This is me being whimsical. Fall is my favorite season.
This is Kaleido!
(In My Bard of the Avenue Costume)
Kaleido 2014 was a lot of fun, a colorful kaleidoscope of music, art and dance. It is wonderful to have a free family festival right here on Alberta Avenue. This is the poem that I wrote about Kaleido this year.
This is Kaleido!
Join me on a magical tour,
A kiss under the mistletoe and more
It’s the light in a child’s eyes, so bright
That it dims the fireworks in the night
This is Kaleido.
Fire dancers, stilt walkers arise
Big bugs crawl their way up buildings to the skies
The first bugs I’ve met who wave “good-bye”
This is Kaleido.
At Takwakin Village listen,
To the voices of the Elders,
See the twinkle in their eyes,
They hold the heartbeat of our beginnings
Their singing high and bright, or deep and low
This is Kaleido.
Watch for belly dancers, who shimmy
So shiny and bright
Their veils like the sails of a square rigger in flight.
Art creating wonderful
Challenging our view
Lanterns light the darkened night
Offering a clue.
Suspend your senses—
Imagine an origami horse,
Galloping down 118 Avenue, of course!
Let the music surround you
As you’re feeling the beat
Your senses are spinning and it comes out your feet.
We have a magician
Believe me, it’s true
He might have a trick up his sleeve;
Maybe two.
Breathe it in
Walk, remember.
For this great experiment of creating anew
Is made even greater with the presence of you.
Abundant Communities
This spring, Alberta Avenue started the Abundant Communities Initiative. Here is a poem which I wrote about that.
Abundant Communities
We’re taking this opportunity
To create an abundant community
Whether teacher, lawyer, lion tamer or such,
Abundant Communities will get you in touch.
Your choir, so dour,
With a single voice,
90th Street, Edmonton
Abundant Communities will give you a choice.
Want company for walking your brand new pup?
Abundant Communities—
We will hook you up.
Sewing or gardening, or yogaing or more
Abundant Communities will give you the score.
We’re a gift to each other
It’s really quite true
When we get together
On the Avenue.
Check out Abundant Communities in the April and May 2014 editions of The Rat Creek Press
http://www.ratcreek.org/uploads/3/0/5/2/3052544/rcp_vol16_iss04_april_2014.pdf
http://www.ratcreek.org/uploads/3/0/5/2/3052544/rcp_vol16_iss5_may_2014.pdf
Left Behind
On the day of the K-Days parade, I was walking by our local fire hall on Norwood Boulevard, and out front sat an old Edmonton Fire Department fire truck. It was getting a tune-up before being driven in the parade. As I stood watching, the fire alarm went off, and all the firemen and the trucks took off—except of course, the old fire engine. After seeing that happen I wrote this poem.
Left Behind
The siren blared and you were off
Carrying your firemen into the unknown.
A false alarm
Maybe Mother left the oven on too long
The toaster shorted out and caught fire
Father fell asleep smoking and live ashes danced on the mattress
Back yard leaves burning, smouldered, then blew into the neighbour’s yard
Kitten up a tree.
Each time you left the station you never knew
Would it be something sad or serious
Or silly and benign?
Now you are a museum piece
Good for parades
or for going around Commonwealth Stadium when The Eskimos get a touchdown
Children get to sit in your driver’s seat and dream of being firefighters
You are shiny and clean now
Sparkling red
No longer streaked with the sweat and smoke of the life you were created for
Today’s sirens fade and only you are left behind.
The Gift
Homeless men gather in a small knot by the Sprucewood library
Sharing cigarettes and some baked goods from a clear, plastic container
It is an iconic scene.
The group breaks up slowly
Hesitant and with resignation
Leaving cigarettes embedded in the cracks in the sidewalk.
The last one to leave, stoops down
and puts a clear, plastic container on the ground, in a bed of weeds
filling it with water from his bottle
” It’s for the birds” he says.
