I walked into a cloud,
Searching for clarity,
Everybody was so loud,
Hording all their charity.
Digging life with a spade,
Finding worms wriggling,
Evading the Queen of Hearts,
All the trolls were giggling.
What happens when we wake?
Do we find truth, or love?
Or has this life been one big mistake?
Perhaps clarity gives us a shove,
Over charity's edge, that abrupt precipice,
Pitching into that place, where love lies,
Stumbling into that graveyard shrouded by artifice,
Into that chasm, where wounded love dies,
Going down and down, into down and down,
Eyes shut tight, mind enveloped in closure,
Ego incinerated by lightning's burning crown,
Cremated in love's flaming enclosure,
Love has lost, tattooed my broken life,
Razor scars trace redemptive haste,
Fearful I plummet, blinded by cruel strife,
Falling loveless into night, nothing good or chaste.
Waiting for you, teetering at the edge, you didn't come,
Regret arrived, telling me you had already gone,
Remorse approached, courting an intrepid sum,
Calling my name, angels disappeared in the dying dawn,
Vipers came slithering, whispered rules of a tainted game,
Disgrace drove me further, towards despair,
Oh those wicked rules, tarnishing love's name,
Letting us crash and burn, but love doesn't care,
Forever is done, down and down. Never gave a shove.
Yet birds flew to rescue, no song o'er me, their voices mute,
Founts and springs failed to flow, dried up by ardent love,
Arrested rapture, caged and chained and flogged, yet astute,
Abraded day is done and gone. Hopeless love is gone and done.
So I turn, turn to face the west, where the sorry sun sets,
Straying into another mindless void, I scatter senseless sighs,
Wand'ring into another cemetery, I bury love with my regrets,
Laying down and down, next to that dark place where sorrow lies.

I'm going to say this only once,
Stars in the universe don't shine for us,
I'm going to speak this only once,
Moon doesn't revolve around earth for us,
I'm going to write this only once,
Sun doesn't radiate energy, fusion for us,
I'm going to articulate this only once,
Birds don't nest or sing for us,
I'm going to communicate this only once,
Oceans don't ebb or flow for us,
I'm going to utter this only once,
Fish in the sea don't spawn or swim for us,
I'm going to babble this only once,
Microbes don't mutate for us,
I'm going to exclaim this only once,
Life didn't emerge out of primordial muck for us,
I'm going to rant this only once,
Evolution doesn't recreate for us,
I'm going to preach this only once,
Earth doesn't exist for us,
I'm going to shout this only once,
Jupiter doesn't weep for us,
I'm going to whisper this only once,
God doesn't pray for us.

Forget words,
Articulate from your heart,
Cut out your tongue,
Let your eyes speak for you,
Ignore letters and reading,
Spin round and round til you leave all speech behind,
Climb out of your talking head, 
Descend into babbling dreams,
Let thought scribe subjects on your walls,
Let cerebration paint images on your forehead,
Allow the stars to be your conversation,
Permit the colour of the wind to tell your intimate story,
Charter love to stammer and murmur, sputter and whisper,
exclaim all your silent and discordant feelings.
Forget words.

When Cheryl-Ann Was Six

I remember that sad mountain place,
Up and up, we trudged, away away,
I still remember your smiling face,
It was hot, so hot on that tragic summer day.

Unfortunate August, so very very long ago,
Camped in those tall mountains, awe struck,
Up and up, that steep trail, water rushed so,
Those days, when life seemed full of luck.

Others hiking down, canyon walls echoed sounds,
Mountain air filled our heads with capricious wonder,
August splendour, wafted delicate o'er mossy mounds,
Up and up, we trekked that thin line, pulling us asunder.

I recollect, reminded by that rugged mountain gorge,
Clear as day, vivid as starry night, I see our craggy footing,
On the 14th entertained, sculpted by a Ranger's evening forge,
Up and up, ascending Heaven's way, to stay to stay rooting.

Hot August night, we slept snug, secure in our forest camp,
On the 15th we woke happy, ready for another August day,
Black bear wandered silent by, padding o'er morns grassy damp,
Up and up, acclivity, rising towards that ancient gloomy way.

Ascension, to that precipice, water rushed, where Heaven found us,
Declivity, where our lives plummeted, took such a turn, down and down,
All we hoped for, suddenly lost, o'er that awesome edge with such a fuss,
Down and down, doom washed you o'er that falls t'wards Heaven's Crown.

Down and down, with a deafening roar, down and down,
Glacial water gripped your tiny body, slipped you away from us forever,
We didn't get to kiss or wave goodbye, down and down, you fell down,
That glacial 15th day in August, summer day filled with doom, bane of ever.

