Saturday, December 22, 2012


(I have always found Joy to the World very paternalistic and imperialist, so here is a non offensive version)

Joy to the world, the year is done!
Let earth comfort all beings;
Let every heart prepare for peace,
And humans and nature sing,
And humans and nature sing,
And humans, and humans, and nature sing.

Joy to the earth, common sense reigns!
Let people conscience employ;
While fields and floods, rocks, hills, and plains
Repeat the sounding joy,
Repeat the sounding joy,
Repeat, repeat, the sounding joy.

No more let wars and sorrows grow,
Nor thorns infest the ground;
Peace comes to make blessings flow
Far as the earth is bound,
Far as the earth is bound,
Far as, far as, the earth is bound.

Peace rules the world with truth and grace,
And makes the nations prove
The glories of their ideals,
And wonders of true love,
And wonders of true love,
And wonders, wonders, of true love.

Tuesday, December 18, 2012


Mothers and fathers of America
Brave and free
Now is the time
To crowd the Capitol steps
With you and your children
Show in your numbers
You are not to be trifled with
By the lawmakers of the land
Or the lobbyists who own them
Or the merchants of pocket size murder
Whose factories churn out unending tragedy
For you and your neighbors

Teachers and students of America
Bowed but unbroken
Now is the time
To find the gun lovers
To study their ways and days
Show their lies
The pockets they have lined
Of lawmakers of the land
Expose the lobbyists who own them
Shackle the merchants of murder
Shutter the factories of unending tragedy
And save you and your neighbors

Brothers and sisters of America
Despaired and divided
Now is the time
To put history behind you
And put life first
To return safety to streets and schools
Fight for peace and stability
Order the lawmakers of your land
To turn out the lobbyists who blind them
Muzzle the merchants of murder
Turn factories of tragedy to better ends
And save your country for old and young

Wednesday, November 21, 2012


This blog
Is not dead
Just sleeping under a drift
Of white papers
A fallen sparrow
And a broken pot

Monday, October 22, 2012


Phyllis was our Labrador
Mother, fierce as an arctic wind
Wife, warm as a sandy beach summer
Grandmother, heart as big as the Big Land
Painter, colored our trees and sky
Storyteller, told us myths of our birth
She shines in our hearts and minds
Like stars in the Labrador sky

Friday, October 19, 2012


Autumn spiders are out
Flying in the high fall sky
Pregnant black bodies
Vibrating against grey clouds
Catching the last lazy flies
To fatten themselves
To feed their wriggling white
Young when spring comes

Sunday, October 14, 2012


Just another day
In a world without you
The grass is still green
And the sky is still blue
But sometimes late at night
I just don’t know what to do
Just another day
In a world without you

Friend told me you’re in heaven
With tears in his eyes
If that place is so much better
I can see why he cries
Acts like he’s got a direct line
At least that’s what he tries
Friend told me you’re in heaven
With tears in his eyes

Monday, October 8, 2012


I walked across the bridge
The exact moment
When day turned night
Cars in front
Moving shadows
Cars behind
Moving stars

Sunday, October 7, 2012


Phyllis, fierce foliage
Of the Big Land
Unbent by arctic winds
You sheltered us
With pendulous breast and belly
Venus figurine from Siberia
Body of the earth-mother
Cybele, magna mater
Life giver
Magna avia, greatest grandmother
Moon-eyed children
We worshipped you
The oldest religion
You painted holy scenes
Mountains, hawks, lions
Hubbard’s story and picture
Telling us stories all day
Stews of truth and lies
Myths of your life
Skinny girl, force fed
Widow of Attis
You knew us from birth
‘You dirt’ you called us
When we shat or puked
Confiding the truth of mortality
Prophesying what we all become
And where you have returned

City Garden

This poem is unfinished and unsatisfying, but what the hell...

My Garden

I am a city boy
I do not grow vegetables
I plant seeds of wisdom
To grow fruits of kindness
And make wine of friendship and joy

I wish I had a garden
Of wind and dirt and sun
But instead I have this garden
Which goes wherever I am
When I finish my toil
I will sleep beneath its soil

Saturday, September 29, 2012

Missionary Girl

At my door again
Sunday morning
Missionary girl

Sometimes alone
Sometime with an old crone
Clucking behind you

Do you only get to heaven
For people saved
Or do doors slammed in your face

Your petticoats
Lace collar and parasol
Would look great
In a museum

Underneath them
Your flesh aches for sin
Your eyes look at my feet
As if I could tempt you

Your face tanned from walking
Your body white from hiding
Nipples waiting to be plucked
Like cherry blossoms
Maidenhood waiting to fall
But withering for no vine

No, not with me
No, not with this
Old, fat, foreign
Married man

With a young cock
Of your blood
Who’d make you scream in joy
And believe in god
When heaven flashes through you

