Morning Enchantment

I climbed out of bed,
Acknowledged the tail wagging dog
On the way to the toilet
Where I sat and read a "morning reflection",
Reminding myself that all humans
Are Gods that shit.

I again acknowledged the tail wagging dog,
As I departed the bathroom
And entered the kitchen.
Created the miracle of the blue gas stove flame,
Then opened the enchanting freezer door
Taking out the wondrous coffee container.
I scooped just enough deep brown coffee grounds
To make the Expresso maker very happy indeed.

I saw that the dog climbed back on the bed, curled up,
For a nap, after the hard work of morning greetings.
I sat at the table looking at this computer screen
Reading mail from the internet,
Smiling at the inspirational quotes from Facebook friends,
Waiting for the characteristic morning coffee music to begin.
Listening as the symphony symphony crescendoed
Then gurlgled to a rich conclusion.

I rose on cue and turned off the stove,
Lifted the expresso pot and poured the aromatic creation
Into my orange Harley Davidson mug.

I then drank the "said" coffee.

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

My morning has begun.

Sensuous spirituality incarnate.

Afraid (poem)

I am tough and strong
I am David before Goliath
I am the Rock of Gibralter
 I am the steel that is true
 I have fought for righteousness
Defended the truth
Given my health and wealth
For all the right causes
I have carried my burden
And carried yours
And been carried by the Lord
And known grace

But still I am afraid
When you threaten me
 With armies of lawyers
And legions of bureaucrats
And threaten to take years
Of my valuable time
I once thought would be mine
After years of service

There is no real reward in this world
I have known the various distractions
The brief R&R that is given to men
So they will forget for a moment
And return to the battlefield
Where others profit from the service

There are many battlefields
And many wars
 But always there is death, old age, and taxes
And yes I am afraid

Please God give me strength to carry on
And face yet again your enemies and mine
For the darkness is all around
Only you and yours are the light
Help me be more and more with you
In you and surrounded by you
Thank you, Jesus.

Eternity poem

There is a lot to be spoken of
In the soft explorations
Of fingers and tongue
Lying here
Together Moulded
Reaching for something finer
In the depths
Where our privacies unite
And for the briefest moment
Our loneliness is met
Beyond politeness
Vulgar with sweat
Human and divine
Arching geometrically
Parabolic and banal
Grunts and syllables
Sweet tears
And last caresses
Before the sounds
Of deeper and deeper sleep
Are forgotten
In erotic dreams
Of this moment
Over and over
Again and again
Ecstasy colliding in eternity.

Blogging

I used to encourage people to journal
But then thought how sad it was that all this thought
Went into boxes no one read
Like the many boxes I have in the shed

So now I tell people to share a blog
Not to worry what critics say
But write a blog everyday
And be surprised when people say

I liked what you wrote, yesterday.

Sunday

Sunday is everything
Completion of a week, beginning of a new one
A time to sleep in
A time to go to church
(A last minute to sin before confession)
A moment to reflect on healing, the present
God, the Big Picture, life and death
The alpha and omega
The time between
Purpose, meaning, spirituality, direction

I pray and meditate
I work and do the next right thing
I play and participate
Love to read and write
I watch tv, listen to the news
Go outside as much as possible
Walk the dog
Throw the ball
Stay in touch with family
Hang out with friends
Carry through with projects
Building things
Learning things
Travel, hunt, fish
Am fascinated by the means of travel
As much as the destination
Am with people alot
Helping whenever and whereever I can
I pay taxes
Some days it's enough
Really, enough
But often I'm alone
And wondering sometimes still
If I'm really doing God's will
Or marking time
Waiting for the Messiah to come





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Roses are Red

Roses are Red
Violets are blue
Because I've a dog
I scoop up poo


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love in darkness

we don't ask of love in darkness
the children are long away and asleep
only adults are here about
the noises are distinctive
gutteral, animal, and joyful
there is a space there
in community
for respect and mutual agreement
despite the voyeurs and perverts
who would point fingers
and shine lights
ignoring bombs where children run
it's one or the other really
silence and discretion
here in the coupling of creatures
away tongue waggers
and fat cows
little men
and apathetic creatures
who are titillated
easily by death in the marketplace
whereas I would die with you
again and again and again
in ecstacy and self forgetting.



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Yesterday Poem

I had no wi fi
Travelling in my truck
Pulling my trailer
My loyal dog beside me
His name, not Charlie, but Gilbert.
We stopped often
This hauling about of one's home
A greater strain than riding one's motorcycle
I appreciate now the methodic movement of the turtle
Compared to the frantic effervescence of the hare.
Gilbert was pleased to pee on as many trees as he could
I think he has a daily quota
And rewards himself with happy faces for more
He's very much a twitter tweeter
To my blogging.
So a poem did not go out for napowrmo
Daily as the national poetry month deserves
The poem was written in my head and heart
But it's only today that the wifi at this campsite
Gives me the sense that I'm again connected to the web
I was off the grid there for a day
No doubt the satellites could see me
And the traffic cameras could detect my vehicle
With the distinctive cockapoo dog head sticking out the side window
But the cellphone signal was lost
And much of the way I didn't even have radio
So I listened to a talking book of Graham Greene
About the time when the Communists were lining up the priests
And shooting them as the Romans crucified the Christians.
The scenery was magnificent, the Silmakeen River rushing along
But snow deep still in the forest concerned me
I didn't imagine stopping till I was over the mountains
Away from winter and back into spring.
It's been a mild winter but still I'm weary of leaving yellow marks in the snow
Gilbert marked the crocuses and daffodils as though they were trees
He's so very off the grid.

