Welcome to my poetry website. The poems you will read here are “light” in the sense of being understandable, not in the sense of being funny or silly, although some humorous poems will be included from time to time. Please sign my guestbook to let me know if you like them.

READ A POEM

THE POLITICAL STRAIN

To our cold Canadian capital
The Freedom Convoy carried
Protest, patriotism
A warning to dictators
They also brought rot
But there is some in every load
And something, too
Had been rotten in Ottawa
Crowds gathered

Government, “so called”
Used slander and the phrase:
“We need all our tools”
As they tossed out the jewel
The Erin O’Toole, who urged
“Lowering the temperature”
With a leader’s good will
An image misplaced
On that frigid Hill

So came noise and diesel
To the downtown core
Hot tubs and warm smiles
What lay in store?
Flat out refusals
To tow the damn trucks
But the press toed the line
Those Muckety-Mucks
Their stories stuck

Tanks but no thanks
Frozen funds, disapproval
A siege of prospects
And yet a removal
Of sanctions, isolation
A lifting of loneliness –
The public offended
After a long haul
The worst strain was ended

BONE TO PICK

the forks and knives are
polished, set, positioned
and aligned, just right
beside the bone white
plates

waiting for the guests,
polished and positioned,
who arrive on time
perfectly aligned
their bones

having assumed
man’s intended form,
they gather to eat
chosen cuts of meat,
cow, lamb, pig

scraping reflections
off bone white plates
with forks and knives,
delicious lives,
these bones

best grown bones,
they grew just right,
with glowing skin to wrap
them tight, skeletons,
so polite

there is laughter
and the clinking of glasses
a perfect confluence of
chance and circumstance
celebrity bones

gold dust, bone lust
idol bones,
bones to bow to
bow wow! bow now!
dog found his bone

the essence of life
is not brick or stone
hip ankle knee
do not worship
bone

OUT

Left Out
We all remember it.
Wide-eyed we stared
at the other playing children,
our faces begging to join in.

Singled Out.
We all remember it.
A bug-eyed teacher venting
at you, and only you,
her red-faced victim

Out Cold
That’s what they said
Just before I died
I was middle-aged
And then it happened

Singled Out.
randomly and unfairly
selected
for eternal
exclusion

Left Out
of grand events
and small events
not even knowing
my descendants

In Death I Stared Out
Wide-eyed and vacant
with the bottomless longing
of a corpse, pleading
to join in