Thursday, January 26, 2012

Crazy Clown Time...

If you haven't heard the new David Lynch musical offering Crazy Clown Time, I suggest you go get it. It is like everything else Lynch makes, disconcerting but good.

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Heroes on the move...


The Sea Shepherd Society prepare to take on the Yushin Maru, one of the flagship vessels of the Japanese whaling fleet. Japan has ignored the pleas of the rest of the world and taken up with the whale hunt again in the protected whale sanctuary of the Southern Ocean.
I wish them all the best and may the force of good be with them.

Saturday, January 21, 2012

The Republican Nominations...


And meanwhile, in the Carolinas, the precursor to fanciful notions gone awfully awry, is taking place. God help us...

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Gas Town

streets of brick and rain
chains swing back and forth
in the wind
white lights
twinkle in the night
shopping carts up and down Water Street
bottles and cans
beer and wine
spirits are bright
late into the night
party below
music thumps
line-ups
cars pass slowly
a man sells flowers
to people waiting in line
to get in
waiting for a taxi
tourists shop for t shirts
for the one in their family
that had to stay home
they could not get the time off
perhaps they needed some time
for themselves anyway
chain link and alleyways
just behind the facade
of the one block buildings
It's like a city in itself
An image frozen in time
But in on the latest styles
Newspapers and radio stations
buses and pedestrians
red light green light
stop
go

it's official now...

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

2 Handz


love is...
foolproof
tidy
messy
old
young
resistant
accepting
encompassing
simple
complicated
truthful
pure
profound
creative
love

holding food court



Music fit for a corpse
Not even the dead
The air was filled with exhaust and dread
and yesterday's talk
Push, pull, understand
what was expected of you
Alone in the crowd
The server wipes away the coffee stains
The new clothes in the bag, please
I can't believe that record shop is still open
The elevators go all the way to the roof
Or the basement
Crowds negotiate their way to the exit signs
To their cars
waiting outside
in between the puddles or the piles of snow
Department stores are filled with dreams for cheap
I found myself in one the other day
It seemed a mistake
I let myself out
The winter air felt good on my face

the 18th floor


This place makes me feel new
But a bit reckless and characteristically resistant
A bit official
In the way that an owl might be
Perched up here, no fear
Not that I have many
Fears, that is
Maybe a shark attack
or a plane crash
I sit here and tell stories
To myself
And listen to songs
Watch the trains go by
It hasn't been long but I miss it when I am gone
The light is magic
The river runs through it
Always moving, churning
Waterfront lands in metamorphose
Tar, log booms, falling down docks
Tall grass where it can find space
Empty parking spots dot the lots
A rusty fence lies in semi repose
Old trucks and trailers
retired but not forgotten
The creosote ties maintain order
While crows and pigeons reluctantly share the air
Traffic passes and nary stops
The bell rings at the crossing
Antique street fits all that's unique
Pillars and pavement
I embrace this place
My memories are clear
And so is the future
It is here
now

Saturday, January 7, 2012

on creativity

"Creativity is almost a mortal sickness. It’s not easy to be happy and creative because with creativity comes great anxiety, effort and desire for love. To be creative, you have to be curious, generous and want to try to understand. People often ask me: “How do you remain creative?” The secret is still to be loved and to want to be loved."
-Phillipe Starck, designer.

Friday, January 6, 2012

#tigerblood


The shadow of you on the wall
grows in size
the sunshine dapples
I left a trace of myself
out there in the world
You can still see the Sun when it rains
on the way to your place
The singer sings the song
That takes away your fear
My dear
Heavier than heaven
Is what you said
On your way out the door
The wheel of time turns
The best of albums are churned out
An el Dorado of cold nights and lonely travels
And guitar songs
Salvation
Surrender of hearts
The higher power
Creator
I get the feeling of enchantment
but dissolution and no solution
for your institutions
And your war of attrition
All these nations
written on their faces
A disgrace
A waste of time and space
A train off the tracks
We cannot relax
As long as the lunatics have the axe
They grind and find ways
To buy another day
Another life
Lost, the cost of all this is staggering
We all pay for it
We all wait for it
We yearn for the urn of our own ashes
We lash out with the whip of distinction
The treason is so real you can taste it
A man in cuffs isn't enough
For me to be happy
I wanna see him dead
For the misdeeds
of a common miscreant
But if you wanna talk justice
It's just us in this conversation
And nobody else
The way you felt is the way you liked
The spike is hidden in the tree of your heart
Leave the trap for the merciful
The weak, the ones who brave it all
For those who have not yet been born
The scorn I have heard constantly
Since I was young
I was eaten by the old
My wings clipped
My story not told
The first time I left
I never came back
I did not want to live it again
My old friends
They wouldn't understand
A child is okay to learn
But I can't anymore
I have learned enough
Now I drive with the radio off



