Poetry……I’m

Cathead Bay Michigan

I’m

I’m a Galleria Mall in a National Park,

a French film noir in a grocery store,

art school in the kitchen,

An erotica book on a Wednesday noon,

And a heated debate at 2 a.m.

I’m the cookie baker

trouble maker

heart breaker

claim staker-

I want everything to change

While the good parts stay the same.

I want the freedom of the road

while harvesting the flowers I’ve sowed.

I want a home that feels like love

and all the laughter it’s made of-

I want a soundtrack worth a movie

And then I want to leave behind

A mountain of creations

For my progeny to find.

That’s all.

Poetry Day- America: The Long Dream

 

usa night

So, this poem arrived in a dream, intact, and I grabbed a piece of paper and wrote it down, just like this. There’s music too, but since I can’t write music, its just in my head. I wrote this in 1998 but I think about it every 9/11.

America: The Long Dream

America,

as we awaken from this long dream

we look around to see what’s happening

and wipe the sleep out of our weary eyes.

 

Long ago,

we came from every nation on the earth

our skin is shaded like the mother lands

our eyes reflect the places of our birth.

 

We’ve lived for years a nation under God

but never dared to say which one that was

now deep from sleep a restless voice is heard.

 

Until we see,

we came together here to start anew

and find the likenesses in me and you

we’ll never reach the point where love is true.

 

The purpose of our lives has always been

to learn to love regardless of our skin

 

The God we call out to is all the same.

The only difference is the man made name.

We bow our heads and ask

direction for

our lives again.

 

And in the middle of the darkest night

we hear the whispered voice and see the light

that fills our hearts and somehow makes it right.

 

This is the dawning of a brand new day.

Our turmoil leads us to another way-

to handle change with grace.

 

America,

as we awaken from this long dream

and look around to see what’s happeneing

we see the truth within our open eyes.

We’re standing truly at each other’s side.

Our learning hearts are finally open wide

to let the new day in.

Buying dirty books

Drinking Tips for Teens

The last thing you expect when you go to Old Orchard Beach in Maine on the long Labour Day weekend is to keep your sanity. The second-last thing you expect, among the tourists, souvenir shops, fried-everything stands and carnival rides, is a book store. But there it is, right on the strip. Granted, it’s full of remaindered books, and you have to dodge the caricaturist parked at the entrance, but it’s a little bit of paradise among the bikinis. Incidentally, if you’re looking for something called Paradise Among the Bikinis, you’re in the wrong kind of store.

But I did find a dirty book. Tucked into the row of fiction was a book by one of my favourite authors, Nicholson Baker. His novel, The Mezzanine, is particularly good. It’s set entirely during a ride up an escalator. Baker writes a type of fiction in which not much physical action…

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