Down we fell together, reaching down, to solid bottom, death knew it,
What had we done to slip like that? Why did ruin tear us down and down?
Cold grabbed our throats, stopped our hearts, halted life as we knew it,
Why did summer down and down that day? Must children drown and drown?

I remember your face, as you fell, ripped from our lives by grief,
Washed o'er that sudden ledge, gashed by that cataract, forever lost,
Terror etched your face, horror blanched our minds, there's been no relief,
So much pain, so much loss, so much down and down, such a terrible cost.

Torrents washed you over slick stone, wounded rock, down and down,
Down and down, o'er that waterfall edge, 80 feet down and down,
Down to nether, enveloped by apathetic spray, down to spatial earth,
Underneath that liquid realm, broken o'er hard rock, void of mirth.

Somewhere at deep bottom, submerged in that gelid mountain pool,
You dove, sinking to depths far beyond us, drowned by your ascension,
Mother could not save you, Angels did not rescue or change that fatal rule,
Somewhere, down and down you plunged, into death's dimension.

Down and down we crept, waiting for providence to take us by the hand,
Rushing up and up, Rangers hurried with their rope and grappling hooks,
Tears spilled down and down while searchers grappled off that pool's sand,
God approached, finding us, down on our knees, pasted in our terrified looks.

Down and down we slept, wishing tomorrow was yesterday, that 15th August day,
Somehow wisdom left us crying, washed naked by that downward drain,
Down and down we washed, splashed by all that fateful doom, a lingering way,
Some reason, your death summoned lasting grief, beyond our heartfelt pain.

August 16th dawned bright and clear, morning birds sang, but we didn't hear,
We'd slept and dreamed in our mountain camp, that one final August night,
Dawn woke weeping, wond'ring what fate delivered, a dream, or horrid raging bear?
August finally turned to September's numbing brown, stealing away our family light.

Down and down, into the deepest chasm, down and down we fell,
Down and down, o'er so many Augusts, down and down, rescinding glory,
Down and down, losing you, we all drowned, mourning as you fell,
Down and down, down and down, drowned by death's lethal story.

Tears never fixed us, grief never left us, your death always washed over us,
Seldom don't we think of you, remember Chery-Ann, so many Augusts done,
In time perhaps we'll meet once more, through Heaven's door, love caressing us,
Perhaps we'll meet again, when life rounds a final bend and August tears are gone.

I'm not the man I used to be,
Certainly not the man I used to see,
Staring at my impression I always ponder,
Surveying my reflection I perpetually wonder,
When I sense my echo in that shining mirror,
Why is it I can't ever see myself any clearer?
Time is such a strange and funny thing,
All these past days and months and many years,
Focused on a moment, musing on what dawn might bring,
Wond'ring if restless dreams will transfer hopes or fears.
Once upon a time, my beloved friend,
When days were long and life was bliss,
When we were young tender love would mend,
Our gentle lives were simply filled with this.
Happy days blessed by sunshine, we oft did spend,
Wrapped and cradled in  each others loving arms,
Entwined by faith and life's persuasive charms,
When our loving homes were filled with lullabies,
Life's wonders blossomed like sweet perfumed blooms,
When our blissful garden was cheery song and butterflies,
Dreaming sweet dreams, like lovers in love filled rooms,
We gently lay our nodding heads down to sleep,
Ardent prayers promised heaven, our souls to keep,
Oh those long past heady days!
Sweet memories of distant long ago!
If I could go there, at least part ways,
My heart would burst with joy, I know it's so,
Bewitched we change, we have no recourse,
Spells like fleeting time, they come and go it's true,
If only every distant mem'ry were happy, with no remorse,
If tender love filled our lives, sad mem'ries would be but few,
However life is hard, life's challenges are many,
Let's hope they're worth at least a copper penny,
Old man time tends to fly, precious time it doesn't wait,
Oh our wondrous mem'ries, those heart felt dreams,
Someday friends we'll wake, find ourselves at Heaven's Gate,
 Our time on earth is short, once we're old so it seems,
Such is life, for all it's worth, and such is time,
Each moment shared, magic moments lost,
Every entrancement told, whether yours or mine,
Passing spells we'll measure, precious time the cost,
If I could spell back, fly in time, to sunny happy days,
Where waking dreams were spent in marvelous ways,
If I could change one thing, as I search for a timeless cure,
I'd halt time, anchored in its hapless tracks with silver stays,
I'd  stop time, fill our lives with golden love, of that I'm sure.
Yet in that reflective plane, mirror mirror on the wall,
There's some silent stranger gazing back at me,
Not speaking words, never saying anything at all,
Peering at that image, admiring time's mirage,
I wonder, guessing who that old man could be.

