Tuesday, April 27, 2010


Two souls
from disparate worlds
the moon wakes up
countless remembrances
distant pasts converge
echoes down corridors
silent footsteps
heard in my head
beating heart's
tymphanum time
echoes of ghosts
sleeping on my right ear
my foreparents hear me
yet their worlds seem
invisible to my waking mind

standing alive again
for me
please come back
stay awhile
I will set up tea
in this time capsule
of a playhouse I have made
the real world
shut outs
(like shut-in's that stay longer
lingering forever
like in the lavender and mothball
vanity tables scented drawers

maybe for all time
or for a streaming minute
in my mind anywaythese things seem to go away
fading fast
not like the fast set
of colours melting together
and blending genes
like tie-dyed tee-shirts
and summers at wasaga
in the kodachrome black and whites
long gone snapshot past expiry date
souls depart earth
quickened souls
quickened eart
quickened heaven
instantaneously made
like purple martinizers
dry cleaned images
that I want to keep

only bones remain now
I imagine that's not all
there's something
calling me back
like elephants returning
to rub the bones of their
departed ancestors
to remember
as to never forget
these things need recall
before we are recalled
to pass along snapshots
neural synapse imprints
springs to mind
shutter cocked
ready to take
a piece wit us
that turns to dust
but not really
if we should keep room
in our keeping room genes
hidden in our spiritual soul keeper
design of unknown emtomology origin
templates of temples
Doric Order
The High Sky ordered
but what if
reflecting pools ordered we do this
recall all this imprint once in awhile
to refresh or reboot
our seared brains
before the yellow leaf
sears other things
like branded X or Y

for humans to claim
memories of long gone
some cold comfort
those departed
persons and memories
holds a tight grip on me
can't let go never no
I will never let go
of our time together

remains unassuming then
worlds recalled evoked
long lost memories shelved
to me now
amazing how
those never telling times
hidden deep within shhhhhh's
these things remain behind the curtain
never to see the light of day
if they should
the dream would fade away
by the bleaching sun
the imprint would evaporate
like hot rising mists from hot summer pavement
after a cooling storm in mid-July

undecipherable rhymes
veils of concrete encased
layers of blot out sheets
bombardments of ramparts
damn it
what happened
to make all this residual stuff
contantly churning the butter
the rancid fish heads
try to remember
and if you remember
than follow...
a earworm again
follow what...
was there a pattern
of what?
was there a pathway
was there a light to follow
who knew? did you know?
or were you kept ignorant
all this lost
these should have beens
gone like no tomorrow
was ever going to come

that's just the way it is
these things seem impossible to change
do these events happen like the colour of your hair
the shape of your head, the things inherited
like neural dischaged patience
generational secrets kept in small spaces
mitochondrial dna
kept hidden secret keepers
lost to the wind blown away
whispers sweet nothings
drowned in the sea's endlessness
lives once lived so alive
extinquished by fires eventually
mortal souls cry
seek to shakeup the long lost lands
laid waste by treating truth like
hide and seek
how many secrets hidden
the kind of secrets that depend on life
now buried with the dead
how many Detroit Times
will tell me what I do not know now
how many stratas removed
will shine light on the truth
these questions too, remain unknownfor a time
until the illogic folds upon itself
the truth outs like a drag queen
who, pray tell, was my great grandfather
the most intelligent in Detroit
is he Dr. William F. Harris
or someone you care not say
since family means compact
tight little lies
when it comes to
finding out my history
finding out where my genes have been
where they should go knowing
maybe theres some genetic
residual effect
to memories and stardust
finding out the big if
who I am?

red rock mysteries
places I've never been
but have seen in dreams
means what? exactly?
maybe just something not described completely
but in part or in thirds definitely not whole enough
not complete, not formed to fullness
all these partitions get in the way
I should petition!

how many
long lost times ago
did the clipper ship
the copper clock horse
the backward big hand
spins round the other way
just as fast
stopped before noon
that OK Corral Time
I'm sitting on the fence again
Where the heck are you?

my half dismount life
how could I get on the horse
how could I get on with life
a life that didn't seem quite right
like missing bolts of time
the fabric was missing
crossed off blocks of calendar days
without a single incident happening
without incidental happenings
without a clue of what to do
because I didnt have a
background story to light
my backfire's motivation to
find the fire in me
the fierceness of being
I wish I could be
but I am
just without the smokey trails
of yesterday's spinning wheels
burning smoke in my eyes
along with the smell of burnt rubber
and guys hotrods squealing out of
Saunders parking lot at noon
trying not to get caught
when time seemed to stop

I wanted to stay behind
to finish an exam or two
never to complete
in terminal examroom
one foot on the horse
one foot on the ground
never visualizing completion
of neatly hung and framed diplomas
license to for suck air
melting like hot butter
on the walled hallway
bells never stop ringing