Loving isn't sin
Heaven can be here on earth
If you live before you die

But you won’t
The crones hem you in
Cluck and disapprove
Until you become one of them

Another reason why
I shake my head
Sunday mornings

Thursday, September 27, 2012

Young people of China and Japan

Young people of China and Japan
You do not need to hate each other
To satisfy your ancestors’ ghosts

You were not obliged to destroy Nanking then
Just as you are not obliged now
To destroy your workplaces and cars in Xia

There was no need then
Of ‘No Chinese or dogs allowed’ signs in Hong Kong parks
There is no need now
Of ‘Islands belong to China. Temporarily not serving Japanese people’
Signs on Canadian karaoke parlors

You learned the hard way in 1945
That making some men gods above others
Makes life as fleeting as cherry blossoms
You do not need to learn again
That putting The State above your humanity
Makes men less than animals

There is no need to assert
That islands are connected to China
Through Taiwan undersea
Or to Japan
Through years of ownership and settlement
When the entire world is connected
Each shore to shore
Each nation to nation
Every person to person

Monday, September 24, 2012

The Hope Sellers

Fertility and infertility doctors agree
The Hippocratic Oath
Does not apply
When you’re selling hope

Rubber gloving others’ loving juices
Sperm and ovum in a petri dish
Performing alchemy
To grant a wish

And when it fails again, again
You in your white gown
Turn off your real face
Plaster on a simple pathetic frown

Other doctors would say yes or no
Feel the obligation to be frank
But no means no fees
You can’t put conscience in the bank

And so we sit, again, again
On this merry-go-round of tears
Tunnel of pills and needles
Looking older than our years

In truth it isn’t all your fault
Science hasn’t come far enough yet
To patch the broken bucket
That lets life slip from it

And so as our life stands still
On this breaking wheel we remain
Trusting doctor confidence
Holding to our chains

Fertility and infertility doctors agree
The Hippocratic Oath
Does not apply
When you’re selling hope

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Autumn Rains in Japan

This season of mists
Between summer and fall
Is the beaded curtain
Which hides Ameratsu
Sitting back flushed from her dance
Undulations of sensual heat
That made us sweat all summer long

Saturday, September 8, 2012

Welcome to Future City

My next door neighbor
Started as a corporation
Then became an incorporated person
Married a faith-based organization
Honeymooning on the moon
Now they’re trying to birth a nation

Welcome to future city
You’ll find yourself here one day
Where people work till death
And corporations play

Seafood’s out of reach
Since the ocean went and died
I prefer the taste of soylent blue
Of all the colours that I’ve tried
If they said it’s made of people
No one cares if they lied

Welcome to future city
You’ll find yourself here one day
Where people either consume
Or are consumed if they can’t pay

The Vatican gave up on original sin
Now they say we’re born with original debt
I’ll spend most of my life
Paying for what my folks got on credit
But I keep on consuming
Cause my kids will pay for it

Welcome to future city
You’ll find yourself here one day
Where people work till death
And corporations play

Friday, September 7, 2012

Fade It Back

Nose to nose
We lose an eye
Mashed together
Looking at your skylight

Lost too long
In bamboo cities
Missing meat
And bread and cheese

Oyster clam
And geoduck
American shellfish
In an asian pond

Thursday, August 30, 2012

The Real Superheroes

The red and blue Man of Steel
Hardly seemed real
No wonder people began to worship him

He ain’t been stopping bullets
Since he took to the pulpit
He’s got the fastest growing faith in the world

These are the real superheroes
Larger than you or me
These are the real superheros
Gods walking proud and free

And the shadpwy Caped Crusader
Was taken down by Ralph Nader
For embezzlement and stock manipulation

Half a billion in gadgets
Some say even a rocket
Disappeared from his R&D laboratories

These are the real superheroes
High above the law
These are the real superheroes
High up above us all

As for that Amazon princess
She’s still trying to save us
By occupying every protest she can

She traded armor showing her ass
For a jumpsuit smelling of tear gas
Truth telling lasso as a belt

These are the real superheroes
Never giving up the fight
These are the real superheroes
Doing what they can to make things right

Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Sleep Well Space Hero

Rider of the Eagle
Whose step was higher than the Great Pyramids
When you wrestled free from Mother Terra
Placed Man’s conquering foot on Luna
No human alive
Did not hear your mightily footstep
In no dark jungle, no burning desert
No frozen waste, no teeming city
Could that step not be heard
Great science hero
Sleep well, space hero

You taught the children
Learned the reasons when other heroes fell
Stayed away from the orators and cynics
Believed in your small, personal god
Refused to sell your voice for gold
Refused to lose hope
As your nation clipped Apollo’s wings
And turned its back on the stars
To read the books of hate
Great humble hero
Sleep well, space hero

