Monday, February 26, 2007

Bubby: A Thought For Today

This past weekend I had the pleasure of sitting down with my grandmother. My Bubby: quick witted, strong willed, right about 95 years young, she's my favourite lady in all of the world that I've seen thus far. I bet that despite whatever travels I may yet have, she will remain as such.

Proud and honest, uncompromising but always improvising, she is a pillar in my life, a role model, and my soul food. Even if she wasn't prophetic, spiritual, sharp tongued and at peace, she would mean just as much to me, but of course, she is all these things, and days later I'm still glowing from my brief time with her.

I feel inspired, uplifted and renewed, and while I know that not everyone has a Bubby (for which I really am sorry), I hope that you can connect or reconnect with someone who brings you the same joy.

Go get 'em.

Tuesday, February 20, 2007

New Pics

Us



Danny a.k.a The Boyfriend
ummm...Me!


For more of Dan's fab pics, including some great shots of Europe, click the Danupix link to see her site.

Tuesday, February 13, 2007

You said I was destined
To plant flowers in anonymous fields
And write poetry in chalk on walls by streetlight.
While I have done neither
I have pasted my pages to mall bathroom stalls
In the hopes that some captured audience
Would be touched
And often
Upon seeing spots of spontaneous and unlikely beauty
My mind has wandered to you.

Monday, February 12, 2007

Burnt Dream

I dreamed of fire last night
Nothing all encompassing
Only my bedroom burned down
(A subtle reminder not to let visitors smoke in bed)
I ran headstrong into the smoke screen
In a frantic daze
Convinced as always that I
In my amazement and indignation
Am in fact more potent than mere flame
And my only preoccupations were to salvage some of my favourite pieces
-- Paper mostly, and that unfinished --
Along with a few necessary props and personas to see me through
Arms full of trash and trinkets
I ran into the street
Into the wide open dark
Naked and singed
And I woke up sweaty
Holding you

Sunday, February 04, 2007

Missed Call

I believe it was you
Who called just now.
Rang and rang my phone
But hung up on my answering machine
While I ran through the hall
Naked
My hair soaked and raining down
My skin exploding in goosebumps
To get to the phone
And standing bare and alone
All I got was the click of your goodbye.
So I ask that next time
You're looking to share
Some of your beautiful words
Please do leave a message if I don't get to the phone in time.
I could use the air.

No Room

There is no room here for the inaccuracies of language.
There is no space in the air between us
To grope for adjectives and flowers
Or rediscover the forgotten art of romantic metaphor
In this moment of clarity
Where we are
And can
Just be
There is no need to articulate
This ocean inside of me
And if poetry comes from struggle and sadness
Then I will lock my lips and dance wildly
Around your fire.

(2005)