Monday, January 2, 2012

Year of the Dragon


Well, hello, my friends and welcome to the year 2012. It sounds strange to say that, doesn't it? I have been deep in thought for a few days now. This is what I do around this time of year. It is triggered by the obviousness of the passage of time. Christmas and, of course the ubiquitous nature of New Year's Eve. It is the quintessential advertisement for your quickly approaching old age, followed almost immediately by your death.
I guess birthdays are sort of like this, too, but birthdays always come with less fanfare. There isn't a ball drop or fireworks to let you know that yet another year has passed and more unfulfilled dreams have escaped you.
I know, this all sounds dour and morose but what the hell do you people know me for? It ain't pretty, the shit I drag out from the darkness. I may love life and live it to a reasonably acceptable standard but when I put fingers to keyboard, I tell it like it is. Not that it is all bad, because it isn't. I write about that, too.
One thing I have noticed of late is that I have strayed a bit from the politics and have become a little more self-centred, by including more poems and pictures from my own life.
I guess maybe I should be on Facebook to do that because that fucking place is the Grand Central Station of narcissistic and uneventful shit.
Although, I have joined a few groups and private pages on Facebook, to escape Junior's first tooth or the progress of the latest flu virus on desperately dull housewives and that has been rewarding.
When you have the opportunity to screen the chumps, it becomes a useable medium once again. Online communities are growing and I think FB was the catalyst for all that. Suddenly, a billion people are connected.
Sorry, I get on these tangents.

This year had the added mortal challenge of the death of two of my pals's fathers, one of whom I had known since I was 12 years old. I hadn't seen him in the last few years but it has an ephemeral effect on you all the same. Time is more precious than gold and when the reminders come and smash you in the head like that, it can register profound effects.
The creep of your own life speeds up, year after year. I think a lot of the baby boomer problems with depression comes from the fact that they are getting old and they simply don't want to. Their bodies are failing them and they cannot believe it. It hurts.
Our western culture is fanatical about the so-called preservation of youth, anyway and that isn't a healthy way to interpret a life cycle. Everyone gets old. Everyone dies. It is our biggest vulnerability to our power as individuals and as a species.

The world sort of felt like it hit some kind of a new low in 2011 but at the same time, I think many people are waking up to the truth that they didn't even know existed. The truth is the power of community.
This whole online life that people are living is allowing them to speak to one another and learn from one another, in a way that is unprecedented in our existence. A true cyber, multicultural society that has formed on the web and it has happened exponentially.
This is why governments and corporations want to get control of it. They won't tell us where the nuclear fucking weapons are but they want the power to record me while I go about my life online.
People like Julian Assange are demonised and held in prison, without charge, for 400 days now, while mass murderers like Donald Rumsfeld get a fucking medal.
There I go off on a tangent again.
The US government just signed the NDAA into law, which essentially destroys their entire due process, which, last time I checked, was the basis for much of their law. I mean, Habeus Corpus was basically dissolved a few years back, why not take away due process?
Meanwhile, we Canadians were rewarded with a Harper majority government, which has already started 'quietly' promoting their agenda. I guess many Canadians wanted this but it seems downright anti-Candian to me. Harper is a bit scary. I think he's an asshole.
And, of course we had the rise of the NDP, but we all know that won't last now that Jack Layton has left us.

Now we enter this new year with renewed hopes and dreams. I can tell you that I do not. Call me a fatalist, but I am not holding out much hope for the immediate future. I mean, I am sure the entertainment and the food will be good, I am a bit worried about the outcome of the ball game, that is all.
We can pretend to care and try to listen to what the fuck is going on because it is all so convoluted, it seems like we are living out our existence in a haze of misinformation and a fog that has cast a pall on the land.
The pall smells like money and it tastes like shit.

We have all taken a ride in our time but this place we're in right now is uncharted. Sir Francis Drake style. It's all downhill from here.
There are a lot of pick-up trucks and classic rock radio stations to pass the time. I don't need a library card anymore. I used to spend a lot of time there but these days the aisles of learning have migrated to my laptop or my smartphone. I don't need to fill out borrowing cards anymore. Besides, the intelligence services are monitoring all that shit anyway. It is a brave new world and I was born to flip it the bird.
I may not fit in or make it much further than that, but at least I know I didn't go down in a hail of lattes and flesh coloured shoes and slacks. If I do, it had better be with an android on my arm, for good measure. Or at least some escaped animals that I had just freed...
Some ferrets or chinchillas or some shit...

I would love to be an animal activist, spraying red paint in people's faces, assaulting them with a microphone or their own words played back to them at the speed of sound.

The republican primaries have taken off like a monkey in a rocket in the states. Once again, I am astounded at the general ignorance and stupidity of the American public. (not that our public is much better)
When the choice is between a Mormon, cut throat CEO, millionaire , a homophobic, stuttering fool, a fascist, evil, racist cunt and a washed-up, Bush-One era Christian fundamentalist, I cannot even believe we all share the same pocket of oxygen and manage to get up in the morning and make it to our jobs or our own funerals, depending on the day of the week...

