extinction distinction

March 27, 2009

had a good life

free from the strife

bags on the curb

after garbage day

wearing black

on labour day

I listen to what you heard

but not to what you say

exhaust from the car

exhaust from the dryer

exhaust from the fire

exhaust from the liar

green is the colour of blew

red the colour of what I knew

feeling the feeling of wondering

if we’re through

thrown it all away

grown at all this way

a fence between a flower

and a weed of distinction

the day of today is

a play at extinction

a wonder of dysfunction

have we had enough

play the day away

say you’ll stay

enough is enough

I’m going astray

I still listen to what

the baseball bat had to say

crack in the skull

crack in the ice

crack in the glass

crack in the vice

grasp me tight

free me from fright

say you’ll stay

tell me I’m not a stray

i’m not astray

i’m gone either way.


Smoke

March 27, 2009

where’s jesus

why can’t he ease us

where’s the devil

why doesn’t he please us

all i’ve got are cigarettes

and

a pack of plenty regrets

and

i live a life of vignettes

with 

spasmodic king-sized Tourette’s

where’s god gone

the great arranger

what about the word

the great deranger

all i’ve sought are cigarettes

and

to rid myself of regrets

but

i live a life of vignettes

with

bunches of one but no sets


forty-two fears

March 27, 2009

dreamers die without a vision of the last breath deep shallow face crooked and sallow expression of rhyme out of beat never on time for the market place to open and close a revolving door of perception no one agrees who should stay on their knees capping the suppression endless revolution of inception deception death where serfdom lies between the nether skies where music soars the preacher bores huff and puff quick grows the weed of greed need feed the radiation of the background rumbling around the sound wall between nowhere and their forty-two fears don’t thank a thing don’t think anything about the meaning between the words for the birds sing a song of freedom sounding like a car alarm foreboding harm to everything that doesn’t matter.  I’m ready.


Sensory Deception

March 27, 2009

no collection in communism

no community in church

no celebration of cynicism

no immunity from the lurch

into the future from the past

savory the salt of the earth

this moment will never last

so sweet the shock of mirth

the present cries a sigh aghast

sensing the futility of birth

of space between your fears

a garden filled with shit

and space between your tears

a desert with no flowers in it

ain’t nothing knew for years

when you should talk you spit


Hope Sleeps

March 26, 2009

I am pale with disease, but that’s nothing to my misease.  I can’t bring me here anymore.  I can’t stand the eggshells on the floor.  My prison was wrought from the freedom I sought.  Clipped wings.  A devil sings, ’Rejoice, for you have no voice.’  No one listens to a conscious choice.  I stomp where I stand.  I slap away your tender hand.  What happened to the grace I saw in your face?  I am alone, chilled to the bone, kneeling before a vacant throne.  I saw your feet fleeing the flight of the fleet.  I saw your heels break the fingers of the hand that heals.  Freedom for one is not liberty at all.  A single slave can cause a mighty fall.


Blight Rest

March 25, 2009

A screw falls from my arm rest, puts my patience to the test.  I’m no better than any of the rest, to this I can attest.  I’m sorry because I apologize I never realize when I eulogize.  I scream, my voice is muffled by the skies over agrave where my happiness lies.  A wind from the west destroys the flag freedom flies.  A breeze from from the east stifles the words of the wise.  No one tries.  Words kill the rest of the wicked.  No one tires, especially the liars.


Enough

September 19, 2008

Engage endeavor encourage engross endear enchant enthrall enrich endow enhance ennoble envisage enlighten enthuse enact enable encroach ensnare entrap entangle enslave encage encumber endanger endemic enlarge entomb entrench entrust enrage endure envy

end.


The Shortest Mile

August 26, 2008

I walk the chamomile, warm, soft, mellow.  Easy to strut.  Easy to flutter about.  Precious as a pillow on a mattress plane.  Three feathers unwind.  Float through space.  Floating a flicker apace.  Floating with gravity’s grace.  A bumble is an ounce of bounce, where a tumble is a tonne of trounce.  Sleepery slopes slide down the slippery substruction side of slings.  Sheep graze in praise of grass.  Snobs sip tea.  Love the leaf, provides relief from belief.  Mellow marshes make mosquitoes.  Marsh mellows make melty playhem.


Clipped Wings and Tidy Things

August 25, 2008

Whatever happened to happy?  Disappeared with light.  Does anyone remember the before after?  Disappeared last twilight.  Anyone see my shame?  It gave up without a fight.  Does anyone remember my laughter?  I gave it up to plight.

Quash the dishes.  Quake out the trash.  Revolutionary chores.  Bores and snores.


How Clouds Form

August 12, 2008

In a nutshell, air contains water molecules (or vapour).  Warm air holds more water than cold air.  Warm air rises and cools.  As the air cools, the water molecules begin to condense (clump together) faster than they are torn apart by their thermal energy.

These clumps of water could not maintain form without a host of some sort, most typically dust.  The condense water vapour clings to these airborne particles to form a droplet.  It takes billions of these droplets to form a cloud.

Clouds are white because the condensed water vapour reflects the sum of the Sun’s spectrum, which is white.  When the cloud is thick enough, the sun can no longer penetrate to the bottom (what we see from the ground) and thus the cloud grows dark and grey.

When it rains, the particles to which the water vapour attach are returned to the ground.  Rainfall cleanses the sky by acting as a filter for these smaller airborne particles of matter.


Fish for a wish.

August 5, 2008

People.  Everywhere.  Go so gently.  Everywhere you go.  So gently.  Anything you know offends me.  Everything you know apprehends me.  Never so gently.  As you should go.


