e-Thrust and iParry

A series of monologues
      from behind caged safety
Strike
      through streaming broadband
Pointed and deadly
      score hits
Withdraw
      devoid of clarity
Exercise dominance
      impale relationship

The Home Office

One label maker
    expensive refills
Pen holders, two
    one a Tupperware cup
Manilla folders (three tabs)
    almost depleted
Four-drawer filing cabinet
    newly acquired, full

Five file boxes
    stuffed and stacked
Six-Drawer Wheeled Organizer
    no wheels
Seven CD organizers
    labeled neatly
One shoebox with CDs
    unlabeled

Book on side table
    Organizing for Dummies

Mountain Biking

The impatient fingers of fall tap the trailer
disappointed droplets want to be snow
but divert into rivulets over summer
worn dust layers

Impatient fingers of son tap the table
anxious to test large limbs on small mountains
traverse rocky switchbacks
attain single-track supremacy

Heart in my throat, I pant along
trail behind, watch his back,
peddle madly, climb for hours, plant my face
in soft dirt, bike askew

Clouds collude with autumn chill
mountains partner to block cellphone signals
alarmed, I pray search parties
will find my sanity, tap an SOS

Board Meeting

I want to publish minutes
about you. a real writer
manuscript in hand
read aloud to my tears

You try not to sleep
as we journey home
converse about nerves
and a long overdue obedience

your gentle snore assures
no pretense is necessary
I drive more awake
comforted by your repose

relaxed in the construction
of friendship that keeps the faith
navigates the detours
breathes the paving of peace

Treasure

breathless words from ancient sonnets
capture Eden’s liquid jewels
drop sweet nectar light on the tongue

sweet vanilla mountain melts
over warm apple crumble
golden crisp leaves brush past

on the last whisper of summer’s breath
evening light caresses sheltering trees
waves a satisfied goodbye to the day

familiar embrace a final wrap
around cascading conversation
spilling like grain from gathering wagons
to say goodnight in the dusk

laughter sparkles in the darkness and scatters
skipping light stars into every crevice
of an upturned face, every corner
of an upturned heart

content in the echo to gaze
like a child in mother’s arms
reach upward to adoring face
touch eternity in the familiar

Believe

I would die a thousand deaths
at my own hand to know you love me
but cannot deny myself long

enough to say I love you

I would write a thousands poems
by my own hand to declare devotion
but cannot pick up your word long

enough to read love

etched in stone
written in blood
hammered in wood

traced in dust by your finger
as you point away condemnation
resurrect the body of work

you planned just for me

and I die
in your arms
live
in your plan
trace your fingerprint
on my heart

Out of Province Inspection

Here's a silly little bit I wrote while waiting for the last piece of the government puzzle to be completed before I can register our new vehicle in Alberta:



I thought performance sports
cars were icons raised
by big boys who like fast toys.
Until I bought one.

I clutch the keys tight
stomach churns as I approach
ask informed questions of the man
in overalls with wise eyes.

Smiling, he overlooks The Car
and my nerves, assures me with a list of other
high end cars he knows and in the end
I hand the keys, pay the fee.

Shiny red performance
road hugger, limit tester now
reigns in Bay 1, crowned by
the ahs of all

The air compressor whines,
turns lugnuts on polished steel
Exhaust chokes like bad wine
from the next bay

Curse the government, anyone
can see this coiled cat purring
with me in its lap
is no threat to public safety.

Do I wait? Do I go? Do I stay,
watch the undressing
of the new ride that rumbles
in my head while I sleep?

I grab a coffee and a Tums.
Write this poem while I wait.
The phone says the asphalt queen is ready
Stamp the form already.

Let me drive.

Late Day

While flying through Denver, area storms delayed our flight. During the long taxi to takeoff I watched an astounding sunset. I didn't have my camera, however, I had my notebook and this was the result that spilled out as we took off.

Late Day

Clouds applaud collision
of day and night, stretch arms east
to rain droplets flung

from furious fingers
over plain wheat
squares and emerald rings

neatly lined. The hand quilt spreads
beyond pink-feathered horizon, drinks
the Merlot thread of dusk

Ragged-top mountains
rip away sky, rise
under a chorus of light

silhouette strength
pass the peace
to my tumbled heart

full of praise and misty-eyed blessing
after running the rocky valley
playing tag with my Creator

I laugh and gasp
piercing air fills my lung-ache,
sets my tongue on thanks.

One Hour Flight

We’re often together
you and I busy going
somewhere
you with friends or the ipod
and I alone
the chauffeur

Now stalled on the tarmac you offer
one earbud to share
a ski movie with
your head on my shoulder
neck in a position
it will regret tomorrow

and I regret nothing
how could I have known
when we hit the ground running
that lightning delayed so many flights
struck so many schedules,
shredded plans for our long weekend

Movie over   you dream   breathe soft
warm head on my shoulder
held firm in place by my cheek
ear against the pulse
of lifeblood echoed
in your own

after a six hour wait covered
in the soot of closed spaces, closer faces
one look in your feisty eyes
fragile at fifteen
I would not trade this
for the flight of the Concorde

morning worship

trees

weep tears
of joy snow-born
under sun / window
purrs pleasure / opens
to warm breeze / bare
branches bounce at
bird ruckus while
earth wakes
breathes
births
S
p

r

i

n

g

in him we live and move and have our being

Spring at 50

I drove alone to the clinic.
Heavy traffic.
Heavier cloud cover.
The wind chill minus 17C
well below average highs.

