Tag Archives: survival

Bare Windows


I look out upon the landscape

broken hearts lay everywhere

no covers on these windows

no shades no shelter from harsh mouthed mothers of opinion

no words of wisdom or compassion too few hands to care

but I hear night stars still tell wonder stories

and if we listen they will shine our fears away

when we feel lost or sad or lonely

when we’re tossed into chaos winds of if only

silent stars are rising up to guide the way


Silent Ghosts of Abundance


I was huff running on a treadmill in the utilitarian grey zone

one of many in a row monitoring heart rates and breathing hard

listening to Hayden or Taj Mahal or maybe The Tragically Hip

who can remember when the setting is permanently on shuffle?


I was repeating a mantra something about the importance of anti-heroism

visualizing myself not a speed sprinter for speed is not in vocabulary here

but an enduring ego long distance never surrender steady on medium paced trotter

Light-footed I do not like the sound of a heavy stomp landing


I was watching through myopic eyes the silent stealth of the fit and semi fit and average

listening for the underbeat of a motivating cue and aware of free flowing thoughts

You you you holographs suspended in the ether I know you or knew you

Dormant for one hundred years but alive and well dancing in your effect


I cannot run forever going nowhere while staring straight ahead into the blur

Nor can I thank you now from this distance and with my voice grown so weak

Unless I believe you present for this fragment next to me after and through time

Yes maybe that’s all there is or what must do, good after gratitude is still gratitude


Where are you where am I scrolling light years between faces and half dreams

I welcome your resurfacing to remind me of all the memories hovering beyond reach

randomly appearing unbidden as I forget about trying to remember your names

You whose temporary life collisions held the keys unlocking doors of obstruction

gifted generously so I might pass this far intact. Cumulative and barely panting.



In that moment you have a choice

There’s always a choice.

Someone free said that once.


In that moment when you’re convinced

you’ve heard the crack of bone

your leaking heart losing faith

dissonant grace

felt it, felt yourself





You know with certainty something has broken

What comes next?

Even if you don’t know yet if there’s anything there

worth groping for, worth saving—

Can you hear the music through the roar and rumble

Can you still hum some favourite tune

a few bars to hold onto

some sorrowful blues maybe

some cowboy gush of lonely bravado

some whimsical ditty

to carry you through?


Who or what do you cling to

after bottom’s fractured and you weightless

somewhere sinking

you’re in too deep

drowning drowning going down

do you flail take on dank waters in staccato swallows

have you made ready key and timbre of

your Desperation Shout

And who in this wilderness will hear?

What foolish imp inside convinced you

land stumbler you could swim against

this ten thousand years determined and sinister tide

Did you read it somewhere?

Who was the sage who counselled

never skip introductions or footnotes

never accept half promises or a one way ride

never look behind

you know what’s buried there

raise a hand

give yes open flutter up receive

Water bearer water sign no warranty

dreamy titles won’t help you here:

you select flounder swim

speak or drown.