Inspiration: I sat beside nepalese film maker K San at dinner and he shared a writers discipline with me - thanks
21/11 - on a bus from the neemrana conference centre in rajastan heading for Delhi
"9 litres per minute" of conservation
while "shaving, bathing, brushing"
No "endorsement" or "protocol"
without risk of being "thrown out"
?Who is behind the smile.
?Is it the same "each day rediscovered" soul.
?Why can I only see the curiosity and opportunism.
The bus fills up with luggage and PCs
so we jettison bottled water and coke
which is immediately recovered by hotel staff
to be sold to the next customers.
Camel bus standoff.
?How much time is needed
to save face
before they can start discussing
how to get on with it.
"Let me by" before
Rajastan four lane divided highway
shrinks to Haryana rocker two.
4 lanes under construction and
?which ones are live
passing burst frustrated
by highway rumble strips
"horn please" license plate
dead tire scarecrow
four colour duster dealers
green ripe oranges
23/11 - kanneyyakamuri - southern tip of India full of native pilgrimages to the zellers lookalike temple
0430 loudspeaker sings us awake
for chai and train.
A simple hymn served up as
"fuck the tourists" refrain.
Or so it seems
so fresh from dreams
so sweet from monsoon rain
Plastic wrapped life jackets
for every 4th man -
and none for the school girls
who'll swim if they can.
Police boys whistle,
concrete arrows direct,
doing vivekanda and his guru's command
Tibetan vendors at every pilgrimage scene.
Eager to capitalize on any religious frenzy.
Yes calm behind their tankas and potalaitos
Hawkerless railway stations
Make us anxious
But then the paratha man and coffee kid appear
With breakfast and good cheer
Dhottis unfold with a
leap to the tracks.
They slap on the sandals
then billow up thighs.
Are folded decorous
more knees for the eyes
24/11 - varkala beach - we arrive
We choose the "concrete wigwams"
- ?in deference to the Indians" -
from the usual sandwich board
of indistighisahable accommodation options.
Sea Pearl chalets rewards us
with clean, quiet, functional at a competitive price
- and just above the surf
A tray of religions
without any beer.
Limeless lime sodas
as Pepsis appear.
Today's catch fills pakoras,
sweet masalas tart floras,
cooked or bottled - we consume without fear
25/11 - varkala beach - we eat
Every restaurant has the same
printed menus with
variations on the "not available".
Beer appears on one's receipt
as '70 rupee pop' -
"please keep the bottle under the table".
A "gawking Indian boy" window presents itself
and Margaret dashes for the surf.
?how long will she have to stay in?
Indian sari midriff sentiment
doesn't work for me -
too much flesh feeding the bollywood
"plump is trump" assumption
Prawns and squid and tuna did
attract a crowd for dinner.
But "we sell beer" covertly whispered
was certainly the winner.
Wait 20 minutes for
eight drops of 25%
to purify a litre of water
and don't panic
if it doesn't taste
like the iodine cocktail
you remember.
But wonder …
26/11 - varkala - we swim
Thick black sand beach
inches away on porters heads
to fill Bisleri candle holders or
Delhi Development Corporation cement mixers
Twin blue uniformed lifeguards
cruise the sunbathers
and lend a feeble hand
when the evening's fish net catch come in
Cowbaths take time!
No docile shower submission
tail waving feet stamping
and no flies in sight
Crows on the edge
of our Bombay toast breakfast
lusting after the honey
"traditionally mixed with coconut and banana"
backwater tourism promotion varkala bureau chief stanley wilson
unfolds intriguing maps and flashes compelling houseboat photos
then clinches the deal with an invitation to stay at his parent's house.
A retreating monsoon day
wishing for the sun
to shake the lifeless humidity
and brighten the grey
Twin German grandmothers
in complementary floral shorts
turn sideways and flash too much leg
where pants should be.
27/11 - Varkala - we depart
Midday net-menders share umbrella shade under
watchful eye of matching purse and sari tourists
Lottery ticket man displays your chances
mounted on bicycle handlebars.