Recovery

Recovery is a wondrous moment
When lost in past and future
We once again become present

Wounded healers, servant kings
Our imperfection our humanity
We walk again in the garden
Naming things with God

Interpersonal, relational
Atonement and personhood
We find the outside looking in
No longer trapped inside looking out

Spirituality at peace
No more at war with ourselves
With serenity, moving forward
With gratitude, celebrating life





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Another YouTube Suicide

Another YouTube Suicide:
Social Terrorism broadcast to millions.
Epidemic copy cat mania.
Insaniety at it's finest:
The epitomy of decadence.
"It's a cry for help", the industry claims
Offering more cosmetic psychiatry
As a solution to the new narcissism.
She was sad not angry,
And the tragedy persists
Addictions are ignored as 'feeling'
Emotionalism replacing rationalism
As the cure for a growing lack of spirituality
And the stupidity of Sex in the City, American Idol,
The Kardasians the new Jerry Springer
What our culture must look like to aliens
No wonder the Moslems jihad in self defence.
The hope though is in the creativity of the gamers,
The genius of the networkers,
The brilliance of the young scientists, musicians, artists,
Who build and create with enthusiasm
As the poverty of the world shrinks
And diseases disappear
We celebrate life
In the midst of individual despair.
As more choose Galileo and Gandhi
Over Sylvia Path and Cobain
There is hope and faith in this wonder
Where Youtube captures many more births
But the mainstream media
Of fearful dying baby boomers
Acts out its own godless angst
Through the celebration of the sacrifice of youth
The old kill with you tube
Unwilling to wait till North Korea
High on it's own "Korean idol"
Gives us another Gallipoli
Mass sacrifices of young
For the titillation of the decadent old
No longer sustained by their snuff films
Of pig farmer porn.
Thank god for channel changes, facebook, and internet
Where we can all switch from drama queens without talent
Drug crazed or simply stupid and sex crazed
Claiming shame that everyone is looking at them
When there is no audience large enough
To give them the the joys of return to the umbilical cord.
We're long past the tit seeking child
In a world that no longer gives expulsion from Eden myths
To guide the young to kill the snakes
And make their way wearily back to the Garden.
Where is Joni Mitchell now that we need her
Woodstock a fading memory.
And all I can say is if you are sitting
In front of the latest boob tube
Peacemissile named you tube
Experience the 'me tube' desire to off yourself
Maybe it's time you really did go outside and play
Hug a human, care for a child, pet a dog, bother a cat,
Water a plant.
Suicide is the ultimately most selfish act
Comparable to homicide
Though perhaps of lower self esteem
More tragicomedy than tragedy these days
Of absurdist sensationalism and mass insaniety.
Where all around spring is being celebrated by bird songs
And flowers blossoming
And activists chant silent spring today
Millenial madness, the skies falling, there is no future
And the young are afraid and angry.
Such that only laughter can explain
As monks the world over have laughed
Before the dark night of the soul
And with every aid against madness
They can find from prozac to brain surgery
To lucky rabbit foots, mother's love, talking circles
And a cypress cross
They carry on
Trudging up the hill
Which Joan Baez long ago said
Had only standing room on it
But we could not see each other clearly
Because the man at the top had a superior
Shit making machine
But we keep on trekking
We keep on trucking
We keep on trudging
And don't take ourselves so seriously
That we actually think we're Christ.
Get down off the cross, we can use the wood!
The Phoenix isn't some chick but a metaphorical bird
Be an angel but not a smeagol
Laugh, dance, whatever,
But this too will pass.
Hang in there for the commercials to end
And the movie to continue
It always does.
Even the self centered dying baby boomers
Know in their heart of hearts that death is just a passing
Their lives, as silly and important as they seem to them,
Are just a beginning.
There is no end
And I will meet you youtube fanatics
In another world where asylums for the soul
Have music of love playing 24 hours
And lust isn't love
And sex isn't all the dirty old men and women
Of the media make it out to be
Now lets get back to sharing pictures
Of our animals and babies and travels
And our poems and pictures of the rocket ships
Our children made
Trips to Mars and meeting with alien worlds
And dancing on asteroid belts
Swimming with dolphins
Building a church
And talking to an old person or a young person
On a park bench
Painting a picture of a bowl of fruit
Living rather than dying
In this great conspiracy of life
Where 9-11 and the planet earth
As less important than
One small sparrow and a universe or multiverse
Swinging on a wee string.
The umbilical cord of the soul.





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Location:Gaglardi Way,Burnaby,Canada

Morning

The dog cuddled up to me
So I noticed the friendly sun was shining in on us both.

I had awoken to love.

My dog and I walked the path by the river.
The sound of the stream was pleasant to the ears.
I breathed deeply of the forest.
He was running a hundreds steps to my one.
It's always this way.
Off the leash he's a wild thing.

Now he lies at my feet as I drink hot tasty coffee.

I'll shower.
Together we'll drive to work.
A good start to a day.


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Bird Songs

The bird songs this spring morning
Are exuberant with certainty of summer.
They were tentative through winter.
Only the raucous crow insensitive
To the cold.
Robins, red breasted, appear along
The path the dog and I walk.

These song birds are the last of the dinosaurs
Such perfection of grace.
Evolutionaries explain this with asteroids
Like astrologists before them.
Always looking to the outer limits
When the answers lie within.





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