For Charles Bukowski In All His Madness 
  
Oh Charles! 
How alien we are in this alien world! 
Flopping around in this sizzling frying pan, 
wishing our heads were resting on the guillotine block, 
waiting for the axe to fall, 
relieving us all of this tar paper shack syndrome that plagues us, 
haunts us, 
stalks us, 
from this waking world, 
deep into our midnight dreams. 
Oh if poetry could fly us to the moon! 
Rocket us to Mars! 
Where like Martians we would walk about in thin skins, 
covered by some shiny exterior, 
breathing filtered Martian air, 
dreaming filtered Martian dreams, 
writing filtered poetry about filtered home, 
angered by how much filtered home betrayed us. 
So it is, this timeless time, 
remarking as we stumble through life, 
typing lines that don't make sense, 
composing prose that doesn't get us anywhere in this filtered chaos, 
as we chew on stale bread, drink rancid beer, 
like some homeless person, 
lost in a dark alley, 
hoping some light will lead us into tomorrow, 
finally laying our heads down on some soiled brick of baked clay, 
next to some stinking dumpster, 
thinking in our confused thoughts, 
"Surely there must be some other fool more foolish than myself", 
waking in the dark of night, 
finding some demon mugger standing over us, 
knife blade glinting in a ray of mirrored street. 
Once we're robbed and bleeding, 
left for dead, 
nickels and dimes stolen from our pockets, 
perhaps we rise again, 
pull the filthy collar of our worn out coat up around our ears, 
trying to keep out life, 
trying to imagine something beyond the hellish beast that growls at us, 
each and every day, 
nipping at our heels,
gnawing at our lives.
Oh words! Why hast thou forsaken me! 
What sin have I committed? 
What prayer have I not recited? 
Why does existence shun me as I plead for mercy? 
Such is life, 
as I breathe and sleep and murmur words that fall unheard into the gutter. 
If the sun didn't get up tomorrow perhaps I would find atonement, 
understand how failing, 
how failure makes the world go round. 
If the stars blinked out, 
one by one, 
maybe I'd wake in that darkness, 
thinking to myself, 
"This must be heaven, my mother's womb, 
this must be the place where I am reborn",
but then who isn't reborn each time they wake? 
But in the dark? 
Who doesn't begin life anew each time they fall down, 
pick themselves up, 
wipe themselves off,
amble into the ample light of each newly filtered day? 
But Charles! 
In my madness, 
I strip, 
walk naked down a desolate street,
seeking new clothing, 
a new skin, 
new words, 
new poetry,  
that doesn't fail me, 
new prose, 
that grabs me by the scruff of the neck,
lifts me up, 
dresses me,
covering my shame,
in a vibrant new light.

