guide this vessel

The simplicity of a fish jumping out of the water or the blow of a ships horn has enough light to guide this vessel through any weather.

free healthcare?

I sit bound to wheelchair for the first time in my 26 years. My knee locked in confines and a foreign key in hand. Eyes surveying injuries with locomotive thoughts “I wonder what happened to him?”

I view the shoes on nurses and medics scurrying to and fro- they look comfy… more comfy than mine. Who needs shoes anyways when you’re confined to a wheel chair?

On my way to the hospital while I was packing my bag with full understanding I would be in for a long day, I packed two books JK’s Big Sur, and Krakauer’s Into Thin Air. My notebook and pen, not just any pen- the only pen I like writing with- the Uniball and I even questioned grabbing a second incase this one ran out of ink. But, alas, I didn’t because I couldn’t bear the pain of hobbling the few feet to the cup of pens on my dresser. I also chose to use the washroom in the minutes before leaving not to be stuck relieving myself on a toilet that has sat god knows how many asses.

I really wish I grabbed another pen. It’s odd how you never know where your life will lead you- just yesterday I was set on jumping bike and heading to Tobermory on a whim. The haste weather changed my departure, or idea of departure to next week and that action spawned me to call Cyndi since I was staying at home, which led to roller-skating, thus being stuck to a wheelchair now in Mac hospital with a  dying pen and my blasted knee.

Free healthcare

You delicious oxymoron

Free you are not

I pay by being walked passed hour on end

I pay by being labeled as a number

I pay by being overlooked

I pay by being crammed in room after room

I pay by endless waiting and waiting

I pay by time away from work and family

I pay by sitting in pain while I get bumped down the list

I pay because you don’t hire more doctors and nurses

I pay because the government doesn’t fund new hospitals

I pay

Free healthcare

Free you are not

pour my heart

I pour my heart out hoping that youll listen

I know im the one that left, but now my hearts twitching

I miss all those nights cooking in the kitchen

Switching to the bedroom, kissing, shoulders bitten, breasts glisten

club 500

Trapped underground

Cave-like enclosure

Dugouts beneath walkways

Sunk in spirit and mind

The heartbeat draws mortal zombies into unison

Pounding flesh, raw flesh

Robot, mechanized flesh

I too become entranced

My body enveloped in a coat of swinging limbs

each new day

And each new day the slate is washed clean

With its ferocious pull, gullied

Deep within the loins of the horizons husks

And each new day footprints are left soulless

Weighed by the gripping force

That crowns and thrones eternal time

And each new day we rise to millions of looming eyes

Snaking their odd little heads

Only inches from their foxhole

And each new day we escape

Hoping to lose ourselves

In a world that applauds apathy

And each new day we become bombarded with lunatics

That are unknowingly desensitizing our taste

For madness

And each new day guilt engulfs our lungs

Filling it with a lifeline

Of abandoned opportunities and second guesses

And each new day we gorge on outrageous manifestations

Catered by an expendable government

Who’s looking out for our best interests

And each new day controlled chaos patrols the streets

Handing niggers life sentences

For crimes they were forced to commit to survive within a corrupt regime

And each new day we are forced to hide our true selves

From the moulded minds

Who might take haste in our liberties

And each new day we stand and solute destruction-

Is just another day for us

To live with the fearsome burden of survival

And each new day we tell ourselves that we are free-

And it’s not until we want to stress that freedom

That we realize what little we have

a little diddy on life

Life

Exists beneath our feet

Each step we take

Life depletes

So watch your step

Before you reach

A leech or dog caught

Off its leash.

east of prime

I take time

And shake it to shape signs

Then break it to make lines

That relate when I create rhymes

Each piece of the puzzle

That huddles in my leased mind

Gets muddled and befuddled

When it’s released east of prime

Where my streets get heaped with grime

Which were once preached sublime

Until I retreat on these two feet of mine

Teeth clenched and bleached with wine;

Why does my speech become impeached-

When I speak my mind?

My dreams teamed with feats that seem reamed in twine

But these breach don’t need to peak its climb

Because pieces arrive that we can’t piece in time

So we must piece our puzzle with peace in mind

Each piece at a time

i feel reassured

I feel reassured the now comes with an extra battery included and it’s double wrapped to ensure no tampering.

I feel reassured that some faceless corporation tells me there are no trans-fats in their new all-swine burger.

I feel reassured televisions are now the norm inside obtrusive steel frames that we call vehicles.

