Tuesday, 15 July 2014

Lonely date diner

Lonely date diner
At the bar,
Loud and crowded
But no one to sit with;
A single iceberg.

Monday, 5 May 2014


He felt the
one by
Letting them
fall down the string.
repeating and
repeating, yet          
there came no

Sunday, 20 April 2014

My moon

You are my
I can look
Upon your
Beauty but never
Feel your soft
I speak of your beauty,
You looking at me,
Yet my words never reach

Saturday, 19 April 2014

what being alive is

Rains sweet
scent after a
Cold long winter,
The flowers that
Follow after
Remind me what
Being alive is:

Tuesday, 15 April 2014

Silent Lover

Will I be the silent lover,
Will I watch all of the others?
Standing at the sidelines: still,
I wish for you with all my will
But you don't see my love for you,
My only wish is that you knew.

Monday, 14 April 2014

The Flower

Ah! But look at this flower now,
inhale it, and let it tickle your brow.
I smelt it first and now you too,
and now in us, does the scent brightly brew.
But you tell me this cannot be;
against all virtue, against any plea.
This flower gave such pretty scent;
In both of us does this perfume ferment,
so tell me why should we have to repent?

And now this scent we both do share,
Shouldn't we say we have no time to spare?
This flower is our love entwined
in us. We should take our love and combine.
It may be frowned upon for us,
but should we waste time to talk and discuss?
You want to pluck each petal off,
you think it folly, so you sit and scoff.
But these petals you pluck are your clothes: doff.

You offed the petals and killed it
hoping that doing so would make us split.
But as it was just a flower,
over us it did not have any pow'r
We can no longer smell the scent,
but we should not have worries or resent.
It was nothing to us at all
just something I used to charm and enthrall,
and so for us I hope love does befall.

Thursday, 10 April 2014


He looked at them. Prettied up hair,high heal boots and jeaan jackets. Walking onto the bus, they dropped their change for the transfer. While they were walking by Rob, the bus took a sharp turn. Next thing he knew he felt a hand on his crotch. Looking at the girl, the first words that came to mind "well hello there, you mind taking your hand off my crotch?"
Embaraced, the girl got up and walked to the back of the bus to her friends. Every so often Rob would give a quick glance to the back of the bus. He saw her looking out the window. She looked at him and he quickly looked to the front of the bus. He took out his cell phone and used it as a mirror. She was looking at him. He decided if she got off at his stop he would talk to her. Looking nervously at his mirror cell phone, he saw her getting ready. Two minutes from his stop. Ding. She rang the bell. Getting up  she went to the door and got out. Watching her as the bus drove off, he wished that it was his bus stop too.

Tuesday, 8 April 2014

Why did you call?

“Hello? Why did you call?”
“I wanted to say I miss you
and I'm sorry for our fall.”
“Well, I've become anew
and haven't missed you at all.”

“Hello? Why did you call?”
“I want to see you again
can we meet at the mall?”
“I'd rather not, I think I will refrain.
I've moved on now. Next time don't bother to call.”

Monday, 7 April 2014

The street

The hustle and bustle
Of the city street.
The honking horns
And the fast walking feet.
Green light, red light,
Pedestrian light.
Walkers, bikers,
Women with
Purses and dogs,
Men with scarves
And fancy watches.
Loosing sight of
What is authentic
To keep up with
The hustle and bustle.

Sunday, 6 April 2014


Sunflowers, chasing
the rising and setting sun,
never grow tired.

The wind on my face
Reminds me of the good times
but this wind is cold.

The snow is melting,
dog shit is everywhere now
but summer is soon.

Saturday, 5 April 2014

The Jump

I look
They say it's
like hitting a
Feathers all at once.
Jump they
Told me. I
Watched them fall
I couldn't see them.
I closed my eyes,
And let
myself fall. I feel the
Wind in my face;
A fan blowing.
I open my eyes and
See my
end comming.
I land on
And splatter.              
My end:
To give life
To a

Friday, 4 April 2014


I can't contain
this pain,
it's pulsating through
my veins.
My composure I try
to maintain
But these voices inside
aren't sane.
I look down
memory lane
and realize I'm
on the wane.
This pain
is tied to me
like a chain
and the only way to
put out this Flame,
Is when it comes time
to rain.