3 axle 4 wheel trainstation luggage cart
scatters platform crowd
Sari shop tailor foot pumps sewing machine
in time with bob marley
you'll need at least four legs to escape advances from
the "horse ride" entrepreneur
28/11 - enroute to the backwaters
"bad" hand delivery neutralizes
"first fare of the day" good luck
unIndian pre-departure overview of ferry boat services -
know your stop times and beverage prices.
Frenetic Indian music hypnosis
threatened by irritating imprecision of hand clapping violinist
Taxi driver paid by the honk.
Decaying Allepey port infrastructure
decorates children's amusement park
Jesus smiles from every room in the Wilson house -
"there are so many types of Christians."
30/11 - From a houseboat sunset
Add 50% - then you'll budget right
to buy a future service.
Hidden costs, provisions lost -
such surprises don't unnerve us.
A cell phone at home
soon one on the boat.
Maybe a webpage
to electronically float.
While the toilet is leaking,
"no English" is speaking,
and the comments book
praises are rote.
When lightening arcs the sky
with thunder seconds later.
We sip out beer in peace -
no need to race.
But then it spears the sky
and fills the lake with light.
We finish up the bottle -
just in case
!!!we gotta bail, or swim,
or otherwise desert
our houseboat home.
And find a safer place.
"one pen" or "ten rupees"
Go big or stay home.
The ask keeps increasing
wherever we roam.
02/12 - Fort Cochin
5000 rupees per match made.
10k if ones "a prize"
or the signs are hard to fit.
Travel expenses covered
but you gotta feed yourself
or starve a little bit.
It's the joy of happy couples
and a parents duty done
that gives "marriage counseling" the hit.
Heading to dreams thru a Kerelan palm fringed sunset … then
unfolding the day in a parched Maharastra desert haze.
?Are we waiting on the waitlist
or "confirmed" as some would say?
Travel agents reassure us.
Station master says "wait one day" -
with a flicker of the wrist.
?Will we be treated to a bed
in tiers of two or three?
Read the ticket, try the wicket
where they tell us "wait and see" -
with a wobble of the head.
?Do we understand their sign
Do we need to know at all
If we hurry with our worry
will we miss the wallah's call
"Chai" - and with a book recline.
A/C passes for mom and dad.
The rest of the family gets sleeper.
All you can eat of lime pickles and dal -
a job on the railway's a keeper.
04/12 - Delhi
Been waiting to go home
since yesterday morning.
Reflecting on the ease
of soothing ocean breeze.
Ten days of gentle brain.
The train pulled in to Delhi
thru miles of desperate shanties.
Seeing the despair
not mine to repair.
A thousand years of pain.
The plane will fly at midnight
thru twelve timezones.
Returning me to ponder
the neighbourhood much fonder.
Some time before the rain.
We share the bench
my headache and her sore feet.
Our families shopping
for a memory and a gift.
While we're stopping
and praying for a lift.
Copyright Notice © 1999 Peter Gillies
I've seen a few this time
summer '99
Inspiration: dug up some '98 treasures, and found a few by the great waters
By the Great Waters (24/12/98)
I've seen a few this time.
Sun sparkling on Gatineau
ripples ice free. Mornings
from my lovers window -
she works there except this
time. And talks to me
how nature converses on
its shores.
A stiff wind not icy
glassy Kew Beach sand.
From my sister's house a
sheltered ravine descent to
come upon the open sea
Lake Ontario in blue
and green.
Remarking at the voyagers
without a map
slap of paddles
breaking air.
From my Mother's porch a
stroll a run a bike a
ski the wide Ottawa shores
hold us smiling stranger's
sunsets.
I'll be home soon though
when I'm old it may
not be so.
From another's window
I'll see the Georgia straight
ahead, and way behind.
I have been gone
a long long time.
Which is me? (05/08/99)
Paralized by beers, or fears,
Or at least disguised.
"Its not me."
I put it on myself
The defenseless side
It looks like me
From the underside
Like value village shorts
Worn with pride
Inspired to abstain or refrain -
Or to be desired.
"Which is me?"
