untested waters
ripple,
strands of light
flash in the beauty
of my mind

---

the past dwelt
in the corner
debilitating
disabling
untethering,
I was thrown
back in time

(bad happens
to the good
and the good
happens to the bad)

visiting sins
replayed in my head
reminding me
shaming me,
the circle went
around

but I remembered
the dashes of hope
the splashes of love
all that I had shared
all that I had lost

when politicos come a'knockin'
power lusting
wielding rightousness as a badge
indignation as a weapon,
be forewarned

the future is the past

the pendulum swings left to right
and back again

a Poe pit mechanism
slicing the spoils
pitiless as their gods
extorting amens

lock your doors
better fire or flood
than politicos,
crying
for money
or blood

swerve
slew
the skelter shiver

let the cats eyes
glean
like whiskers of whiskey
and her claws
like minion guards
tend beadlette offerings

baby grand
can you purr my song
like this wind that
sails my calm

a slate great
pyre shall be
once desired

and a dram
from the
well from
that farm..

I don my camouflage each fall
and head out to the hinterlands
where the miles make me feel small
among the pine and hardwood stands.

So through the dark I speed my way
beneath the late night moon and stars
well before first light of day
on lonely roads near bare of cars.

Past black woods and brooding glades
past houses with all windows black
with all asleep behind closed shades
long before dawn starts to crack.

You belong to Ontario as per you
The West is quite open... anyone can hit anyone.....a wrong doer on ones head ...rightly or wrongly ... it's well said
But as a kid we all do ....so many tricks ...smack ...shack and in bushes we till ----- gals and guys alike we spill..............
Should it debar our will ....as we become Seniors and Mature...
The Eastern part of the world is not as openly bravely outspoken ...as USA /CANADA

He won't go 'yes, yes'
as you spout some homegrown
mystical bullshit

It is not homegrown,
it is not common sense,
you forgot to question.

He doesn't think he's right,
he knows it.
No faith,
no lies,
just knowledge
he nullifies your comfort zone.

Why would you put up with this
arrogant old prick?
He without the authority of guns and bucks

Cogs with no difference,
slaves of indifference,
we forget,
we forget we are slaves.

These are the demarcation lines of hate,
The crude black daubs of a battle plan.

Unspoken rules of some other’s fate,
Silently inscribed by unseen hands.

And whom, do we suppose, lands the final blow?
Among the innumerable rain of fists immune
To the fire below.

Forged, wrenched, wrought – an old and heinous plan begins:
Unleashed: the thousand shards of violent delight

For those who come willing to sow and fight,
While high above the bloody heaven,

A sardonic watching master grins.

the mourning light
lays upon your face
spilling its sadness
wearing your grief

we hold on trying
to halt your slide
under our hands
leaves of skin flake
to float the breeze,
you are vanishing

smile lines are erased
a flawless mask
takes their place,
looking into the unknown
you are lost in dreams

each day a knife of anguish
carves at your mind
you've forgotten
the majesty of life
and a love all carry for you

poetry

designed
sublime
pretty, sometimes

yet, simply a vehicle
a word driven craft

certified and licensed
for transporting
minds

copious example
held aloft
the good life
shinning through

beneath the bitter milk
and sour bread
we tilled the salt
with toil and sweat

trickle aches
the open dreams
like runoff streams
and miles bred

porchlight nocturna
waiting for visions
from heaven
and whispers from
the grasses

hunting bat
on moth glass
chase

drink heartily
these chaste
allowances