Fun

August 5, 2008

You want to be in control.  Ain’t got none.  Even when you got a goal.  Ain’t life fun.


Old Fashion Olfaction.

June 22, 2008

Silence.  No noise other than the whir of my computer, the keys of my board and the birds outside.  Sweet relief.  I am suffering a nullification of my consciousness.  Sleep deprived for four days.  Catching a nap wherever, whenever they roam.  I should be sleeping but having thought about sleeping so intensely, I am kind of weary of it.  So it’s coffee instead.  Caffeine straight to the head.

You ever get the feeling your nervous system is no longer centralized?  You can derail your breathing by thinking about it.  Different nervous system (I think!).  This function falls under a different name at least.

I’ve often wondered, always in jest, if I am handicapped.  If we have five senses and one of them is suddenly turned off, would you not agree the resulting condition is a handicap?  Blindness, deafness – both very challenging conditions.  But what about those people who can’t touch?  Or can’t taste?  Or smell?  Are these three senses any less important?  Yeah, I know they are, but how much less?

If you ask me, I couldn’t tell you which is more important sight or hearing.  I’d think sight is.  To rank the senses – sight, hearing, smell, touch, taste.  My rationale for this ranking is in terms of necessity for survival.  I switched smell & touch around a few times, so I’m not sure which is more essential. 

We rely on smell as a distant early warning system in the approach of an enemy, or in searching out prey.  Hunters try to stay downwind for a reason.  However, the sense of touch informs us when something is hurting, infected or potentially dangerous to our body.  I don’t know, but this certainly isn’t an exhaustive argument one way or the other.

In the wild, loose your sight or hearing and you’re in trouble, more so with the loss of sight.  Loose both and you’re doomed.  After that, losing your sense of smell would put you at a disadvantage when enemies are still a distance away and you could’ve had time to elude.  Loosing your sense of touch would put you at a disadvantage when things are closer, close enough to touch.  However, loosing smell or touch does not guarantee your demise.

Taste is a mere trophy sense (or is it?), so falls last in the ranking.

How many times is a fire detected by sight before smell?  How many times are gas leaks sensed by sight, hearing or touch, before smell or taste?  You see where I’m going with this.  Everything is essential in certain regards.

Did you know that most of your refined sense of taste is determined by your sense of smell?  Taste buds detect only four things – sour, sweet, salty and bitter.  Oh, the tongue detects texture.  So there are five gross categories of classification in the mouth.  That’s taste for you.  All the refinement of the mouth is in the nose.  For instance, the difference between a lemon and a grapefruit is mostly aroma (and a little bit of bitterness – trust me!).

If you loose your sense of smell, you also loose most of your sense of taste.  Double whammy, not only have you lost a full sense, another one is cut in half.  You’re operating with three and a half senses.  If you’re not handicapped, you’re definitely disadvantaged, but not doomed to death in the wild.

There’s the jest of it – here’s the rest of it.

Without a sense of smell one misses the hunger generated from the aroma of cooking.  One misses the arousal from the aroma of their partner.  One cannot smell that wonderful baby odour.  Or a dewy spring morning.  No flowers.  No farts.  Nothing.  All these things add peaks and valleys to our emotions.  You know – the mise-en-scene of life, the full ambience of being.  So where your emotions go this far, mine stop here, a little closer to the base line.

There is an entire dimesion of experience in which those without smell can partake.  The world is has a little less life, a little less beauty, a little less depth.  Oh well.  I didn’t really appreciate when I had it, so what’s the difference?


what was bliss has gone amiss

May 6, 2008

Where is God when the world is ablaze?  Why did the Devil discard his angelic grace?  Why are people always bound in some craze?  What ever happened to this forsaken place?  This sacred race with a human face.

In our hands, our furred, finned and feathered friends meet their ends.  We don’t think we need to make amends, but that all depends on current social trends indicating that before something breaks, it bends.

We don’t like to think a thought about more than we think we’ve got.  The memory is out there, but it looks like we all forgot that a lazy person can’t be taught.  If you can’t beat them.  Greet them, but don’t get caught.


What do I know?

May 6, 2008

What does anyone know about pain?  For some it’s a last breath.  For others, bead of rain.  For those, it’s a purpose.  For them, the inane.  We scoff at the normal.  We scorn the insane.  It can be beauty.  Or a dreary plain.  So very different.  So much still the same.

Wandering, wondering about a dream I had last night, dark.  I don’t remember, but I think it was nothing.  Literally nothing.  Black.  Dark.  Empty.  Long dream, short night.  What is in my mind?  Nothing?

Cowboy hats, boots and buckles don’t have a sense of suburban style.  Every time I see someone wearing one of them, I can’t resist a smile.

At this moment, the day of Piglet is out of reach, far away.  I wish the meek could inherit the Earth, could proliferate through birth.  But there is no mercy at the bank.  In the rank you file and in the file you rank.

Absent I, absinthe eye.  Just wandering, wondering, why the box of tissue keeps so many secrets?

The speaker was a leaker of meaningless words.  I had to listen, was on every channel. 

On my mask, my painted face, a resemblance of the space between here and every other place.

A voice in the background, a psychotropic sound.  Speak to me.  Tell me the truth about sooth.  Is it real or just another loftless word?

What does friend mean to me?  I don’t know anymore.  Everything diminishes, fades, erodes like the croak of toads, crumbles like oft travelled roads.  Tax dollars pave the path to the politician’s pool, cool envy drool.

There isn’t a trophy for atrophy.  For every inaction, no reaction.