I feel reassured knowing that Maybelline labels their lipstick with a sticker that says “This product has not been tested on animals”- because, I thought for a second, there was a land of dolled up pigs that I was missing out on.

I feel reassured that the youth still face the same insecurities that I once had in grade school.

I feel reassured knowing that with every Starbucks muy grande flavour of the month, light foamed cinnamon coated, shaved Belgian chocolate, hand whipped, festively decorated, mocha el cappuccino- two cents is recycled back into the country that they have viciously raped- all in the name of a bean.

I feel reassured that every single company that uses China as a hub to manufacture its goods- ended up winning a game of rock, paper, scissors to company with a conscious.

I feel reassured knowing that even though my currency is depreciating rapidly, it still remains at a higher value than 99.8% of the rest of the world.

I feel reassured in Bob Dylan’s famous line “the times are a changing”- and now people have the right to say they are offended by Santa Claus, God, and national anthems..

I feel reassured that the new Louis Vuitton purse costs as much as a mid level Mercedes- which is still enough to feed and clothes one of Madonna’s adopted kids for a lifetime.

I feel reassured that we will never know the truth behind 9-11- even though we know what we were told is not the truth.

I feel reassured that my children will be born into a world- where they will be micro-chipped for MY convenience.

I feel reassured that guns are making a comeback in America.

I feel reassured that tobacco companies will constantly be at war with themselves.

I feel reassured that the price of oil will forever fluctuate without myself ever having a say.

I feel reassured that I may never truly know what’s in McDonald’s special sauce.

I feel reassured that the media will forever act like piranhas and eat every story to death before leaving behind the bones and moving hastily onto the next tragedy.

I feel reassured that I had to leave my country to make an honest dollar.

I feel reassured that our government is doing everything in their power to help the economy in times of despair- rather than stomping it to death, like previous bushmarks on society.

I feel reassured that we’ll continue to sell the majority of our national commodities to other countries- only to turn around and purchase them from less developed nations at a far better price.

I feel reassured that the U.S. was on the verge of electing an aged mule- and its trusty gun slinging Alaskan friend.

I feel reassured that I can die from eating chicken &lettuce or drinking a glass of water.

I feel reassured that washing your hands after using the bathroom is universally understood- and that posting signs in restaurants are just to keep the customer at ease.

I feel reassured that condoms are 99.9% effective.

I feel reassured that sweatpants will make a wicked comeback.

I feel reassured that bullies will get what they deserve and the bullied will go on to become shallow millionaires.

I feel reassured that alcohol makes me a better dancer and lover.

I feel reassured that duct tape will always remain a handy mans number one tool.

I feel reassured that thin will always be in. And that being healthy will unfortunately not always be the majority of the people’s motivation.

I feel reassured that I can always count on my mother asking “So, are you interested in any new girls these days?”- Even when I’m on the other side of the world.

I feel reassured that armies will continue to patrol the streets with intimidation, rather than candy store owners handing out lollipops.

I feel reassured that outside my school- toy gun salesmen wait hours on end luring students with gimmicks of ‘real loading action and life like sound’.

I feel reassured that movies and video games will continue to morph the youths mind- to where they believe, they too can actually take over the world like Nicolas Cage .

I feel reassured that there will never be a taxi around when I need one and a swarm when I don’t.

I feel reassured that for 99 cents more, I can make my triple burger a quadruple.

I feel reassured that no one knows what I’m thinking- unless they bother to ask.

I feel reassured that thugs are only looking for acceptance.

I feel reassured that I can pick up a novel, and it can take me to a far away place.

I feel reassured that a stray bullet has more bite than a stray dog.

I feel reassured that there are places in this world, where life is not measured by the accumulation of things, but by what we have to offer.

I feel reassured that god could quite possibly have a hot girlfriend.

I feel reassured that nothing can beat a cold beer on a hot day.

I feel reassured that nothing can beat mama’s home cooking.

I feel reassured that Dumb and Dumber will continue to make me laugh when I’m in my hundreds.

I feel reassured that students going into university are too young to know what they want to do for the rest of their lives.

I feel reassured that dreams are never out of reach.

I feel reassured that if I party Thursday, I can always sleep it off Friday after work.

I feel reassured that everyone will be getting laid- while ill undoubtedly be going home alone.

I feel reassured that the ink from my pen will run out, before my mind does of thoughts.