Thursday, 3 April 2014

Echo and Rumble

I can feel it rumble inside me,
you echo through my soul.
Oh divine, divine.
I wake in the night in a sweat
at the sound and sight of you.
You flash me like creamy white thighs,
and groan with joy.
You dance around in my view
like a prancing pony.
I hear you spitting at my door,
and I wait
till you grow tired
so I

Wednesday, 2 April 2014

I've heard

I've heard it
That when the
Moon is red,
Somebody's heart's
Been broken.
The rain
that comes
Is only there to
Numb the
that keep on

Thanks for reading!
Feel free to leave comments!

Tuesday, 1 April 2014


Your love is like a garden in the summer
in Montreal: flourishing and beautiful.
Your scent is like the most expensive myrrh
and the flowers are all around bountiful.

Walking through this garden I can smell your love.
And birds sing their songs harmoniously.
And perfect cotton candy clouds float above
But the clouds are ignored, you are all I see.

But when fall comes,your petals crumble and shrivel
and when winter hits, you turn so icy cold
I walk this cold garden, head low and I snivel.
Whatever happened to those fun days of gold?

Your love used to keep my heart warm all day long

But now I know for each other we were wrong.

Monday, 31 March 2014

Broken Pieces

No doctor or man can
Stop this bleeding,
This wound can’t
Be healed by hand.
This heart needs
To be mended,
It’s wounded;
Falling apart.
It’s tattered
And wasted
In your hands
I placed it,
And now
A toy on a shelf,
It sits there
Loosing its wealth.
I feel faint
And weary.
All those around me
Are cheery.
I wish this heart
Were made of stone.
Then it could be tossed
And it could be thrown
And no damage
Would come.
Now this is what I've become:
A broken soul
And it has taken
Its toll.
A Quick fix of love
Held this heart
Together for a while,
But its fallen to pieces
Now. And there’s
To many to pick up
By myself.
I hope that
Someday someone
Will come and pick up the
Broken pieces.

Saturday, 29 March 2014

My Ship, My Heart

A rusty mast;
This ship has
Seen many
The waves
Wash up
On the side,
Hitting the name:
The deck creeks
Calling for its
The steering wheel
Turns, remembering                  
The hands of
the captain.
Like the ship,
My heart longs
For excitement.
To feel the rush that
The crew felt hoisting
The mast.

Friday, 28 March 2014


Why can’t I think straight?
These lines in my head
all over
the place.
These thoughts bring me here
And there, ^ and

And I can’t seem to hold them.

Thursday, 27 March 2014


These days are
into eachother like
Neapolitan icecream.
Sundays turn to
Mondays and
Tuesday's split
into wednesdays and
And my
fridays and saturdays
have been walking
on the rocky road.

Wednesday, 26 March 2014


When tides change and seas roar,
When oceans rise and fall a’ more,
When rivers come to the end of their run,
When lakes shimmer in the sun,
When puddles dry up to the stone,
That is when I’ll be alone.

Tuesday, 25 March 2014

Star Gazing

Should I map out the twinkle in your eyes;
The stellar constellation of your heart?
Or fly up to be closer to your sky;
and compare your clouds to Da vinci's art?

By day, your face shines like the morning sun,
By night, your smile doth guide like the north star.
No, I did not rip off the poet Donne,
I wrote this in my room with my guitar.

But now my eyes can't see you anymore
For you have gone to a forever sleep.
But in my dream, your sky I do adore,
And my love for you in my heart I keep.

Star gazing reminds me of your beauty,
And I know you are looking down at me.

Monday, 24 March 2014

Run-on Idea poem

Words can speak volumes,
Turn the volume down I can’t hear myself.
Me myself and I, three in one like God or so they say.
They say nothing lasts forever.
What is forever? Is it the idea that time will last until our death?
Death: a passage to the unknown abyss of time.
What is time? Is it linear or a three dimensional void?

