Answer

              Answer

When am I the happiest?                     IMG_20150304_170112                
When I am with you.
What is the most fun?
The things that we do.
Sports and travel.
Laughter. Games.
Family and friends.
Daughters. Names.
Anna Kate
      and
Erin Elaine.
The answer is always the same.

The source of my contentment?
As clear as can be.
Love and time and us.
Happy Every Day to me.

Rain

           RAIN

I open my window,
a crack,
just to hear you
You have this way,
a knack,
when I’m near you
I close my eyes
and listen 
Imagine the leaves,
their glisten
You relax
and you sooth me
You inspire
and you move me
You put
my mind
at ease
As you breeze
through
the trees
The rhythm
of your tears
It’s music
to my ears
The breath
of a sigh
As the clouds
gently cry

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I open the curtain,
the blind
Open my heart,
my mind
I see your
scattered flight
Framed
in morning light
You relax
and you sooth me
You inspire
and you move me
You change
my mood
in an instance
You wash
my worries
to the distance
The tranquility
of the scene
Sprinkles
on my screen
The essence
The refrain
My affinity
for the rain

 

 

Free

Free

April 8th.

At long last,
I can breathe.
Fill my lungs
with hope
with exuberance
with fresh optimism
Enough of
the incessant reminders
No more
of her suffocating grief
I exhale
only contentment
Breathe only
a sigh of relief

At long last,
I can think.
Open my mind
for creativity
for revelation
for honest expression
Free from
the condescending paralysis
Away from
her sickening superiority
I speak volumes
only for myself
Think clearly
as sole authority

A long last,
I can look.
Cast my glance
to tomorrow
to possibilities

to cloudless horizons
See beyond
the judgemental glare
See past
her irrational ways
I focus
only to the future
Look forward
to my everydays


At long last,

I can breathe.

At long last,
I can think.

At long last,
I see.

At long last…
just be


 

 

Limbo

“As much as I’ve always been driven creatively to move forward toward something bigger, brighter, and unknown, I’m also a deeply-rooted nostalgic. I adore photos, mementos, all bits of ephemera that represent each and every time and space I traverse. I’m a hoarder when it comes to these things…
A flood of memories wash over me when I find these treasures, all of them new again, focused by the perspective I’ve gained in the years since. It’s a beautiful kind of limbo, seeing yourself, your past alongside your present…”
-Mick Fleetwood from Play On…Now, Then, And Fleetwood Mac The Autobiography-

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Limbo
There I am, sitting on the couch

Looking as content as I can be
But what makes me smile now
Are the faces of the other three
Friendships, made in a flash
Cultivated with laughter, and cold beers
The time of my life, so many times
Great nights, that turned into years

Sometimes I sit with a lost friend
If only for a brief while
I gaze into her playful green eyes
I remember his reluctant smile
Realize just how alive they really were
And how precious that our time is
That contagious spirit, so uniquely hers
The distinctive laugh, that could only be his

A note, a post card, a poem

Feelings that are, and/or used to be
A letter filled with distant love
Words, meant only for me
Wee hour messages that I have written
Hastefully penned, but never sent
A shoebox, filled with emotions
Papers lined with what we meant

Flipping through the pages and photos
Snapshots of my life until now
People and places, that shaped who I am
Images of who, of where, when and how
Framed pictures of significant moments
Rectangular reminders of family and friends
Travels together on this wondrous journey
An evolving road, that curves and bends

It’s a beautiful kind of limbo
Spent with people that I know
A transcendent state of mind
And I can choose where to go
The full gambit of my experiences
The love, the pain, the pleasure
Memories, that take me away and back

Moments, I will always treasure

Camping, Christmas, the dinner table
My whole family, together in one place
The truest essence of who I am today
So much influence, etched in each face
My Mom, my Dad, right there for me
Whenever when my heart yearns 

I am able to go home, again and again
With happy, and melancholy returns

Time-lapse capsules of my two daughters
Wide-eyed infants, in the back seat of the car
From half-day kindergarten to incredible teens
Ever-emerging lives, chronicled so far
First steps, dance recitals, and graduation
Lovingly preserved, in albums or on DVD
Even when they seem too far to reach
I can find them here, in front of me

Awards, team photos, newspaper clippings
Memories of play that are always fond
Reminders of an enduring love of sports
Teammates, championships, a life-long bond
Wondering what became of those I coached
Peewee signatures on a thank-you card
Events and people that helped me to grow
Character built, through practicing hard

These boxes that I’ve moved many times
To different homes, to cities and towns
Different cabinets containing my life
All of us sharing the ups and downs
I can open up whenever I want to
These memories, of importance to me
Their significance, personally priceless
Sentimental value, I can always see

It’s a beautiful kind of limbo
Sitting there, beside myself
A transcendent state of mind
Brought down from a shelf
My life, captured in moments
The past, seen through today’s eyes 
Images, taking me away and back
Suspended, for now, while time flies

 

Affecting

 

     An influential soul can affect a life. 
     If we are lucky, someone comes along when we are lost or misplaced and makes an impression that lasts a lifetime.  Sometimes all we need is a boost or a new direction to get us going on our way.  It is those people who realize that their influence has possibilities – and who realize that possibilities are endless — who affect lives. 
     Quite often, it is a teacher who is that influential soul. Your life path may be altered by their inspiration, motivation, imagination or subtle persuasion.
     The right person at the right time.