I feel reassured... holy moly... I feel reassured!

silence speaks to me

Silence speaks to me-

Not in tongues

But in deep visions on

Murals leaking graffiti

Each breathing and beating

Breathing and beating

Repeating

The moulded surface

Lay wide eyed

Consoling the seasons

That shed its crust

Each pushing with courage

Pushing with courage

Until it’s nourished

Why is it intriguing

Walking these easy streets

Seeking out teachers?

The streets are

The leechers

Creeping

With creatures

Seething, preaching

Each one coloured

Believers

I walk the streets

Capturing conversations like photographs

wake and bake

I tipped my cap

And bade adieu to my life of latter

My life of wonder

My life of unknown

My life of gamble

My foreign life

Only to touch down and don a new cap

With matching apron

And so I donned my apron

Now layered, caked and doused with ingredient

My life of kneading, mixing, and cutting

My life of timers, buzzers, and burning

My life of flour, eggs, and sugar

My life of recipe

Only to squeeze myself into the apron

And comfortable shoes

And so I tossed on my shoes

And walk the streets and forest in search of light

My life of weight

My life of bricks and mortar

My life of direction

My life of forced passion

Only to picture myself as a machine

With eroding metal

So I polished my metal

And set out for adventure in my new world with new mindset

My new life of wonder

My new life of unknown

My new life of gamble

My new foreign life

taganga

The sun’s in retreat upon my castle

            Perched abreast the town,

Thatched atop bamboo and reeds

            Pockets of salsa wave from hill to hill,

I, king in nature

            Muse at the local futbol

                        Parading ‘neath my nose,

With feet perched

            I Size the infinite ocean,

Chirps of foreign birds,

            Swatting the persistent fly,

                        Strung fish knotted through aged fingers,

                                    Baked bodies at sea,

Peecheeleelo and I

            Are eaten alive raw,

A still fierce heat,       

            Blazes off tin roofs

                        That pierce though tree tops,

 The swaying big top

            Echoes circus torment

                        From wild barefooted children,

A single road

            Bearer of life and loss,

                        All while the sun vanishes in one bite

drunk rooster

The clock read 12 15am

But the roosters had a plan of their own

Raging drunk cuckolds

Blaring throughout the fishing village

“Are you mad”? I shouted

There isn’t an ounce of light left

To which the rooster replied

“Fuckofffff”

stuck

Stuck, trapped, no way out

Stuck stealing the sun, selling scag on sketchy street corners, no way out

Stuck cup in hand, cawing for change, crying for one second, no way out

Stuck walking the curb, with intentions of hooking for dollars, no way out

Stuck chained, barred, jailed, never knowing what it’s like to be free, no way out.

Stuck flushing the womb to a mother of 9 in a one room shack, no way out

Stuck between both parents, at wits end, fighting to stay together, no way out

Stuck abandoned, alone, tossed aside, a mere mishap on society, no way out.

Stuck fighting the system, breathing injustice, continuously shut down by the law, no way out

Stuck jobless, degree deemed useless, feeling betrayed, no way out

Stuck searching for a way, lost in the world, unsure of yourself, no way out

Stuck, burning eyed, surrounded by war, face to face with violence, no way out

Stuck diving in dumpsters, selling stolen jewellery with twisted mad delusions, no way out

Stuck elbow deep in trash, harsh winter front, cardboard slums, no way out

Stuck limbs misshapen, eyes leering intensely, freak show of society, no way out.

Stuck, trapped, within yourself

bus ride

Rolling through the hills of Colombia- where mountains kiss the clouds and the streets scream life. Our bus sways to the vibrant salsa. Let it rain!

around they went and well deserved

Miriam

Brunette and bosomy

Multi tongued and sweet

Taxi through Tulcan

Hotel Chifa feast

Lefts and rights

One ways of style

Passing souls

Embrace

The while

Guard down

Eyes glued

To the score

Vibrant centre

Viva Ecuador

Alive

Exploding life

Presence glows

Pool halls

Cheep liquor flows

Victory

Streets run wild

Horns ablaze

Found beauty

Left in amaze

-          In a double mattress bed in the Hotel Unicornio after Ecuador won a game to face Mexico in the finals  June.3.08

the road to tulcan

            Seated with feet

Perched and jest

Laughter and madness

Barrels and twines

            Incantations of death

                                                                               

 -mad bus ride to Tulcan June.3.08

lost battle

My weakening stomach, suffering pain and tumult- while a cavalry of steed, stomping, troshing, and making a mockery of the foothills begin to storm; I lay motionless annihilated from the battle, helpless and pathetic, to wounds and the truths that lay skin deep.