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Avocado Ode

Ode to the Avocado
(To the tune of Handel’s Messiah)



Ripe you’re a creamy spread
Best eaten on toasted bread


Pure sweet green veggie fat
Give me some more of that


Easiest food ever found
For ages hanging around
Food for some extinct giant
I love you I ain’t lying


Friday, August 24, 2012

Harry's Willy

Isn’t it rather silly
To argue if Harry’s willy
Should get a bit of Sun
When the real problem
Is how nobles still rob men
And when these parasites will be done

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

A Reading Country

To dive back into a book
To enter another's world
After only having read Facebook for so long
To interface with a familiarly alien reality
To feel the weight in my hand
Instead of  burned into my eyes
To rediscover the joy of reading
To reconnect with the tradition
Of aeons of thinkers, dreamers and writers

If we ever lose this
For Tweets and videos and kewl pwning n00bs
We will be lost forever
In a country with no past
And no future

Saturday, July 28, 2012

Red Planets

The first bootprints on Mars
Mankind’s mark on that red soil
Will read ‘Made in China’ and be
Made from sweatshop toil

Build another mega-church
Forget about a moonbase
When churches don’t pay taxes
America can’t afford the space race

Space in English will stay orbital
Floating hotels and low gee sex
The rich’s highest playground
Dreaming of nothing next

Russian space will be for work
Ferrying payloads for others
Astronauts will pay for rides
While at home NASA smothers

No more freeze dried apple pie
Eaten with a spork
But a pair of plastic chopsticks
For mabodofu and mushu pork

I do not say that it is bad
That English space will die
I’ve already seen the future
In an episode of Firefly

Sunday, July 22, 2012

Snake Spot

As I do karate on the deck
In the park by the gymnasium
Where girls sweat through
Endless rounds of volleyball
I fail to move like a tiger
Fall short of a crane’s poise or grace
Turning to kick like a mule
I see
A black green ribbon
Weave across the green reservoir
Lapping lightly on the waves
Then disappearing noiselessly
Up the path between the trees
Straighter and swifter than any shot
I will ever make

Sunday, July 15, 2012

Kyoto Friend Litmus

If we are at Sanjo
Near the old bridge
Over the duck river
Surrounded by backpackers
Bongo drumming Jippies
And firebreathers
Bad boy bands
Where the old samurai
Set heads rolling
And floated poetry on the water
Drinks in our hands
And I turn to you
And say
“Let’s walk all the way
Back to Kyoto Station”
And you say
I am not sure
We can stay friends

Friday, July 13, 2012

Night Drive # 142

The night drive
To the clinic
Tired from a day of tests
I sit at the wheel
Driving you to a night of tests
Two people with hope in their eyes
Like fog on the road

A train off its track
Snaking down mountain roads on a flatbed
Slows us down
Give us more time in shadows
Between our door and clinic fluorescents
Trees shush by

Back roads home
Quiet save for your loud tears
The tablet plays Irish songs
Under sepia halogen bridges
Two hopeless lovers
Flying over the lute shaped waters

Saturday, July 7, 2012


Plants standing in the dark
Cold, inanimate
Colorless, ungrowing
Until the word was spoke
And became light

Two girls plied glass after glass
Of wine from their vineyard
Till father was reeling
Then took him to bed
Milked him of their seed

The angry father
Looked with regret on his creations
Turned the heavens loose
To murder them all
Then changed his mind

These tales
Have a beauty of image and word
Like every lie ever told

Thursday, July 5, 2012

Ode to Youth

Youth is beauty
Even when cruel or ugly
Youth is true
Even when wrong or stupid

Which is why the young live
Trying to be older
Youth makes them bolder
Than their years
Which is why the old give
Anything to be younger
Age makes them hunger
For days without fears

Youth is beauty
Even when cruel or ugly
Youth is true
Even when wrong or stupid

Sunday, July 1, 2012

My Poetry, My Breath

I will only buy new books
To keep the writers
In their cages

My poetry, my breath
Short, sharp intake
Of the world
Long, deadly exhalation
Of its poison
The only good poem
Is a short one

Poems, like bubbles
Arise and die
Before fully formed
In the busy mind

Saturday, June 30, 2012

Station Birds

Back again this year you little flyers
Back to the neon signs and electric wires
In front of my station square
Feathers float frozen in the air
Ten thousand cries shrilling
Ten thousand birds milling

Those idiots from city hall
Shoot sonics of no effect at all
They stand and scratch their heads
To make their daily bread
Truth is I am content
Where your mating season is spent

No ones raises an eye
To the orange halogen sky
Save for once a year
When your flock draws near
And when you leave this street
They gaze back at their feet

I thank you from my heart
I will be sad when you depart
Although you sing gaily
In thronging compact amity
Here among the human herd
Such friendly song is seldom heard