I play upon myself
The senseless side
It hooks in me
Fans a riptide
Sports a sarong
Tied - Dyed.
Contented with the sun, or run
Or at least extended
Beyond me.
I push it thru myself
Pretences tried
It takes a week of me
The patient side
Subltes a heart
Not denied.
C'est que j'aime (08/08/99)
Nous restons deux semaines a quebec et puis ...
Je connais, pour les autres
Ils aiment le quatre vingt dix
Mais pour mois
C'est le soixante quinze
Parce que ca ce l'angle
Ou je pense, je joue
Je chante, je refleche
Toutes ensembles
A cette slope je trouve
Le tranquilite et le bruit
Le solitude et la camaraderie
Le concrete et le fluide
De quoi j'ai besoin
A la soixante quinze
Ou - si necessaire -
A la soixante seize
Une liste ou Une Poeme (08/07/99)
Est ce que possible
D'avoir les deux?
Les listes sont toujours
Plein des choises que
Faite les poemes
En jeapardy
Les poems se cachent
Sous (dans) les listes
Quand on ajoute un chose
A la liste
On perd un mot
De la poeme
C'est possible
D'avoir duex poemes.
Le chien currieuse. (08/07/99)
Les jeunes filles (JF) jouent aux baseball
Les jeunes hommes (JH) jouent aux crochets
Les JF lancent le ball comme un JH Les JH faisent virent le mallet comme une JF
Un chien les regarde currieusement
Les arbres n'aient aucun interest.
Les JF retournent les gaunts aur JH
Les JH sont touts occupes avec leurs match
No magic ab solution (09/08/99)
backroad gatineau wanderings while lewis played soccer
There seems to be
No magic
And it hurts.
Those expectations grew
Untested by some truths -
They're mine to hold
And measure by
To wisely use
And then discard
From time to time
There seems to be
No absolutes.
Faith in the signs (09/08/99)
Just go until
There is an intersection -
And make a choice.
You may choose
To inquire first
Or take a chance
Or steal a glance
At maps or signs
Or close your eyes
And trust the times
You've gone on faith
In some direction.
Paddadling (09/08/99)
I came across
A country road
Meandering back and forth
Across a stream
Of childhood canoe exploits.
Too shallow for a boat of boys.
If this was his father (30/08/99)
popped a few of something and then checked out the inflight movie without sound
Pig corpse across the shoulder
enters flashlite galley.
While widow taps the pane.
Uniformed teen smokers don't complain
One wants to track him down
thru poker alley.
Fortune teller claps the rain.
Anxious father feels no pain.
Ditch digger soils his suit
in cowpie valley.
Herder sweats red freckle smile.
Slippery cycle spins a mile.
Shadows smoother stonehedge bride
As pastor rails the tally.
Chickens scramble in ten speed wake.
Mother woes them with a cake.
Donkey respects the ride
While lovers dally.
Dance hall smokes along the tiles.
Father waltzes for a while.
Missed Calling (08/12/98)
got home heard
you called
and alexa too
"daddy i'm at X's house
wonderin' ?where are you"
one's in bed
the other
not yet tired
both are missed
both are love
inspired.
If Not - I Do (08/12/98)
I stepped out on the glacier -
invisible peaks miles above.
Calmly anticipating. Patient.
Next time it might melt -
?do i risk the step
Or stay home flower tender -
trimming, firming, mingling
among my green pets.
Someday they'll die -
?do i dare the cry
the sky has cleared
it might not rain
i'll venture shopping
staples starched ?say
where's the list -
?do i know the name
If not i'll take the blame
A MOON FOR EACH OF INFINITiES CASES (08/12/98)
discovered some yearsback sunset sketches from dharamsala - just enough info to bring back the memory
I numbered the sky
Gave it a page
Sketched some limits
Coded each space
I returned to that spot
To capture again
A few seconds more
Of infinities place
I compared one and two
I study them still
For reflections of wisdom
Two moons of my face
Humbly now - check!
My feet on the ground
But I get the best pictures
If I stand on a case.
