Without fingers of ecstatic women


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What kind of a man would
Lives in words, marking them down as religion
As if life were a thing

You could inscribe, encode, digitize
A woman cannot be turned into art
She’s creation itself
There’s no binary to her

She’s magic, her care and womb
Loathes what is not real
Maybe that is why women despise poets
They don’t have time to become

Attached to a dreamer, their unborn children
Urge them to find less wild men
And besides, what atonement is there

In a life of unread poems?
I think I used to wash myself in that river
And I used to travel those landscapes
Maybe I was too poor to really travel

Maybe I was too cowardly
To find a woman I could stare into
And know all the beauty of this planet
I am nearly resigned to growing old

Alone with poems, like some familiar signal
Of my squandered youth, of literature
Being used to be my illegitimate cover
My design to escape from reality.

Instagram

On the Elite of the Countries & Nations


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This world is full of undue significance
Values parodied and profit personified
It’s not sustainable and won’t last

It’s the receipt of doom before
Our last meal, the anarchy has begun
And I don’t even dream anymore

About getting married, having children
In a world like this, of extravagance
Where you or I are replaceable

Only existing to fuel consumerist growth
Art is dead, literature is in denial
The crickets still sing, the sun still sinks

But the world has changed
In bronze and blaze, in false media
And politics ripe with corruption

And leaders whom I can imagine
Have rhetoric of profit and change once again.

Who wants to Save the Planet #Environment @TimHemlin


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The Profit Ethic

Shall I come to see
How your planet ruined
Biodiversity for the eternity
Of your small memory?

If your species goes extinct
What will it say about evolution?
That your God didn’t care
That you wanted to profit

More than you deemed to protect?
You wanted nuclear families
And you did it a billion times
Shall I come to see then

How you are accustomed to live?
How you consume a flowerless land
And build cities as ugly as winter
No, no I don’t think so

The Earth is your experiment
As the Spring reminds you
That nature is bigger than man
I heard rumours the oceans are dying.

The time of fire


70

The time of fire

This is the time of extinction
Not meteor or greenhouse
But human-made, ecosystems

Irreversibly dying, that which
Takes millions of years to evolve
This is the time of mammalian selfishness

Who hoard without regard
For other forms of life
They rage with children, billions

The world is young, many countries
Have a swarm of young people
Evidently certain to mimic western nations
And exploit and prosper
The News does not tell us this

That our planet is experiencing
A great drop and loss of biodiversity
In the lightning’s blitz of society’s
Celebration, creatures left their habitats
Unable to cope with the pillaging

The deforestation, the ocean-pollution
The urban sprawl, the short-term rape
This is the time of fire, oil, commodities
For men who would engineer their corn
To be poisonous, so that drug industries

Might profit, weep for the Earth
The Earth who made a bed of love
For our genes from 3.5 billion years ago
All has been passed down
The Earth made a brutal destroyer
Never imagine humanity as civilized.

One unexpected delight


41

-Wanting Qu bridges cultures, namely Vancouver and China, and I have to admit, I’m a bit smitten of this song (that inspired this poem).


One unexpected delight

You exist in my dreams
Like an intimate breath of hope
A radiant inexhaustible humour

That becomes a voice
And when I see you in the world
A voice whispers in my mind
That we are all connected
If you had the desire

To do good or beautiful things
I know you will, even as you live
In my heart, like a shade of light

Not like a stranger, but a feeling
That needs no explanation
An unexpected delight
That has a queer power of destiny

In the grace of your eyes
I see the youth of everyone’s dreams
Like an intimate sign of

How the world is big and small
The fate of all the worlds
That becomes a voice
I see you in all life

A voice whispers in my heart
That we are all connected
If you evolve to find a way

Out of selfishness, remember
The others who stood by you
Were not always the expected ones
Where the moon can set below
The Pleiades and familiar stars
You exist in my dreams
Without any hesitation
So I leave you there until
I am able to perceive you
In the blessed days ahead of me.

—————————–

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wanting_Qu

Emma’s Journey


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Now no more the slanting rays
Of rain or snow, this poetry
Of weather charting the bright haze
Of days on Earth, sweeping melodies

Did your forget even for a time?
That our days here are limited?
Feel it slipping like an evening hymn
The months become years of lost moments

Most musical and to heaven extending
The loves ones leave us now
The Sun we once held so dear
Is softly descending, O Lord our waiting eyes

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This universe as wide as the speed of light
These bosom nightly meditations for what
You would have become, little signs
Of creation and contemplation

While my world is growing dim
Now no more the crimson blaze
Of fiercely loving, give me wisdom
For these tragedies, of losing and loving

And starry pleasures of transcendent gestures
Encoded in art in private moments
Of what it feels like to be lost, anonymous
And solitary, the unexpected sleep
Of a youth dying before their course was set.

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Note: Emma Fillipoff was last seen in Victoria, BC, Canada.
https://www.facebook.com/HelpFindEmmaFillipoff

Learn about her story:

Fossil Fuel mentality


41

I heard a man say
We are part of the Environment
He was maybe the truest Canadian
That he spoke for us all

Had the courage to say
The economy is imaginary
Compared to the biosphere
Nobody was allowed to talk

Like that again, the scientists
Were muzzled, by conservatives
The loggers kept doing their thing
Kicking people off of their land

To reduce a wilderness
Into profit, and so the world went on
With pipe-line deals and broken treaties
If I am dumb beside your body, Nature

Know that my kind didn’t appreciate you
Scientists had been warning us
About global warning for decades
But we didn’t do anything about it

Here in Canada, we believed we had it all
Water, oil, space, forests, lakes
But the privileged don’t know what it means
The man went on:

“We humans are an infant species
A mere 150,000 year old baby.”