working man poems

Its dark but I wake up

Cause I have to work today

Left my bed a mess

Got dressed

To go make minimum wage

And I can’t pay my bills

So my heads always in pain

And while most people get wet

I’m just walking in the rain

Overhauling

Underpaid

Over timing

Minus wage

Over worked

Under fed

Life is over

Die instead

Im a working man

Wake up at the crack of dawn

Im a working man

Clearing brush and moving logs

Im a working man

Pulling levers on the job

Im a working man

And I sing my working songs

Im a working man

Raking leaves up off the lawn

Im a working man

Getting paid to move along

Im a working man

Scolded for doing something wrong

Im a working man

And I’ll be working till I’m gone

                                                Oct 22-10

The tree rambles arched

Aged with aching arms

People passing with lonesome stares

As if they were reliving an unfair childhood memory

“What’s wrong with the tree?”

                                                Oct 21-10

Death is a birch

Suited in harness

And armor

Decked with malicious

Weapons and fueled by pure instinct-

Though molded by rigorous training

                He sinks his teeth into flesh

And with agility and raw power

                Waltz’s his way into position-

Speedily trying his subject into submission

Sparking the ignition-

The chainsaw rev’s with wielding force

                Flesh eating teeth

Hungry for any poor ol’ sap

The stench of burning gasoline

                Stitches together frameworks of fantasy

He enters-

Lifeless limbs hang gnarled

Waiting to be sentenced-

The verdict… guilty!

As the flying chain screams through their flesh-

The noose whips down

Stealing the last breath from his severed limb

The rope is lowered

                Leaving the untying of these limbs-

Only to be dragged off to the wood chipper

                                                                Oct 20-2010

I see my jacket

Hanging from a branch

On a far off tree-

Sitting on the back of the chipper

Its lunch time and

And this Mondays gotten to me

Its those damn 5 hour sleeps-

I can only do them so before im just plain sluggish

That on top of missing my morning coffee

Because my pot never self-brewed when it was supposed too

My sandwich is just alright and I wish I had something tastier

Like another one of those juicy burgers from last night

But nope

Just 5 more hours till im home and I can throw my jacket on the floor

                                                                                Oct 25 2010

Long day blues:

I wake up at a quarter to 7

And roll myself out of the bed

Get picked up by Ty

And drive on the high

Arrive with my eyes heavy as lead

So we load up the trucks for an hour

Then stop at Tim Horton’s for more

Now its 10 by the time

The work bell will chime

And the loads doubled in scores

So we bundle the wood as it rains down

And bring it to the side of the curb

Throw in the chipper

All the bit quicker

While the boss passes by without word

The lunch bell begins to whistle

But I work on through the break

The wheelbarrow moves

And buckets do to

Thanks to the use of a rake

Now that all the woods moved to the front

And just one last step in play

Chip the wood by the curb

In one quick turn

And then well call it a day

Now that all sounds swell and nice

But the machine broke down from the start

The wood piled high

While the clocks ticking by

Breaking the bosses black heart

So now with the word load upon us

And brie with a truck on the way

We wait and we wait

With anger and hate

And can’t wait to finish the day

Were chugging on fumes and were spent

While the work keeps pressing on

The trees are in ties

Were left cut from all sides

While we sing this depressing song

With the clock at just seven

And the work day has finally passed

Cuts on our hands

Already with plans

To go home and sit on my ass

                                                Oct 26 2010

Dave Wilby is a cunt

Imagine a thankless man

A man consumed in himself

To which he cannot see the lives he’s affecting

Nor does he care to-

A man whose sole purpose is to stroke his own ego

A man who threatens your livelihood daily-

A man who abuses his power each morning

A man that uses the weak as a punching bag

A man that abuses his power each morning

A man that uses the weak as a punching bag

A man that is just a plain ol’ cunt-

A man whom I wish to write about no further.

when the leaves fall

Clinging, sucking nourishment

Head held high

The fight

Troopers they are-

Against

                Twisting, winds

                Pelting elements

                Miniature jaws

                And five fingers of youth

But, one by one

                                In sums the hung            

                                                                That clung are strummed

Dancing no longer-

They fall-

                And a severe death awaits

trapped within urban solitude

Trapped within urban solitude

The only child

Walled,

Wedged between mother’s arms and tongue stuck

No. A lie.

My twisted psyche achieving boil

Erupting! War!!

Constance vs. change

I crave the life which I don’t lead

I question the path which I’ve led astray

I need a solution for me to impede

What lay the solution I must question post heed

Need!

Need!

Need!

What do I need?

Beep! Time for change!