Category Archives: Poetry In Motion

Words ‘n stuff

‘Twas The Half-Day Before Christmas

‘Twas the half-day before Christmas, because we’d all slept in. Outside it was icky, and chilly with wind.

The oldest was back east, with his wee family growing, while we’d legged it westbound, no choice in the going.

With Mum in her new-do, and Me caffeinating, the kiddos are at various stages of waking.

The cat is a’-prowling, like a leader so glorious, leaving for us, her remnants so odorous.

Ensconced in our new digs, its old bones protecting, we’d planned for the shut in no one was selecting.

Laundry is launder-ing, there’s lunch ’round the bend. Most keepings of house is nearing the end.

There’s eggnog, and boxes and various things, to keep us all busy til the fat sleigh bell rings.

Our usual festivities ahead of us lie, potatoed together as Hans Gruber flies.

With all that has happened, from early til now, we timidly watch the days counting down.

The horizon is littered with hopeful good stuff, and all we can do now is push past the rough.

So gather together, but separate, let’s say. And celebrate as we do. For This Is The Way.

From our house, to your house, we wish you good cheer. Merry Christmas to all, and a Happy New Year.

‘Twas Some Hours Before Christmas

‘Twas some hours before Christmas, the yard muddy-green.
Our wood stove was crackling, and most rooms were clean.

With two elders out working, and the rest layin’ low,
the afternoon slid by watching “That 70’s Show”.

With Mom making headwear, and me being on-call,
the plan was to eat, and watch, and generally sprawl.

The cat got a new toy, a pink fluff for lazy,
that caused her to temporarily go spastic and crazy.

The puppers are flaked out, and sawing up logs
but most of the time they are barky-bark dogs.

The youngest keeps tabs on the fat guy in red,
as Daughter Dearest is styling Mother Dears head.

While Number Four snorts at the jokes on the show,
the litres of tea that I’ve drunk starts to flow.

We’re chillin’ out, maxin’, relaxin’ all cool.
Theres a couple of weeks til they go back to school.

Until then, however, it’s time for the Famdamly Unit.
The fighting, the wrestling, the true Christmas Spirit.

There’s eggnog, and popcorn and all kinds of lights,
and nary a dusty bunny anywhere in sight.

This year’s been tricky. A humdinger for sure.
Sickies, and late nights and a financial cure.

But here near the end, where the time winds away,
Just being together, and happy, is okay.

So be excellent to each other, and party on dudes,
To do so otherwise, is simply just rude.

It’s the season, as always, so let’s just be clear:
Merry Christmas to all, and a Happy New Year

Twas The ‘Noon Before Christmas

‘Twas the ‘noon before Christmas, the sky colours swishin’.
Die Hard was playing, as was the tradition.

With famdamly gathered, in rooms made for living,
seasonal pjs unboxing, the first gifts a-giving.

Steaks had been grilled on the bbq with care,
with mash-ed potatoes and broccoli to pair.

With I in my work kit, and Mom holding fort,
the junior mint kiddos focused on Christmas-y sport.

When elsewhere and else when, what did arise?
Nothing, nada – no Holiday Surprise.

You see, aside from my work week, this year’s quite the breeze.
No trips, no upsets, just tranquility – yes please

So early we scooched together on cushions,
to nosh away on pre-festive rations.

Tomorrow will bring Christmas #2 in our own home.
Another year passes, and too quickly for some.

For now we’ll take quiet, the odd 12 hr stretch,
over anything that might resemble emotional fetch.

There’s too much bad news. Fake news – whatevs!
So tune out the Nancy’s who lament the Negs!

As I sit here scribing this years entry in blogs I don’t manage,
I think of the many years without such advantage.

We’re happy. We’re healthy and most importantly – together.
There is so much less we could have, I could go on forever.

Instead ‘tis the season to spread joy, mirth and cheer.
So Merry Christmas to all, and a Happy New Year!

Dank Means

Todays post is phoned in.

My computer is waiting for a new battery, so I’m using my phone. Be grateful I’m a caereful editor.

In the past few weeks, the tone of communications amongst human interfacers has continued its downward trend from hostile to beligerently unyielding. As I twist backwards in position with my literary broom of sweeping generalizations, I also take note of the random assortment of bullshit that inevitably floats to the top.

In a time when we should be uniting, we are torn. In all possible ways, we seek to injure, maim, or at the very least cajole into obedience with fierce repost and vigilant meming. The view is flat and unimaginative. No amount of humour from the land of Milk and Lumber can assuage the bitter pill of a spiteful news feed.

Careful and reasoned debate seems to hold no interest. The shrill call of our electronic sheep splashes out at us, and newsy noisemakers and floozy fakers dominate our earballs. We don’t get no respect. 