Sunday, 23 March 2014

White Men and Socks

          "My papa used to tell em that you can tell a racist by his socks. I never understood what he meant until the day he was shot. They said he was causin' trouble in Forsyth Park, but I know my papa. I know he done nuthin' wrong. He was walkin' home from workin' down in the south end a' town; same way he'd been takin' since I can remember. He used to stop by the pond and feed the ducks the crumbs of his lunch. Ain't meant nobody no harm. I used to meat him just after the park on West Taylor Street. That day I waited for him till three thirty; that's when I knew something was wrong. I ran to the park as fast as I could. There I saw my papa holdin' his chest leanin' on the edge of the pond wall. His hands were cups of blood. He pulled me closer to him and told me 'I guess them white folk don't like a colored man feedin' them ducks.' Those were the last words he said to me. I looked around and saw a group a' white men starin' at me and my papa. They were wearin' them racist socks. It had a red circle a cross in the middle. I stayed there until the police came and dragged me away from my papa. That's the last time I saw him. They cuffed me and put me in jail for a couple a' nights. Didn't even get to go to his funeral. And that's all there is to it sir."
"Do you see the men who were in the park in this court room today, William?"
           "Yes sir, I do." He pointed to the three men sitting in the front row, "That's them."
           "All right, William. You can take your seat."

Saturday, 22 March 2014


grow on a tree
only to wrinkle and die; we
grow and grow and fall
and wither away. Like
an old man sharing
his wisdom, so too do these

Friday, 21 March 2014

I chose Hell

as an end but
not for the
sins I did. Looking
ahead of the line I
saw a friend sent
here for the lies
he told.
I beg
with God to
let me go with him. I
chose it as my
end: spend never
ending days
in there with

Thursday, 20 March 2014

black cotton.
The ground
Shook like a rattle.
When the sky began
To spit, I waited for the end,
I crawled under
My thick sheets, closed eyes.
The window
Lit up
Like flashlights
Being thrown
Roar of the sky, made me

Wednesday, 19 March 2014


             He was running late so he bought a flower from one of the airport shops instead of on the way. Mark hadn't seen her in a long time. He kept biting at his nails as he waited sitting at the airport; arrivals from Chicago. He was dressed up a bit more than usual: a white button up shirt, the only one he owned, and black jeans. Two years he hadn't seen or spoken to her. She had run away from him. He searched for her for a while, but figured she didn't want to be found.
           People started to file out of the arrivals. He stood up abruptly when he saw her. At first she didn't notice him standing there. When she saw him, she looked down and walked over slowly. He hugged her. She hugged back tiredly. Handing her the flower, she took it and put it in her bag. Mark took her bag, “Common. Car's this way.”
She looked at him, then followed. Mark saw at her from the corner of his eye. She had changed a lot. Her hair was shorter; it was blond now. Her skin was tanned. “So, how was the flight?”
            “Fine.” she said. Looking out the airport windows.
They went into the elevator. Alone with her finally, he asked, “Why'd you leave, Jasmine?”
            “I didn't want a commitment”
            “You left on the night of our wedding!”
            “I don't think I was ready for it.”
They got to the door. Mark opened it for her, but she went to the next door.
            “Where's the car parked?” She asked.
“Second floor of the indoor parking.” He paused, “How did you find me after so long?”
            “Mark, I've known you long enough to know that you're not one to move around a lot. I bet you're still at the apartment we moved into together when we were dating.”
Mark laughed nervously, “I guess you're right.”
They walked up the stairs to the second floor. The echoes of their footsteps was the only sound. Mark let her get to the door first, but she hesitated and waited for him to open it. Confused, Mark opened the door and let her go first.
            “Here we are.” He said, forcing a smile.
She half-smiled and got in.
Mark got into the car and started it. He sat there for a second thinking of what was happening. Jasmine started to stare at him. He turned to her, “So, what are we exactly now?”
            “I don't know exactly.” looking in the rear view mirror, “But doesn't that excite you?” She said turning to him.
            “I don't know.” Finally looking at her.
He pulled out of the parking spot and started for the apartment. “Why did you decide to come back?”
            "One day I woke up and I told myself “It's time to go home.”” She said.
            “Well I'm happy you're back.” Mark said smiling.
She looked at him. Mark could see a smile creeping onto her face.

