Broken

                                                                           Broken
A trucker walks into a synagogue…

I
t sounds like the start of a joke, but it’s not.

Not a joke when this trucker is a crazed anti-Semitic
looking for somewhere to aim his misguided blame
Not when he perpetrates another of the countless massacres
that have become the wretched lore of America’s shame
Not a joke when any old trucker from Pennsylvania
can inexplicably have twenty-one guns registered in his name

It’s not the least bit funny when this same old story happens every other day.
It’s called the same old story, because the same old story is always the same.

It seems to happen
every other day
Lives change, in the blink of an eye
Lives changed, in the worst possible way
So many lives
The same old story
Every other day

Every other day
I can feel the devastation
Sickening me again, as a broken system cracks
Resonating again, as a broken person snaps
The devastation of every other day
The anger, the heartache, the vast impacts
The scourge of so many weapons, the same cold facts
So many lives,
changed in the worst way
Lost, in the devastation,
of every other day

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A young couple decides to start a family…

It sounds like a very nice story, until it’s not.

A young mother pulls on her favourite boots,
excited about
a long-awaited night out with her friends
Drinks and dancing, and all the best intentions,
missing her daughter more with every text she sends
Her husband sends her a photo of their peaceful sleeping baby,
never imagining, that tonight, his wife’s life abhorrently ends

Yet another lost name on the long, sad, deplorable list of every other day.
Three more victims of a system that breaks far more often than it bends.

It seems to happen
every other day
Lives change, in the blink of an eye
Lives changed, in the worst possible way
So many lives
The same sad story
Every other day

Every other day
I can feel the desolation
Weakening me again, as a broken system fails
Resonating again, as a broken child wails
The desolation of every other day
The anguish, the heartbreak, the immense scale
The weight of so many coffins, so many final nails
So many lives stolen
So many broken
So many changed
Changed, in the worst way
The same sad news
The same sad reality
The same desolation,
every other day
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Staycation

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Staycation
There is something to be said
about just staying in
About seventy-two hours, of just us,
a
way from the traffic, the lights, the din
Us, together, happily losing track of time,
while everything we do is win/win
So many great choices when it’s you and me
that we seldom know
exactly where to begin
And it never returns to where we didn’t go
when we realize where we’ve just been

Together, inside of each other’s heart
Sharing time, within each other’s mind
Where the very best of both of us
is remarkably easy to find
Where every word we consider
is purposeful, caring and kind
Where our substantial substance
can relax, and breathe, and slowly unwind
A safe and serene distance
f
rom the lives we’ve left behind

Right at home with all that makes us laugh
Where nothing is too wacky, nothing too bizarre
For our own choice of music, and great conversation,
for our own ideal company, we needn’t go far
A healthy, necessary break for the wallet
A welcome, fuel-efficient rest for the car
Beer and wine, or whatever else we choose,
at less than a quarter the price of a bar
And when we buy it locally, ourselves,
it’s always Canadian money at par

A stay-cation, much like we wanted
A stay-in solution, much like we said
Staying in, and saving for our next adventure
Staying in together, and staying out of the red
Holding hands, while sitting on the couch
Holding each other, while staying in bed
Making love, and making our own meals
With both of our appetites, extremely well fed
Instead of 
spending a pile of money, frivolously,
we spend some quality time staying home instead

There is so much to enjoy about these weekends
It makes little difference what we choose to do
All that matters is that it’s our time, together
And every memory matters, when it’s me with you

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Landing

Landing
Recent memories fill my head
as we soar back to our lives
Back to before, to our every days,
to an enhanced reality of what that is


Memories, of an ideal illusion,

where it is only us for a while
Longer whiles, with no limits
Waking up to nothing but time
Holding on, for as long as we can

Memories of your eyes inside mine
In sun and in moonlight
In the dim of any morning
Looking to each other for what comes next
Knowing that it could be anything

Memories of many more conversations
Of the way your words flow with mine
Of commonalities, and waves of blue
Sharing the ebb and flow our pasts
Understanding how we got to here

Memories of seven wonderful days,
forever part of our own story
An early chapter in a evolving romance 
Written with ease, from moment to moment,
on unbound sheets of crisp revelation


Your head lifts from my shoulder

as we drift slowly down to earth
With our memories safely on board,
the wheels reach for solid ground

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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

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