Hunger Lounge: from 30/30 2019

in tame, cemented days like these ensconced in automated ease ah, what a gift again to see hunger, lounging in a tree all tawny bright, not quite replete yet not so fraught as seeking meat would make this golden beast ah, what a gift of joy to dream of your, instead of siren’s scream your…

There is an Onion: Sound Recording 2

So, the hub test-listened, and made a couple of suggestions… here’s version 2. Now, working on the video… Meanwhile, hope you enjoy. Let me know your thoughts.  

There is an Onion by the Stove

There is an onion by the stove brown-papered, seeming unconcerned smug, really, if you come to think of its audacious round bum at rest   Audacious, to just sit there, by the stove so near the fire, so nonchalant and calm Ha – is there anything more patient? or more self-centred than an onion?  …

Animate

you get to an age where you take up your space sink animal roots into animate places, move by instinct and discipline you choose, what to honour what to remember, what unravels in the wake you hold fast where you take up your space you choose the colours, mindful time shades and tints strike the…

Ways We Save the World

  1 mangroves cradling coasts anew, hurricanes to cry safely in their arms 2 black pines in Miyagi, standing sentinel along Tohoku shore, braced against tsunami roar 3 Wangari Maathai, her hands, mind, life to the task, spreading green over African sands 4 Elion in the Kubuqi, planting a Great Green Wall against barbaric sands…

Day 12: Dull Thing

Day 12, our task is to write a poem addressing something dull, or mundane. Sure. Dull Thing dull thing: I could speak here of a knife worn thin it is its metal, atom by atom, infused into all who have shared my kitchen binding us. but a knife is a tool, best kept sharp; or…

Call and Response:O Open Heart

How To Hold You Now there is no way, actually to repay uncounted courage there is no way to say what lines the heart there are no swans no thrumming wings write the sky full that road carries no sign Overboard Li Po had no truck with suffering for art they say, when he fell…

Home Words: Come Out and Play!

Poetry Month is upon us. For  2019 Edmonton Poetry Festival  I’m honoured to be performing at 3 events, sharing the stage with some very fine wordsmiths. If you’re in Edmonton, come on out (I can’t promise I won’t ask you to sing along) – CKUA Studios on the 23rd, 6 PM, CBC Centre Stage at Noon on…

Eyes

heart sinks as wisdom wells up memories stretch, time grows short if, in middle years, we grow another head to watch our back trail, let those new eyes see clearly, the thread that transforms mistake, instinctive thrash, one true brave choice, all of it, into a dance that holds steady; so the forward eyes, even…

Pacific Rim

Spring, training our eyes on the blues of Coal Harbour, rife with wind we rest, cupped in a moment.   How the Salish Sea has changed and still beneath wave and pavement thrums a heart connected to trade seasoned by years of muscling voyage anchored in exuberance – this cloth, this metal, this animal wealth…