In Memorium
My body is finally letting go
of the home
     I have made in this maddening silence.
           But it is I,
if there is anyone
     to be blamed,
for carving poems into my skin
and breathing a spirit into them
    in the image of you.

And Yet They Bloom
I climbed your ribs to the very last rung
but in spite of the effort, bruised knees and broken skin
I'll finish this race
where I started from
because someone's future taunts me
sitting in a past I could never outrun.

Everything Illuminated
My satin sheets
were always bathed in starlight,
at least that's what you kept repeating
But I just wanted you to know
that these walls
shine just as bright
in broad daylight
If you would have only waited
a couple more hours
to see darkness welcome in the morning
and I would have greeted you
with a smile so exuberant
that it would have put
the sun to shame.

The Last Lakes of the Green Sahara
Perhaps one day
you will want me
the way that I want you,
like a desert rose pining for the rain
like a bruise wanting respite from the pain
like a scientist searching for a cure
like a sinner's heart wants to be pure.

And I would claim you
like the last lakes of the green Sahara.

Dust Bowl Memories
Sepia tints an old photograph
that I'd forgotten I took
in it we were holding hands,
smiling like fools
as our Blind Fingers danced a pirouette
gracefully, nonchalant
I remember your eyes as they idly traced
the outlines of my face
and how your tongue was like the ocean
and my lips the shores it died upon.

Kitchen Poetry # 69. 
The beginning was benign
as most beginnings usually are
but how was I to know it would turn out the way it did
dangerous and unpredictable
hurtful and sad.

Incendiary
Your smile sets me ablaze
and I swoon to the sighs of a confetti of tears
You offered me the world
and a stage of my own
And without permission you plunged deep into my subconscious mind.

Wanting more leaves you chasing whispers
Like a vanishing a shadow that fades into the light
A wreckage heavy with guilt
Sinking fast, into the depths of the unknown.

So there I stand with my heart in my hands
Pledging that to the last hour of my life
You cannot be anything but to remain
every part of me, every part of my being
Every good
Every evil.

Left alone in the wandering night
I shall end my book in the comforting shadows
In the uncertainty of the future
In the haunting of the past
And that is where I shall find myself living.

Here In Alberta Canada
come Closer
but remember The First time when
I Was A Fool
. . . A Fool To Cry
"I Know I Know I Know"
my displaced pride exclaims
but Back In Your Head
i'm Walking With A Ghost
who whispers sweetly, "Goodbye, Goodbye"
maybe once i was your Heartthrob
but you kept shouting, "I'm Not Your Hero"
and the echoes reverberate against the stained glass windows of my heart
Where Does the Good Go
when things fall apart?
and Now I'm All Messed Up
and So Jealous refusing to Call It Off
the unnecessary flirting and asking for My Number
because i never claimed to be an angel
and the Dark Comes Soon
but you were well versed in This Business of Art
the art of illusion
but in spite of my warning that You Wouldn’t Like Me much
you went ahead and canonised me
and with that Sainthood i tried to Fix You Up with clumsy hands
frustrated I Can't Take It
so stepping away i ask myself,
"How Come You Don't Want Me?"
this relegation to my own version of Hell
when Freedom feels more like Dancing In The Dark
spinning wildly in your Living Room
and Under Feet Like Ours, broken glass
your hand holds me like the vice grip of an Alligator's bite
and when i was younger you always Drove Me Wild
as Love They Say
sometimes feels like kissing Underwater
to discover one another was like studying the Floor Plan of your heart
If It Was You, there would be me
and This Is Everything that we would need
i would be that Shock To Your System
the North Shore claiming lost ships like strangers embracing long lost lovers.

Kitchen Poetry # 68.
Colour my soul
     in shades of sharp blacks
       with bright whites
    and smoke greys
        between hues of red
    and the tensed nerves
        of this industrial city's
grim reality.