           “I guess I am too.” She said and turned on the radio.

Tuesday, 18 March 2014

After Rain

missing summer much? Here's a little poem to help bring summer faster:

The smell of
tarred asphalt
after a rain shower,
the sun poking
out of the clouds like
a nose.
The wet grass licks my
feet as I
walk to the tree.
I hear the birds
sing their
Oh Canada
or The Star
Spangled Banner:
their song,
and they
sing it best

Thanks for reading folks! :)

Monday, 17 March 2014


note about this poem: this is a list and a noun+7 poem. try and see if you can figure it out!

Japanese beetle
Marching orders
May Day


Sunday, 16 March 2014

Moving Fast

I let his hands go up
and down my body.
I love it when he does that.
He greases me up and I shine
in the light.
When he takes me out,
he drives me fast.
I give him the best I got,
as his hair blows in the wind.
He turns me on sometimes,
just to show his
I don’t mind, I love the
He sometimes
lets his friends ride me,
but I’d rather him.
He knows how to handle me.
He knows me inside and out.
He should know,

he built me.

Saturday, 15 March 2014

Heart Monitor

Thomas could smell the clean scent of newly washed bed sheets; flowers, and the smell of soap and alcohol. Something was beeping close him by. Opening his eyes, he saw a white ceiling. When he turned his head, he saw the usual things, familiar to him from the movies; an IV was going into his arm and a heart monitor. There was a cast on his left leg and a bruise on his right arm. His chest was pulsating with pain.
A nurse walked into his room with some papers and asked “How are you feeling?”
“My chest is killing me,” he paused, “what happened?”
“You were in a car accident. You’re lucky to be alive. You have a concussion, and you had to have surgery to get glass out from your skin and you have a broken leg.”
She walked a bit past him pulling a curtain away showing another patient. Thomas looked over to see an old man lying in the bed next to him. “Shit!” he thought to himself, “why am I in a room with an old guy?”
How are you today Mr. Edwards?” the nurse asked the old man.
“I’m doing just fine Ms. Shirley, just fine.”
I’ll be back with your medication Mr. Edwards.” She said with a smile. “And I’ll be back to give you some pain medication for your chest.” She walked out giving Thomas a frown; his eyes following her. Looking at the door, his parents walked in smiling.
Oh! My little munchkin!” his mother said running in and squeezing him tightly.
“Mom! Get off!” he said turning red in the face.
Hey son, I’m happy to see you’re all right.”
Hey Dad.” Thomas paused looking around in the room, “what happened?”
You were driving home last night from Rob’s house, when an eighteen wheeler T-boned your rear end. Your car flew into a ditch and flipped a couple times.”
We were so worried. The hospital kept bouncing our calls from here to there.” His mother said with tears starting to come to her eyes.
“Mom, I’m okay though.”
We should let you get some rest son.” His dad said smiling at him.
“I’m happy you’re okay!” his mom said, looking at him head to toe smiling.
“Thanks. I’ll see you guys later”
“Love you son.”
I know.” He said.
They walked out and it was quiet again. He only heard the beeps of the heart monitor.
“Your parents seem like nice folks.”
Thomas turned to look over at the man. He looked frail. He was wrinkly and bald and his eyes looked like they could tell a story. He had no flowers or balloons, no drawings by grandchildren. His side was bare. “They’re all right I guess.”
You’re lucky to have them around.” His voice was soft. “When I was your age, my parents were dead.”
“How’d they die?”
An explosion. It destroyed their whole town. I was only a child. I was at our family farm when it happened. They were in town getting a few things I guess.
Where was the explosion?” He asked.
Wow!” Thomas paused. “My names Thomas.”
Mr. Edwards, but you can call me Eugene.”
Nice to meet you Eugene.”
Looking back at Eugene’s bare white wall, Thomas asked, “Eugene, how come no one’s come to visit you?”
“How could you tell?” he asked with a smile. He continued, “Well son, I have no one left. I was an only child and my wife died three years ago.”
“No kids?”
You could say that.”
“What do you mean?”
“My sons have left me. I don’t even know where they are anymore.”
It was silent in the room; all that Thomas could hear was the beeping of the heart monitor.
“Yes son?”
“When are you getting out? Of the hospital I mean.”
The only way I’m getting out is through the morgue son.” He said in his soft voice.
“Oh,” Thomas felt bad for asking, “I’m sorry.”
Don’t be Son; it’s a part of life.”
“Are you afraid?”
Of dying? No, son. But one thing does scare me.”
“What’s that?” Thomas asked, looking over at Eugene.
“Being alone when it happens.” He said looking over at me.
All went silent. Thomas looked at the bare wall as he listened to the faint beeps of Eugene's heart monitor.