Copper Blanche
that filly fine
sits on the mantel of my mind
put away in the history's
time keeper's box
pushed back
somewhere inbetween
Amherstburg and Windsor
as items in the 'rents breezeway
torn through like a tornado
blow around and get rusted
(I'll call Rusty)
without acid rain bitterness
and before Sarnia blob
the cadillac remains
permanently parked
in the driveway
and my grandfather is there again
come back to life like he was never gone
a ghost rider in the calm
the thunderstorms now distant sounding
collecting dust speckles in sunlight
let in this world where we try to ignore
when those who have changed form
want to communicate but we ignore
invisible words
and worlds lost to our senses
the smells of future springs
we havent made senses of these yet

dandelions gone to seed
not bad seed
good seed needing tending
the grass needs cutting
blowin' in the wind
dream catchers spin
something falls from a chair
someone is visiting
from the "crossing over" show
and santa claus' wishes remain
sent back to the north pole
with a puff of bellowed breath
from a chest full of hope and dreams
silent prayers to the maker

these reclaiming powers
in the field of what if's
charmed by possibilities
maybe I may have been if's
never has beens
but what if it had been?
long lost found
a bean of Jack's sprout
Dora's Delarosa revisited
begot by a long list of unknowns begun-ins
pivotal players in this game of life
that keeps living a vital part
actors on loan to a long dead rocker
characters all play their parts
step into the roles we play
like a straight-jacket costume
or any costume really
is that really what was ordered
or something given to wear
or something made to wear
or something forced to wear
I am sure I did not order
one of these roles
but got to play one anyway
by default
or proxy
not by my
direct order
of making what
I wanted from this given
not directly to me
but somehow, and through osmosis
i got what I was given like it or lump it
and I got to make the best of the lesserness
of all it has become
by believing what I was told
and that was not entirely honest
maybe a lie?

Because we are Great
given that knowledge
understanding that knowledge
living that knowledge
should have made us something
and yet held in the constant ebayance drawer
like a flood about to let loose
our lives suddenly become forefront
the yin/yang balance held up by
some force or other
unknown kind
unkind known
kindness now
immediately takes over my life
all that residual held back flow
all is go
all knows where to go
finally now

After thinking for years
somethings got to give
it is going to me
I will give and give and give
and when and if I should
be so lucky
for the tables to turn
for the turn of the dial
for a spin in the golden cadillac
something more should be by now
like floating cars and mind thought mobility
and three wishes
(trick: always keep your last wish for another three wishes)

a memory locked-on
and loaded
forever encapsulated
Apollo capsules
now a distant dreams
past glories seemed possible until
something called no said i couldnt
was it me or something I thought was me
and how would I know the difference?

fleeting link
all too fast
these things
i forgot to write down
once was stable crib
unchangeable diapers
unmoveable pins
now like done dinner
loose change
loosed upon earth
freely accepted loss
as if for the good
as empty just seems
so flat and shallow
so to the place where
all these convergent strings
meet at the godhead near the school
upon the earth placement
to all parts scattered
fine particulate of matter

me sitting on the fence
eating an orange dreamsicle
Billy Jean's at my door
maybe Uncle Albert too
all long gone but remain still
as I welcome them in to stay
the only ghost keeper house
on the block
these old friends
never go away
these old friends
always want to stay
these old friends
like this old house of mine
and I don't have to write all the time
Aunt Tine, Uncle Urban
Grandma, Grandpa both patrilineal and
nursed by time for a time and then forever
peering from these gamma inversed worlds
that only I can see
me and John Edwards

picture this;
on a seagull'd standing rock
Allenwood Beach
summertime 65
a part not wanted but taken
a misplaced mugwump
a young girl
split tooth grin
one piece bathing suit
strap half down arm
that's me looking back at me
energies reflect back
and back and back and back
going up and down
the rna
collecting Archie comics
in stacks
Graperoo gum eater tongue
Halcyon Days and
endless summer
whipoorwills twilight songs
sunset and sunrise
awaken me to eternity
when remembering these things
these people
these places
these times
these mind spaces

when did I get that
Ootpik from Eaton's
Simpson's or SearsI know it was from
my sister
I wanted to go to JC Penney to get
big all day suckers
as I had seen when I could
escape to the States
in these wonderfully magical places
like almost somewhere I'd been in dreams
deja vu could be
a blip in all this converging
energy of time and space
for how long?
Boblo Island is long gone
the trip with
only knew him til I was 10
A fading memory I want to keep
but how, so few tokens kept
where's his voice I can no longer remember?

although that chilly hand
puts me back there in an instant
when something should come from behind
the wispy fake spiderwebs over my face
how creepy that old
Haunted House ride
my neckhair still stands on end
the spine still chills
instanteously recalled
horrors of fun
what about sublime memories
rather than remorse
where do they go where will they end?
did I pass all these memories to whom?
or do we all keep each other memories
unbeknownst to ourselves, places and things

loss when i recall all that all those
sinking gut feelings
how to express emotion?
by triggering something
that reminds you of something else
close to that something
but not quite the same
but you can use that indelible
memory to remember the thing close to it
pnemonics and ancient Greek thing
in this way we imprint the most
Drama Queen
the rest remain deep in the subconscious
at rest
to remember we need to remain calm and conscious
then we can become
the fully functioning brain
the perfectly functioning form

the evocation of eclipse
my folks evacuated
like a time vacuum
before a chapter
could be closed
another opened
continuing the constant
turning of many pages
from many different books at once
the eons of ones and zeros
all adds up
with endless pi-r-squared
endless number means we're in this
for the long haul journey
did you pack a lunch?

yours and mine
life like a cross between
these two worlds
which have just begun
to intersect
new worlds emerge
to change the old
down the rickety
past the vacant
old lane
with the fitful
barn swallows


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