Days later, I walk by and see a sparrow
Alone
Drinking this small gift of kindness.
Shakespeare versus Textsphere
In April, I had the pleasure of seeing Romeo and Juliet at the Citadel Theatre. The iconic love story of two teenage star-crossed lovers made me curious to mix Shakespearian language with what I imagined today’s texting teens might create. This is what I came up with.
Romeo: 
Juliet:
“O Romeo, Romeo. Wherefore art thou Romeo?”
Romeo: WYWH
“If I profane with my unworthy hand this holy shrine
The gentle sin is this:
My lips two blushing pilgrims, ready stand
To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.”
Juliet: I 
U
“And all my fortunes at thy foot I’ll lay
And follow thee my lord throughout the world.”
Romeo: 4EAE
“Call me but love,
And I’ll be new baptis’d.”
I U2
Juliet: SWAK 
“Good night, good night!
Parting is such sweet sorrow.
That I shall say good night till it be morrow.”
Romeo: TTYL
HAK
Juliet: XOXO
- All quotes were written by William Shakespeare
- WYWH wish you were here
- 4EAE forever and ever
- SWAK sealed with a kiss
- TTYL talk to you later
- HAK hugs and kisses.
Thread unravelling
I noticed a thread unravelling on my old, wool sweater
It seemed harmless at the time
That one thread unravelling.
It caught on a nail on the garden shed,
And I watched most of my right sleeve unravel
I couldn’t fix it.
It seemed harmless at the time—
That one thread unravelling
Later on, it turned out not to be so.
Young Man Watching
I watch you watching the sun rise
With your face turned upward, expectant, excited.
The City reveals itself slowly
Gradually becoming visible after a long night’s sleep
Glittering and shiny
Red gold
Your face too shines in the reflection.
When you see me watching
You smile sheepishly
As if I have caught you doing something wrong
This staring in awe at a new day
You sit on the window sill
So golden, so still
Like some forgotten icon.
.
Falling Into Life;… Without Warning
I am in my neighbourhood grocery store, and
I go to the line with my regular check-out clerk.
Today she looks drawn, thinner
We chat about the usual old stuff
The weather
“Will it ever warm up?”
Or conversely,
“Will it ever stop snowing?”
The price of gas
“Outrageous”
My face asks a question
“It’s my husband, he’s ill,” she says.
The words tumble out now,
fast and furious- worries and concerns about him- and then stop.
“Would you like carry-out with that?” she asks
Would I like carry-out?
I would like carry-out!
Carry out her husband’s illness and her pain and fear
That’s what I would like to see carried out!
Instead I say,
“No, no carry out, thank-you,”
“No carry out.”
Video JoJo
In the August 2013 edition of the Rat Creek Press, I wrote a poem entitled Don’t send a poet to do a dog’s work, which was about our dog JoJo. Several weeks ago, we found out that he had cancer and he died. He was a wonderful spirit and a good friend to our family. Thanks, buddy.
Video JoJo
I sit in the vet’s office, in a straight-backed chair,
not moving,
as I watch the shadows miming stories behind the window blinds
I find myself projecting your life onto that shadowland.
You are a puppy
Your big paws and big ears- too large for your small body.
I remember you running in between the pine trees,
following the fence-line of our acreage
you moved in and out of the whispering shade,
the trees’ lower limbs, patting your back gently as you leapt with abandon,
diving under the pines and back into the light.
Outside this room, the outlined limbs of a tree scratches at the window,
the black silhouette beckoning.
I hear the doctor’s verdict in a far-off voice, you are dying,
like a skipped stone-never reaching the other side of the lake.
When I send my friend, Mary, a video of you
I type ” Video JoJo ” in the subject line.
We buried you there in the trees
on a day filled with light.
Picking up your beloved squeaky cow toy,
I still think that it is the worst excuse for a squeaky that I have ever heard!
I place it on top of your grave
the squeaking moan breaking the silence
making its way to my heart.