No average April,
This.
After seven perfect months
of waiting
Alone I sit in the waiting room
Cheap coffee tables hold magazines
with cancer cures and airbrushed girls
The reception counter mercifully high
I don’t have to avert my eyes

No average doctor,
Here. Mid-morning at the specialist
and no waiting
I’ve been here before
at six weeks gestation
That turned out well if you don’t
count the ways he contradicts
me at every turn
my lone child.

Cold
in winter’s pale I undress
from the waist down
and wonder
alone
if he also meant socks

I study
while I wait, the Feminine
Reproductive System
He enters
alone says that’s how it’s supposed to look

At his questions
I chant rehearsed history
family conditions
who’s had What and the Associated Risk

Not your average ovary
This
Left one
Fully involved fibrous
mass

Needs to come out
to make sure
it’s benign

Nurse should have kept quiet
as she booked it mechanically
recites
24 hour stay
general anesthetic
Must be big if he wants it this quick.

I drive away
run
unnecessary errands
report to Brent mechanically
discuss convenient date.

At home
I sit with the dog
curl under comforting fleece
drink wine
eat chocolate and tears
alone.

View by Request

Light on the bough tip
at the spruce top
starling rock me to rest in my nest

Alain Caron and Jazz Café
provide dancing music
for ears worn of winter’s howl

sweet cool breeze
smoothe away thought
of wintertaut skin

moist clouds
wash mountain tops and eyes
with glad tears for April sun

liquid lips kiss
away thoughts
of too-long nights

and wafting warmth from fresh earth
still my face
to taste the tannins of Easter peace.

Shaking Hands with Death

I don’t need
to shake your hand
We’re already
well acquainted

I banged on the nursery glass for three days
while you tortured little niece
Not content with torn hearts in January
you Marched on Jack

I broke my nails grabbing for you –
too late you slipped past the tree
where his car and my fingers
felt your splinters

My pregnant fist in your face
with the baby’s six week crisis
You skulked away then
but haunt every day he lives

I released
with relief
when Ali fell down
to heaven

I tried to push you away
as I guarded mother
and you said
“Don’t touch me.”

With Dad I slapped you
and he slipped
right through
my fingers to yours

In every night you taunt me
I fall, I search, I grieve
for all you have taken
loved ones, beloved dreams

Yes, I’ve touched you often
You’ve lived with me
As I finger the tear-catching hole
Where my heart used to be.

Chasing Scars

There’s a habit I don’t want to break
A longing that’s never fulfilled
The promise I won’t have to make
Expectation I haven’t yet willed

Release all bands and all boundaries
Surrender to the greatest need
Awaken the fire of Your foundries
To sear the wounds that still bleed.

Daily Cross

I’d like to have a proper burial
For all the things I’ve left undone
Words unsaid, love unspoken
Times I walk instead of run

I want praise so oft I dangle
Gracious acts of kindness wrought
To be viewed from every angle
By the ones whose praise I’ve sought

Yet my heart in grief unmeasured
Knows the vacant stare of pain
I would die to know Your pleasure
Help me find Your heart again.

Lay me down beside these treasures
Take my life and let it be
One that fully always ever
Gives and lives and loves like Thee.

You Drag Me

through the rose garden
kicking and screaming I inhale
the sweetness of your glory

I criticize your colour choice
You catch my stumble
over thorns and thrown rocks

I'm so busy falling
into the bush I don't see it
Burning

Essense

Inhale captured sun
from combed cotton on bare skin

Whispers of melted vanilla
in the black currant curve of chest

Collapse in the caress
of caramel cream cheeks

Drink blueberry eyes
and lemonmint lips

Deeply inhale where you cannot eat
this is the memory of love.

Kyrie

Grief
deeper than soul can bear
     
Loss overwhelms
crushes beauty
robs peace

Tears are no balm
.....I harden to cracked clay
.....fallow land

No Selah
.....in silent sadness
thinking stops

It is

too much
too intense
too present

Today's grief
.....yesterday's failure
.....a year's indulgence

Out of my hands
.....I release it

Lord have mercy

to castle

earth’s breath rises
...exhales the night in whispered
...wisps across the valley
knife-edged mountains slice
...through bluebell skies
white crystals dance
...sweep the tips
...in wind-whipped chorus
wild whirling euphoria
...swoops and swirls
...feathers fresh frost

across my path

chains of trains
...lifeblood linking
...voices of our nation
coast to coast
...bedraggled boxcars
...plod slowly
scarred by rust and rain
...graffiti art oil grain
racket along
...parallel trails
...through unyeilding mountains

we are one

you are the beginning of breath
and the ending of sighs

in the least conscious part
your life births mine

you my soil of origin
the rib from which I spring

i make the ascent to zenith
enfolded in your gaze

our joined hearts
my foundation, security, anchor

you lighten my work
arrest my senses

explore my territory
expand my boundaries

you are my balance,
my fulfilment, my rest.