Montreal, The Ruined City


HMCS Ville de Quebec docks in Old Montreal Port

These cities they smell
Of advertisement, new degrees
Of invasions of privacy
The flashing lights

Do not complete me
The anonymous crowds
Do not seem reasonable
These cities they

Have forgotten how to smile
I am alone in them
While surrounded by
People on their mobile outlets

Each connected to their
Private reality, which is artificial
They click ‘like’ on an
Imaginary event, a poor distraction

For living, and I realize
I am impoverished socially by this
The augmented reality is
Digital, and I could be anywhere

But do I want to be here?
In a culture, that refuses
To speak the common tongue
English, in a city with a poor economy

These cities they seem to be
Getting more impoverished
As the decades celebrate
Cheap technological progress
And the provincial politics
Of the human condition continues.

Missing Person #EmmaFillipoff


Emma2

Have you ever been touched by someone who has inexplicably left your life? Do you know someone who went missing? Share your stories here, please retweet and repost this and share this on facebook.

Emma Fillipoff is a case in point. I was so touched by the documentary (Watch it below) and her mother’s dedication (https://www.facebook.com/shelley.fillipoff) to finding her daughter!

 

This poem is dedicated to Emma. Thousands of Canadians and Americans go missing every year. What can we do to help? Spread awareness. What are the signs that a person is vulnerable to running away or feeling isolated-alienated? Recognize these, and reach out. It could save a family, from a daughter running away. It could save a senior citizen, from taking their own life…

Emma Blog

 

Missing Person

You have gone missing and
I miss you, trapped inside
The alienation you must have felt

I keep listening
for news of you dear
Though I know all souls
Are in the end the same energy

You have gone missing and
I miss you, your photographs
Burn in my imagin-admiration
For the woman you became

We are all geniuses inside
But in missing you
It’s becoming more clear
Who you are, who you are to me

I’m tired of theories about
What happened to you
Or the last place you were seen
You have gone missing,
But you live on inside of me.

Emma turns 29, on January 6th.

Emma

Please like the following facebook:

https://www.facebook.com/shelley.fillipoff

The documentary was aired by the 5th Estate:

http://www.cbc.ca/fifth/findingemma

For the environment


12

At the feet of altars
Beneath old trees
At the foot of where
Rivers join, I feel
The sentence of hard labor
Served in me, the words
From the lips of the great sea

The smell of salt in the water
And the feel of grass
Between my toes
All that I can create
Is nothing compared to the world
The world we used so indiscriminately
While we talk of imaginary profit

We harm the thing we love
By how we live, and that’s
The stupidity of being
An animal that cares for self
For nuclear family above
All else, we have been socialized
To be selfish, to hoard, to exploit

Though in the vivacity of time
I know nature will return
The balance, our debts
Grow like burnt forests
They grow like poisoned oceans
They grow like crowded cities
And I can’t help but wonder

Does the rooftop garden
Know which master it serves?
Do the storms know
They are a weapon of karma
Upon an arrogance of man?

Winter Camped Under Various Stars


41

Come winter with your
Dry months of cold winds
I will take you in my room tonight
Lay you down where the Moon holds

Gray laurels and champagne for one
Graft your stony roots of granite
To my weary bones that sing
Of crystal towers, and eucalyptus trees

And frozen over rivers of marble piazzas
Let me watch the crowds and
Children with rosy cheeks
And that I’ve heard the lament of the land

So vast and so white, in the stillness
Of a silence that is the breath of night
Come winter, with your
Cascades of lovely snow, frozen councils
Basilicas of frothy twigs waiting for spring.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/winter-s-fairytale-303358298

I had no rest against her autumn cheeks


45

Autumn closes in on me
Soft as the bed in the earth
Cool as marble above the clouds
Her arms and her hands bleed

Red & orange maples, rain on leaf
The smell of rich damp pores
A cloak of darkness before cold
The chilly air bringing dark to

My eyes with her lack of usual sunshine
Autumn closes in on me
Bringing me into a spiritual transitional
State, the quiet time together

Of pondering what was, in buds of what will be
I am swollen with change for
Her racing weeks of busy months
Like the pounding of horses in the mud

I awake to find leaves have changed
They have fallen in groups of colors
To form the imaginary kingdom of
Mountains of mirth, sometimes I believe

We all invent our kingdoms
To cope with all of life’s many states
So the body of autumn might detain me
So I might bare my branches for art.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Motherland-Chronicles-34-In-the-Secret-Garden-404198254

A Breath in Snow


109

As I walk up the rise into the silence of snow
I bear witness to transparent snowflakes
The bright falling breaths of our shallow lives

The paper tissues that dabs the dips of fate
The snow is deaf and blue and white
It licks the oxygen from the brittle ground

Swishing your lips is your remedy
For that whistle in your hollow chest
Our body is a blanket of snow for winter

Our body has been all the seasons
Of water, stuttering down the miles
The swollen river of all nestled and snapping things

I suck air back into the spanking sea-breeze
Of the twisted motionless spitting paths of winter
A sky flipped open for our shared afternoons
With no scratchings, only the rustling of an emptied hope.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/snow-75022732