Archive for November, 2016



November 15, 2016

Things seen are the reaction of light reflecting off an object. The thing being observed is only possible to see by being observed, which suggests interference with the natural evolution potential.
That it happens suggests introspection an intrinsic part of nature.

When I consider how that plays out within parameters that include self-reflection, those times more beneficial include closer examination. I record the data that allows understanding how I can better enhance my world view, finding a more cohesive fit, finding the ways to shine.

Simply said, the eyes of the heart see the self more clearly when reflecting light.


A song of the moon

November 14, 2016

Whether in wax or wane, she is a constant, even when clouds hide her light.
Unbreakable bone china facade of delicacy, mischievous cheshire cat smile, depending on the day.
The poet in me demands I speak of cold tendrils of light finding their way into shadowy cracks, between slats of window blind, making new paths in darkened forests. Of a pale fingered enchantress who knows all the shortcuts through dream country. Of a barren landscape that is bright with promise. Of an intoxication that make drive a man mad when she beckons, for even the sea comes when she calls.


Ghost story

November 13, 2016

There are houses that are haunted for seemingly no reason. Inhabiting the space between street and alley, between the bustle of midday and the never quiet of city latenight. Streetlights don’t penetrate, cast no glow on their shadowed interiors.

She didn’t die here, it was far removed from anywhere she’d desired to visit. Her dreams exceeding the lifespan she was given, now a memory of identity tangled in the bushes and overgrown gardens of a property forgotten.

This house, empty of life probably seemed a reasonable place to leave her.

We will do our best to make her feel welcome.



November 11, 2016

I never understood what it meant. I never understood why there was such sadness, such solemnity. For me, the bright colour of the flower was a jolly juxtaposition to the grey of november, sky streaked with the tears of old men I had no connection to. It was an opportunity to fold felt poppies and blow kisses with exaggerated voluptuousness, another thing I didn’t grasp the weight of until much later.

I hated that it fell on my mum’s birthday.

“Can’t they use another?” I asked once.
“I’m very happy to share it.” She said, her smile heavy with perspective.



November 10, 2016

You gave me so very much.

You gave me poetry without boundaries, you gave me permission to be dark, sexual, unapologetic. You gave me romance without the limitations of love, you gave me love intrinsically intertwined with sweat doused limbs in the pre dawn hours. You gave me the stark beauty of a cheap hotel room lit up with the lights of a city that never knew our names, even as we whispered them to each other in a tangle of overwashed sheets.

You gave me courage to have a voice that never needed music to sing.

Thank you, Leonard.



November 9, 2016

And here I find myself preempted, as though a stretch were trapped in my limbs, but confinement won’t allow for expression. Stymied, I rail in consternation, the fear of never being able to speak my mind, to broaden myself beyond a horizon that should have faded from sight in a rear view mirror long ago. Incrementally, my fear gives way to anger.

It is rage, it is righteous and it is tempting.
But it won’t just burn those I direct it at, fire knows nothing of favouritism.
If I give in to hate, I have to live within the ashes.



November 9, 2016

I lost sight of what was important when the world turned red and seemed to catch fire all around me. The gentle turning of the globe, the rotation toward and away from the sun, the inhale and the exhale of the breath in my body, the ebb and flow of tides more timeless than my brain actually understands, though it pretends at grasping for fear of seeming ignorant.

These fears of what will come, they are constructs bred into me by those who are scared they too, are ignorant.

Faced with that, all I can do is embrace beauty, constantly.

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