The media has found an all time low from which to operate their pathetic theatre of pain. They seem to have become a caricature of themselves, feeding off the scraps doled out to them by their masters' servant.
The prime time is all the time and when TMZ doesn't care, neither do I.
The old man from Melbourne found himself in hot water this year with his Globe media or whatever he calls his England arm.
Connie Black got outta jail and wrote a book on survival. It was on the NYT best seller list, last I heard. of course it is, all those fucking right wing, Bay st, Wall st wannabes wanna be just like him.
How do I eat the child of my children's children? It is the Jetsons, the way of the future, this is the way I wanted it, expected it, though I am a little sad at the lack of a jet pack.

Cartoons have come out on top because nobody can be blamed for what is said. On at six, they replace the news and who wants it anyway, they just tell you about what they are taking away.

I have tried for years to get away from politics and I am barely succeeding. It is an inner battle I constantly have with myself, to stay on track with politics in the world or to run and hide. One has to hide a certain amount or you will end up gunning down a crowd of people.
It is healthy to hide out a bit because our modern and frenetic environment demands that people take time away from it once in a while. This can be done in many forms but those that do not seek time by themselves shall reap what they sew, in that they will find no peace.
We were designed to be social as well as solo creatures, reflecting our pack and hunting mentalities, respectively.

Having been involved in previous movements quite actively, I feel the pull of #occupy, anti this-or-that, pro- democracy, etc...
We were at Seattle in 1999, Quebec City in 2001, Calgary in 2003 and I was a loud voice in the bullshit lead up to the invasion of Iraq. Millions marched in the streets and they looked us all in the eye and told us to go fuck ourselves.
I cannot believe we live in a world where Gandhi and Martin Luther King and John Lennon are all gunned down and Bush and Cheney et al, will die peacefully in their beds, at the ripe old age of 90. We can only hope and pray for the truth of the religion which they claim to believe in. If it is true, they will all burn in eternal hell fire. Here's to hoping...

Are there even any movements anymore? Do people even care anymore, or is it only the bleeding heart, faggot, lefty, commie, greenie, pinko, socialist fucking hippies that give a shit? I think it has become lame to care. Only assholes with an 'agenda' care about things, right?

Send another rocket ship to the fucking moon!
Send another warship to the Persian Gulf!
Send another 5,000 kids to an early, fiery grave, with benefits of course...

Chevrolet, imported from Detroit.
Televised, improvised leadership
Sound bites and tripe
Is the words du jour
We took a detour
Hiding under the bed
Behind the skirt
To be a better man
To you
To myself
And not to them
For certain
This is all the stuff of dissent
The last thought that courses through us
Before we have finally had enough of this shit
And tear into the streets armed with non-sequiturs
And glasses of gasoline and the desperation of a drowning dog
The bog of truth stops us in our tracks and sinks us below the surface
Until we learn to keep ourselves afloat by kicking our feet
There is nothing you can say to convey the urgency
The severity of the salvation you seek
But that old blindness creeps in again
Leaving you too tired to swim
You curl up with wine
You are doing fine
By yourself

Alone with every other human being on this 3rd rock. And when you figure that out, it gives you great insight into the silliness that is us. Us, as in Humans...

Listen, I am not trying to get all crazy and Charlie Sheen about this, but there is some shit going on there in our world that really demands our attention. You cannot keep hoping and praying for Humanity to change it's ways. We are controlled by our own greed and we need to be stopped, or at least, slowed down until we get the proper intellectual tools to be able to deal with the extremely complex environment we have allowed our world to become.
I mean, really, am I the only guy that lays awake at night, worrying about the coming midnight on the doomsday clock?

Now, listen, I am going to switch gears here. I am starting to sound like a negative asshole. I always say I am a realist, not a pessimist. It's true. I think I am actually a pretty optimistic dude. I mean, the last time I moved, I even got a permanent address change with the post office. That is kind of a big deal for a guy like me, a guy who has moved 31 times in my 38 years. And that isn't including the extended periods I spent in camps, on boats, or in other countries. That is only the times I physically moved my worldly possessions from one location to another.
It has given me a bit of a Gypsy outlook on life and materialism. Our culture is based on excess and ownership of the world's resources. They will look at our time, deep in the future and they will despise us and question our sanity, in regards to us destroying our finite gifts...

The latest cool thing in North America is how to get a pipeline to the ocean, so we can pump the world's dirtiest, stupidest, most ridiculously diabolical idea to come along in a while. And here we are drinking the arrogance in like a fucking Slurpee on a hot summer's day. We are like the dumbest, most gullible kid in school. Give me movie stars and heated cars and you can have the rest. These jeans make me feel like a million dollar whore.
Them cowboy boots don't fit me no more!
250 tankers a day, they'll get it anyway. If you don't give it, they will take it, ask Iraq or Libya or Dubya, they knows the way it goes.
In this town.
It takes a czar or a football star to go far
These days
In the haze of anti-intellect
We all belong to a sect
What the heck?
Are we all on the deck in a rockin' chair again?
Old Stevie Millions hides his schillings
under the red rug
The trail always leads to somewhere
If you look

We are all starting to smell the fear and it is our nature to go for the throat. And, even if it weren't it would have been taught to us by our masters.

Happy 2012, my friends. I hope we are nicer this year. To ourselves. To each other. To the Earth. To Animals.