Ques?ion

Wishes on a wakeful walk
lay lonely along a long stretch of land,
diluting, diseminating, disappearing,
singing sobs of sweet sorrow.

Alone again amidst a mass
of old obsolete orary outcries,
mixed, mangled, mostly forgotten
but boxed in by
personal preferrence.

Cranium cracks,
fears fly freely
but out of control
they accost the mind

box slightly broken but
try to contain them
take tape, the
screams stay.

Some got away,
free radicals.
Stray stress,
a strange sabbatical.

Love the Liturgy.
Leave Lost Love Lost
and all things will come.
In Time.

The classic line
"it's broken."

No one really knows what's broken,
but when it wont start,
when it won't run,
and you've given up
on the truck,
leaning on the passenger door,
playing it off, smokin'
and a bystander approaches to help,
so as not to remain token,
you repeat.
"The carborator is broken."

This is
a simple prayer,
from a very simple heart.

I pray
for a loving 2009.
Love thy neighbour, and his neighbour, and the guy across the street, and the guy that stabbed you on halloween for a 2 lb. bag of candy. Wars are for pussies.

I pray
for a stable 2009.
The ball keeps rolling, but only because it's all downhill from here. Why not entertain stagnancy for a year, then figure out where to go.

I pray
for a safe 2009.
Hurricane Ronald and co. need to rest. Same with Tsunami Sam, Earthquake Jake, Tornado Teresa... Chlamydia Carmen...

I pray
once again
and above all
for love.

May the world find love.
May love find place
in the world.

Obama '08 ain't got nothing
on Love '09

amen.

I was thrice asked,
Where does your inspiration come from?

the first time the answer was simple,
managable,
borderline cute.

When my first grade teacher asked me,
"where does your inspiration come from?"
the only thing I could think of was,
My dad.

My dad was the best.
Old (he would've been 50, since he was 44 when I was born),
but not old (he had lots of black hair. he still has lots of black hair though...).
Strong (he could hold me down with one arm)
but not merciless (one tear would transform a spanking to a TO).
That's where my inspiration came from.

In grade 7 I was asked again
"where does your inspiration come from?"
I chose between answers, their pros and their cons,
and God seemed like the right choice.

God was the best.
Old (he wrote the freakin' bible)
but not old (he hasn't retired yet)
Strong (Genesis 6:5-7)
but not merciless (John 3:16).
That's where my inspiration came from.

In grade 9 I was asked again
"Where does your inspiration come from?"
A little older. A little wiser. Still little though.
I seemed like the right choice.

I was the best.
I was old (I was in high school. Jeez)
but not old (I still couldnt drive)
I was strong (OFSAA BABY!!! OFSAA!!!)
but not merciless (I only bullied people with my eyes)
I inspired myself.

I asked myself at 5 AM this morning,
"Where does your inspiration come from?"
it is now 6...
Consider me... Uninspired...