My simple little life, has been lived a billion times before,
This air I breathe, breathed at least a zillion times or more,
Ten billion others born to die, living embellished lives,
As a hundred billion humming bees explore,
Buzzing life and incantations in their mantra hives.
A billion earthquakes have shaken a trillion lives or more,
A million tsunamis charge with the Reaper, deliver death to every shore.
Three teenage girls with their legs and eyes and lips, sat at a table next to me,
Sat there a million times before, adorned in those same skins,
Those same three girls dressed in different lives perched there,
A billion times before and more, wearing those same grins.
Following the fall of forever, where a million bombs dropped,
A billion crimes shall over time, manifest those very sins,
Chronology ticks front to back, round and round, yet has never stopped,
I wonder as new snow falls, how many flakes have fallen?
Does a pine tree bear its cones and seeds, count each grain of pollen?
All music that I hear today as well, drifts forgotten out in space,
How many times those same resonant notes, vibrated this same place?
As spring arrives again I wonder how many leaves trees have made?
How many branches have grown, dying to fall in each reverential glade?
Watching as snow white wakes, in this cycle of place and time,
How many times has humankind witnessed this same story?
In this same space, with this same rhythm with this same rhyme?
Is there really anything ever new, adorned in creative glory?
Or has creation seen it all,  done it all, all been before?
Has existence come to pass, rejoiced again with a different story?
Is there ever really ever more?
As I lay me down to sleep,
Perhaps to dream a fancy dream,
Drift into another place, imaginary familiar space,
Perchance the Lord my soul to keep,
As I dream and scream a primal theme.
If life needs mending,  be never ending,
Throughout this universal realm,
If God keeps calling from the source,
Sending sailing ships from that spiritual helm,
If life goes on and on and on, stays its very course,
Never ending, expanding with enlightened leaven,
If circles keep on spiraling,
Around some distant heaven,
Is existence forever spinning?
Is God in heaven, forever grinning?
I'm lost in all this cryptic cost,
Forever lost, without faith so very lost,
Without an ounce of love to hold me.
Sitting cross-legged on a  weathered shore,
Regarding life through thick fog, across a titanic ocean,
Heeding that deep spiraling gyre separating God and thee.
There are those that say "In time we shall find a way."
Plus there are those who pray, "In time God will come and stay."
In this fleeting life of motion,
That's been lived a million times before,
I sense the beating of a transient heart,
All hearts have beat in time and rhyme and more,
A zillion times, like fine grains scattered on a sandy shore.
Still yesterday I lived, while a million suns exploded,
I died a million times, passed away a billion times,
Still yesterday when I was born, a million galaxies imploded,
While nativity was born, reborn a trillion times,
Like those three teenage girls, seated next to me,
With their nose rings and locks of rainbow hair,
Grinning, laughing, whispering things, engrossed by glee,
Ignore the bigger play, as if existential life wasn't there.
Now clouds roll in, fogging up my day and view with strife,
Like a kaleidoscope full of wondrous passion,
Death comes knocking, disrupting my hovel life,
Death wants to grab me in its modern fashion,
Dance me across the burning desert sand,
Death wants to lead me to another land,
Grip and guide thee to a distant shore,
A place that should be familiar, oh but so much more,
I've been there a thousand, ten thousand times before.
I sense existence grabbing a bloodied knife from the virile start,
As I live and breathe, that blade is plunged into life's pounding heart,
My soul cries out as suns explode, while sultry angst tears love apart.
In this war torn age, with war torn poems written on a bloodied page,
Neutron bombs drop in unison, destroying humanities simple lives,
Thus birds aren't hatching,  bees are perishing in their hives,
Humming beat accompanied by vacillating note, entertain on this varied stage,
Drumming extinction with instinctive rage, as compassion drowns in a wrathful sea,
Rapt life grips that bloody knife, sacrifices all the world as well as you and me,
Travels light years with slaughter in its  psyche to the very source,
Where three teenage girls sit and laugh and grin, all void of sin,
Watching God reinvent yet another float to raft his galactic course,
More being, creation spread o'er God's vast ocean without remorse,
Let imagination reign with recipe, as a billion innocent suns implode,
Life begins anew again hatching death, embellished by inventive mode.
Three girls with their rainbow hair and legs and lips and teenage hips,
Hop music tattooed on their minds, a billion times o'er a million mind trips,
Septum nose rings dangling jeweled from that nasal perforation,
Repetitious stimuli aroused and encircling reincarnations spatial summation,
A juncture point recurring in cycles,  revolving and solving life in smatters,
Retracing creation from its incarnate source, resolving life whenever it matters.

I hope that you are well, living in your far away land,
I hope that life for you is good, so absolutely grand.
I hope that in your heart birds are sweetly singing,
I hope summer has left its perfumed mark in your fragrant dell.
I hope autumn kisses you with colour, that changing seasons bringing,
I've tossed some shiny coins, for love's sake, into a wishing well.
I hope your heart is full of love and joy, awash with glorious singing,
I hope that happiness, with all its radiant light, has come to stay,
I hope jubilation visits you, revisits too, each and everyday.
My love for you shall never wane, all love's moments so surely gained,
Though love we shared was sometimes difficult and pained.
I sit on this far shore, looking out to sea, across a deep vast ocean,
Apart from you, where you live your life, in that far off place,
I lovingly recall how bliss sang love songs, with such a rhythmic motion,
While we marveled at the colour of the wind, in your garden space,
That impassioned place where muse came to visit, desire held our hands,
Impelling us to a sacred place, where we kissed and laughed and danced,
Where love always joined us, caressed us daily,  with such amazing grace,
Those wondrous days we spent together, entranced by love's romance,
Enjoying every breath of life together, love found us in that blessed space.
But now long years have passed us by, I sit helpless on this lonely shore and sigh,
Wond'ring if joy can ever fill my soul, will love ever mend my broken heart?
As I live and breathe, love's tears leave a wretched mark, dashing down my face again,
While I listen closely for some joyful bird to sing, wishing we weren't so far apart,
Wishing love could grant us kisses, let us embrace, you in my arms again,
I imagine your garden, your blissful face today, a dream I long for with all my heart.