what would happen if you came, I never though that things would turn out like this, but when you walked in here, I realized that kiss you was the only thing I could do, when I said a moment ago that I could not tell whether I had kissed you out of love or despair, if I knew then what I meant, I no longer do. So you feel no despair after all, and no love for me. Every man feels love for the woman he kisses, even if the kiss is one of despair.”

The Year of the Death of Ricardo Reis – Jose Saramago

2015-05-04 20.03.31

Special Weather Statement

“A cool, blustery and unstable flow of air from the Gulf of Alaska

will produce highly variable weather across the British Columbia Coast today.

A mix of scattered rain showers and sunny breaks

will be the rule for the day.

Showers will be heavy at times and may be

accompanied by small hail, possible lightning

and the occasional clap of thunder.”

April is the cruellest month, I hear.

A month of long good byes – it will be

heavy at times (and may be

accompanied by small hail).

Cool, blustery, unstable,

“Here is Belladonna, the Lady of Rocks,

The Lady of Situations.”

Unpredictable, and if I am quiet

these days it is maybe because

I’m unfamiliar with the language of

hope or maybe

I am just trying to figure out

What the thunder said.

2015-03-24 14.06.38

Reckless hearts (or thinking of you Yellowknife)

http://erebusandterror.bandcamp.com/track/reckless-hearts

IMG_3169

Thanks guys, for the reckless hearts. It makes me think of the snow castle roof dripping and trying to learn how to two-step on ice. Mulled wine, glow in the dark water bottles, walking across the lake under the lights. There was that late night in the kitchen, and those times hanging out in the garage. I think about the way I find the smell of smoke on cold air comforting.

It makes me miss being picked up to go out on a snowmobile, and reminds me of how you tried to teach me how to drive a stick on the ice-road. I still can’t drive by the way, and you know I could kind of use a Tim Hortons run.

I miss you all, really, is what I’m trying to say.

Do you need a little darkness to get you going?

The Fourth Sign Of The Zodiac (Part 3)
by Mary Oliver

I know, you never intended to be in this world.
But you’re in it all the same.

So why not get started immediately.

I mean, belonging to it.
There is so much to admire, to weep over.

And to write music or poems about.

Bless the feet that take you to and fro.
Bless the eyes and the listening ears.
Bless the tongue, the marvel of taste.
Bless touching.

You could live a hundred years, it’s happened.
Or not.
I am speaking from the fortunate platform
of many years,
none of which, I think, I ever wasted.
Do you need a prod?
Do you need a little darkness to get you going?
Let me be as urgent as a knife, then,
and remind you of Keats,
so single of purpose and thinking, for a while,
he had a lifetime.

2015-02-13 16.54.45

I don’t know if I ever contemplated fleece pyjamas on a Friday night, talking to a cat named Myra. She’s got a bit of a snaggle tooth and she sits by my head when possible. Today I overheard a Jewish radical reading group discussing, among other things, joy. The man in the knit Yamaka was talking about how we confuse joy with happiness. That happiness is external and joy is something inside of us. Joy as serenity, like those prayers that I know are quietly being sent up to whoever might listen. Joy like a full set of fleece pyjamas and the moon near by. Just these things. Maybe I’m learning to be a little bit quieter. I’ve been trying, I’d like to tell Mary Oliver, trying to belong and be grateful.

“Talking the way I hadn’t, didn’t, don’t – about penguins’ eggs, dentistry, lamp oil, cruelty, theft forgiveness, coming quietly, the possibility of writing on the dark. And we said we were glad that we were alive: more precisely, that we were glad of each other’s lives, if not our own. Which is the way that joy comes in – quietly an din the dark”. A.L. Kennedy – Four Letter Word.

they say it’s me

Coincidence leaves small gifts lying around. This time it was a tube with my name on it, I had forgotten you know.  But there are these little reminders from time to time. Crabs can’t grow in a straight line, so they just have to leave everything behind every once and awhile.

I am stuck in a cloud.

The first Monday in January. Soaking.

(THE FLOATING POEM, UNNUMBERED) – Adrienne Rich

XV

If I lay on that beach with you

white, empty, pure green water warmed by the Gulf Stream

and lying on that beach we could not stay

because the wind drove fine sand against us

as if it were against us

if we tried to withstand it and we failed  –

if we drove to another place

to sleep in each other’s arms

and the beds were narrow like prisoners’ cots

and we were tired and did not sleep together

and this was what we found, so this is what we did –

was the failure ours?

If I cling to circumstances I could feel

not responsible. Only she who says

she did not choose, is the loser in the end. 2013-10-25 12.07.57