Friday, 14 March 2014

The Bitterness of Coffee

 Richard hadn't realized how much he hated the taste of coffee until now. He sat in a café, sipping his coffee, alone. Maybe it was the loneliness he didn't like? He had a newspaper in front of him, which he aimlessly flipped through while eating his breakfast, two eggs and sausages with toast. He looked around and saw only one other person in the café. He saw that she too was eating and looking at the paper as she sipped their coffee. He looked at her, a woman of maybe twenty-five, and realized she was quite attractive.
Long dark hair and dark skin. The thought passed through his mind to go and talk with her. He flipped through a few more pages. Taking one last swig of his coffee and got up. Pretending to go to the bathroom, with his coffee in hand he passed by her and looked at the newspaper.
“Ah! The comics. My favorite page.”
She looked at him with a smile, “Mine too.” She said.
“Nothing ever worth reading in the paper except them.” Richard said leaning on the chair across from her. She laughed.
“I want to ask, you don’t have to say yes, but I was wondering if you could use some company?”
Looking around at the empty seats, she nodded. He pulled out the chair and took a seat with his coffee.
“Richard” he said beaming.
“Jenifer” she said.
“If you don’t mind me asking,” Richard said, “What are you doing alone on a beautiful Saturday morning?”
She looked outside at the rain trickling down the window. She laughed,
“I don’t know. I woke up this morning and found myself walking into here.”
“I see.” said Richard. “Kinda the same thing for me. I don’t know why but I find myself in here every morning.”
She looked at him then back the paper. It fell silent for a while. He looked at her as she read the comics.
“What do you do? I mean as a living.” Richard asked.
“I’m a teacher.” She said, glancing up from the comics.
“What do you teach?”
“Math.” she said.
“Which school?”
She sipped a bit of her coffee, “You've probably never heard of it.”
“Try me!” he said with a smile.
Taking out a map, she pointed to a country in Africa. “I teach math in a town in Uganda called Gulu to children from ages six to fifteen.”
Taken back, Richard didn't know what to say at first.
Finally, “Wow! That’s really good! Helping out those in need. So what are you doing here then?”
Looking at him, she said, “Summer break, visiting family.”
It fell silent for a long time again.
Richard looked out the window and saw that it wasn't raining. The window wasn't even wet. Looking back in front of him, she was gone; there was no one in the café but the waitress pouring his coffee.
He asked the waitress, “Excuse me, what happened to the young lady sitting in front of me?”
She looked at him puzzled. “Hun,” she said, “you been out cold for about an hour.”
Finishing pouring his coffee she walked away. He took a sip of the coffee and realized how much he hated the taste.

Thursday, 13 March 2014


skateboards and
a message in a
for more skittles.
We rock back and
chaise berçante.
Blue jays hats,
mountain dew,
a friends arm
rubbing, on mine and
the wind breathing
on my face.

Wednesday, 12 March 2014

Possibly a finished poem? not sure though

Sometimes I feel like I'm the only one
other times like I'm being ignored by the sun.
All I want is someone to hold,
cus this winter is so damn cold.

Thanks for reading,