Seek not a solution within these passages. I am as much a part of this herd mentality as anyone. I wish I could point to a friendlier sky to fly to, where we can all be united in contentment and say “Be Well”. But I can’t. Not with this attitude.

Maybe it’s not about the have nots/will nots/can nots. Perhaps I should just do. Or do not. Because there is no trying to be better. There either is. Or there is not.

Don’t start nothin. Won’t be nothin.

Ain’t that the truth.

Fahrenheit 457

I had intended to take a few days off after my last scintillating post.

That was 457 days ago.

I was not captured by Fae Folk, nor was I waylaid watching a lazy game of chess, played by two sleepy giants on a hill side, while the decades fell away around us. I wasn’t even that far from my computer. I just…. I just had no words to share.

In my absence, new life has come to Planet Earth. Great hopes have become grave concerns, and the impossible, it seems, became reality. Yet I still had nothing of benefit to say.

A change of perspective, and a new home, followed by a new sense of purpose, have all provided me with positive developments. I am richer for the challenges and opportunities they all bring. I am, at the very least, where and with whom I want to be: my family.

So why now?

I had wanted to try to write a novel for some time, so back in the fall I took a course, and roughed out an outline. To be honest, it is a silly story, but it is, I think, uniquely me. But it stalled. I left it, not sure of where to go next.

So here I am again. For no other reason TODAY than because I felt the need to, I am here writing something. Anything. To get the ball rolling, and maybe keep it going.

There is so much to distract and divide us on the airwaves, in our periphery, on our minds, each and every day, that carving out a few minutes for quiet reflection seems somewhat impossible. The world seems bent on reminding us in a multitude of ways why everything and everyone sucks. It’s shameful and exhausting. And I need to focus on better things.

So for better or for worse, here I go again. I can only hope this flicker becomes a flame. That I can stand the heat and stay, sweating and heaving in this kitchen of my own design. That I have what it takes to keep the home fires burning. Even now, the glowing embers of my ambition whisper with the force of a thousand voices, telling me to keep writing; keep going. To keep shaping and forging the sacred and the wounded words that float in and out of my heart and mind, into the sharpened philosophy of my so called life.

If I don’t, then life will carry on. The world will turn. And only I will be left holding this smoldering ball.

Game On.

The Eve Before Christmas

The Eve Before Christmas

‘Twas the Eve before Christmas, A Thursday this time.
The Netflix was chilling, with Frosty-ful rhyme.

The floors have been clean-ed, or so I am told,
And the laundry will one day, be ready to fold.

The Newton-Rath Younglings, from squirtly to Teen,
are louder than Motley, bare-chested and keen.

With Mom packed with peanuts, And I two drinks in,
It was finally looking like a big Christmas win.

When down in the basement, my mind did go wander,
To the exploits of earlier, memories not fonder.

You see, laundry machines, they don’t kick on their own.
They wait, just like pirates, Til’ everyone’s home.

So early we gathered, the girl and us boys,
to look upon washers, not washing – no joy.

From Canex to elsewhere, flew eldest and me,
to find a replacement swirl-swirly GE.

It’s sorted, we got one, so don’t fret a smidge.
It’s not like we had to go find a new fridge.

Smitty’s the man, at least in our neck,
We hauled it ourselves, but it was cheaper by heck.

So here we’re all sat, ’round the tube for a bite.
My lovelies are bigger, but all just as bright.

Our clothes will be laundered, Our hearts will be light,
So to all a Merry Christmas And to all A Good Night

Humane Society

So the world is going to shit, if you haven’t noticed.

Conflicting reports regarding the treatment by and of Syrian refugees flooding into Europe is a hot topic, and no one seems to know what the right answer is.

ISIS is on the verge of becoming a serious global threat, if you are prone to that kind of pandering.

North America is ignorant and blind to the rest of the world and what is truly going on. The environment is melting around us, the aliens are manipulating our leaders, and pop stars dictate interpersonal ethics.

Apparently, this is the part of those popular movies that describes the early 21st Century as dark, dystopic and fraught with oppression and angst.

There are enough side by side comparisons of modern day Japan and “Blade Runner” to make the point.

Things are bad all over.

Should a persons personal religious beliefs give them accommodations when doing their job? Historically, no. But we aren’t talking about history. We are talking about right now, and right now, the world is quickly filling up with all kinds of fanatics.

Fanaticism is not the sole property of religion, mind you.

We have the 1%, who are fanatical about keeping the economic structure of modern civilization the way it is because, let’s face it, they have all the money.

We have the faceless hordes of the computer savvy and not so savvy operating clandestine operations from behind keyboards, doling out vigilante justice to whomever comes up on their radar.

Corrupt politicians, sketchy police officers, a variety of terrible human traffickers and child exploiters the world over doing whatever the fuck they want, to whomever the fuck they want, whenever the fuck they want.