Affecting

It might be only one simple gesture
that changes the course of things

One turn of phrase, or turn in the road
One solid notion that a teacher brings.
An influential soul, who can affect a life
The extra yard, that goes an extra mile
The ability to inspire a want to aspire 
That singular soul, who finds the smile.

Positive thinking, meets untapped potential
Opening a mind, by opening a door 
Initiating the urge to take on the world
Lessening the less, to motivate the more.
 Noticing that possibilities are indeed endless
Giving more of yourself, despite the clock

The right person at the right time
You’re welcomed in, yet you always knock.

Making a difference in their world
by sharing what’s unique inside of you
That place where experiences live 
and understanding comes into view.
Where your common sense prevails
Expressed, in uncommon ways
Where your perception turns a page
and affects their future days.

Every year brings renewed opportunity
with a new group, beginning anew 
Fresh influences and malleable clay 
Shaping character with what you do.
You matter in these impressionable minds
It’s the substance that’s in your style 
Asking only for an honest effort 
You make it worth their while.

Inspiration found, with subtle persuasion
Motivation, to where you shine the light
Imagination, in the eyes of tomorrow 
  The vision to see the higher height.
Encouragement and understanding

Providing balance to their uphill climb
An unselfish stamp on an emerging life
The right person at the right time.

Making a difference in this world
by sharing the life inside of you
That place where experience lies 
and humility comes into view.
Where your common sense prevails
Expressed, in uncommon ways
Where perception turns an important page
and affects their future days.

For all the right reasons,
you affect the rhyme.
The right person
at the right time.

 

Fíon

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Fíon

Two glasses of red

  A night filled with stars
The sky shimmering
  over the quiet lake
Too long since
we had a night like this
  Moonlight reflecting
  each sip we take

Our lives move along
like the gentle breeze
Our hearts require
more nights like these

Two glasses of red
 The night finally ours
Time spent embracing
the life we share
Too long since
we had a night like this
Moonlight enhancing
our why and where

Our lives move along
like waves to the shore
So raise your glass
and I’ll pour us more

Butterfly?

Butterfly?

Epihany

The same stubborn scenario
The same view every night
A silhouette, close to the edge
A moth under the light
The echo of my thoughts
On infinite repeat
A schizophrenic mind field
Of two and a half feet

Turned one hundred and eighty
In a blanketed cocoon
A butterfly to a moth
Under the light of the moon
A stark and palpable silence
An insurmountable rut
Urges, kept at arm’s length
Until my eyes flutter shut

Take me back to my muse
Release me from this storm
From the cold of my creation
The bitter back to the warm
From this tempest in a teapot
 These chilling winds of blame
 The frigid reality each night
The moth back to the flame

An exasperating tug of war
Across a span of diminished hope
There has to be some solace
Near the end of my rope
Nothing that I can do or say
Changes, impervious to gain
The collateral damage is done
A consequence to the pain

So many months, eaten away
The thin fabric of a ruse
Resentful of my own creation
 A moth disguised as a muse
Rose-coloured tunnel vision?
Wishful thinking all along?

For the sanity of lost time
It would help if I was wrong

Take me back to my muse
Release me from this regret
From the pall of uncertainty
That hangs over me yet
From the now back to the then
The difference of day to night
To open arms and an open mind
To a butterfly, in a better light

Morn

 

 

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Morn

On the still waters
of  Mulville Bay
I stand alone
and greet the day

Nature welcomes me
with open arms
Surrounding my boat
with her obvious charms

The fresh smile of sunrise
The grace of a lingering moon
 The dance of two water bugs
Greetings from a loon

The soft whisper of the trees
The cheerful burst of a frog
 Announcing his presence
from a shoreline log

A passing muskrat
gives a pre-dive nod
One last greeting

 before I cast my rod

The exultation I feel
is crisp and pure
I break the surface
with the splash of my lure

We are in this together

and the message is clear
The morning is awake
and it knows I am here

The murmur of my cares
seems a world away
 as I fish, accompanied
by Mulville Bay

 

 

 

Squashed

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Squashed

She had
no time

for us.
I had
no patience

to wait.
While she
found
the time

to keep 
the promises
she made.

Plans made
for us
months ahead.

One night
away

in a different bed.
To feed
a love
we left unfed.
To bandage wounds
that
slowly bled.

Convenient excuses

from her
instead.
Obvious signs
that hope
was dead.

One dinner
for us
and maybe one dance.

One night
for us
months in advance.
To try
to find
our lost romance.
To save
our family
from circumstance.

Squashed
by her
without a glance.
An obvious sign
that we had
no chance.

No time.
No patience.

No hope. 
 Unwilling
to even try.

No time.
No patience.
No chance.

We both know
the reasons
why.

Perpetuity

Perpetuity
It’s not the barrel of a gun
but it’s aimed
right at you
An accusatory tone
loaded
with pointed words
Cutting
Gutting
Sharp as knives
Unfounded
Ungrounded
Affecting lives
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An unyielding hostility

cast out
with icy purpose
A dark and bitter place 
beyond
the point of no return
Weakness
Bleakness
Harsh and cold
Automatic
Autocratic
Purposefully oversold
Unforgiven
Unforgotten

To have and to hold
Unbending
Never-ending
Perpetually told

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