We have those refusing to do their job according to the law, and being paraded around like rock stars for it. those who can’t do one small task, and are being paraded around like criminals for it. Fake news, fake doctors, fake healthcare and fake help.

This was supposed to be the Golden Age of Humankind, striking out as one voice among the stars. Expanding our knowledge of ourselves in the cosmos, the inner space and the outer space.

What the fuck happened?

When did we lose our humanity? When did we become so terrible to each other that we would willingly tear down someone elses’ life because we didn’t agree with it?

When did cops – ALL cops – become the bad guy?

When did PERSONAL ACCOUNTABILITY become a hateful thing to say, let alone become an unpleasant aspect of life?

When did our society become so inhumane?

And how the fuck can we fix it?

Because I really don’t know. And I really, really want to.

Or else we are fucked.

ThreeSixFive

One year ago today, I was somewhere else.

And I’m still dealing with the after effects of the experience.

I have never considered myself someone who is easily jostled by the curve balls that life occasionally lobs my way.

But here I am, one year on, and I’m still dealing with it.

I don’t like to use the D word, because it fills me with unfair preconceived and inaccurate notions of weakness and limitation.

However, having recently decided to make whatever positive changes that are within my power to make, to put myself where I would rather be, I guess I recognize that it can only help me if I acknowledge what is going on, and has been going, for these last three hundred and sixty five days.

The truth is, I am depressed. Not in any easily diagnosed or readily solvable way. More like a “hurting to my core, feeling directionless and a variety of unhappy emotions” kind of way.

But this isn’t the end. Nor does it have to be. Every day that I move further and further away from the moment my depression began, I get closer and closer to the moment my depression will end.

And that is something to look forward to.

Reasonable Drought

Everything happens for a reason, as the saying goes.

All through our lives, we experience ups and downs, and twists and turns, that catch us off-guard and send us down unexpected paths.

How we react to these stimuli, is what generally determines our experience.

It is, to be fair, a challenge.

To keep our minds open and our spirits willing, to face the uncertain maelstrom of change, as it rips us from comfort and cozy, propelling us to new worlds, leaving us dripping in our undone sweaters on the welcome mat of the next moment.

And when we swivel our heads side to side, we see what we didn’t necessarily expect to, what we perhaps didn’t want to, and try as we might, we shake it off, and console ourselves with that most vague of comforting sayings:

“Everything happens for a reason”.

Yeah.

That has to be the stupidest, most chock full of horseshit statements EVER in the history of horseshit statements.

Very much akin to “finding something in the last place you look”.

Of course everything happens for a reason.  It’s cause and effect. Shit wouldn’t happen if shit didn’t cause it to happen. Most likely, the root cause of said shit is closely related to the irregular lump of putty staring back at you in the mirror.

Listen – something you did, you said, you thought, you felt, led you to this, whatever your “this” is.

If you don’t like where you ended up – go somewhere else.
Not crazy about your outlook – then look in.
Uncertainty creeping into your thought process- think differently!
Most importantly – feel ok about not feeling ok.

I am talking to and about myself, of course.

All of you (those following in real time, and those reading from the future) are just the lucky, lucky people that happen to be riding shotgun on this oh-de-lally little side trip of mine.

Listen – I haven’t had much to say lately, mostly because there was nothing I felt needed saying. Sometimes less is more, sometimes little is less.

Life goes on. Shit happens. Wherever you go, there you are.

Our collective experience is littered with jaunty Hallmark sayings perfectly designed to dull the ache of the long stretch of time we affectionately refer to as seconds, minutes, hours…..

Perhaps I just needed to wait for the snow to melt, for the sun to shine a little warmer and higher in the sky, and for the air to drift sweetly by, carrying the first whispers of a new spring.

Maybe I just needed to feel like I had something worth saying.

Quite possibly, I just needed a reason.

After all, everything starts to happen, when you have a reason.

This Post is Offensive

Readers be warned:

My words are chosen carefully. The innuendos, intended.

My jokes are almost always double entendres, and often mean more than one thing.

It is possible that what I write is not everyones’ cup of tea. My humour, is perhaps an acquired taste.

Maybe no one is paying attention. Maybe everyone is, somewhere in time.

That’s fine. I don’t mind, I can take it. I am a big boy. I have big shoulders. I don’t need people to like me.

But as the skipping record skips, it bears repeating.

The Constitution Act of 1867: Part 1 The Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms:

Section 2: Fundamental Freedoms

Everyone has the following fundamental freedoms:

  • (a) freedom of conscience and religion;

  • (b) freedom of thought, belief, opinion and expression, including freedom of the press and other media of communication;

  • (c) freedom of peaceful assembly; and

  • (d) freedom of association.

Because everyone has a voice.  Every word, every expression is priceless. We are all just stories in the end.

And for now, I am exercising my freedom to say what I want, what i shouldn’t have to say.

So I’m going on the Offensive.

Je suis Charlie.