Approved Dining (27/12/98)
"I can't believe I agree
to lunch with kids."
But she did
For him
And we approved.
For what its worth
There is a price
I put on approval
Like Mom of Meg
Alexa too, I'll have her say
How her mom and sibs
Have struck a deal
To split the work
Even Linnie though
They haven't met
She knows my joy
We dine with kids.
George Washington in profile (06/08/98)
Hot curry stomach resting
Fuzzy antlered baby deer
Lupin inhaling marmots
Two from the geologists mold
Patience isn't my virtue hiker.
Nalgene bouquet
Strawberry boots
Sponge incense holder
Starting over fears
Closing time (07/08/98) - thanks gail
There's always tears at closing time
And pain behind the door
All the cheers we had together
Now the promise of no more.
Respect those tears
Embrace that pain
Fire that anger
Neglect to aim
Stand naked in the rain …
Close that door together now
Quiet, wonder, remember how
Life loved our brighter days
Better guide our parted ways.
Subduing ticket angst in the phil zone (21/09/99)
For vancouer sun city editor and big grateful dead fan graham rockingham ... who expressed some anxiety about the security of our just procurred tickets to see the san francisco phil lesh and friends shows in october '99 - he left toronto '76 "Who are you" tickets on a restaurent table and still shivers.
A LARGE valium
might be the one
or a touch a whiskey
could get it done
a little grapefruit
diet spun
or sip a bean
or just be seen
in the phil zone
Wakefield Mute (meg barker)
Nudging mists, spin half moon around
main street right in the river, left in the town
What new antique did James dig up?
O'Corcoran's fruit wagon...? Or Lemay's tire rack?
Sandy's long asleep, pepperoni ordered for Thursday,
Poet's corner moving across the water.
The lanterns twinkle.
Martin catches "the chaser", red-blue sirens scream light but no noise on the bridge.
A new silver roof catches the moonbeams from the curve of the driveway.
Fluffy fleabane lines the curve. Even Oliver is silent as he jumps in glee.
The Habit of my Drinking (22/09/99)
Its been a month since summer
and still I'm sipping beer.
Though then I slurped from time to time
it helps to quench the thirst i find.
And then forget it puts to sleep
my dick my brain don't look to far
Though then I moved from place to place
It helps to tame the hounds I face
Soon I'll be dryer
as I aspire
Though I'll need to wire
up somehow.
Some other diet may inspire
May help me watch my mind inquire
Sometimes it's hard to hear (mb)
"Some other diet may inspire
May help me watch my mind inquire"
Or my mind may inquire which does to diet thus inquire.
Thus my diet may inquire fish and tea and grassy things.
To ease the flow twixt query and rings.
And such rings as there may be
Will make facile the thoughts that be.
Summoned thoughts fill the soul
Filling up the wells (and hole)
Where once so happily did freely pour
the booze now so hard to get down there.
tags and frames are not to blame (25/09/99)
sent this inqiury to my three computer resource people
it came to me in a bad dream -
"frames generally don't get metataged.
its just the master page - the frame set
- what was it that larry said ...???... I tried ..."
anyway - estimados senores - is it true?
it seems to me that in order to tag each frame
- say a set of different product specs, or project reports -
a unique frame set for each would be required ... Or so they claim.
i know i'm letting this erupt on the weekend - but summer had no such stain.
Contemplating a pill (09/29/99)
i'm getting a message from my brain
about my dick
its time to pick
up
the place i'm in
and sport another pair of shorts
if i turn them
inside out
or just rotate
that's four new roles
to contemplate
you may not be with me
until you're fifty
likely never
but if you call
I'll tell you all
i know
about N.O.
sitting from time to door (09/30/99)
last nite another of my homelessness dreams - later in my mind to the possibilities of "home" ...
i've got a chance to move -
as always -
but with the big twist -
love and work together.
i'll plan to house sit -
as before -
move in and out from time
to time from door to door
I don't want to choose -
as expected.
Still believe "here and there"
are both workable.
I'll put up the ads nonetheless -
as insurance
that i get myself
the best view.
ACT II (meg barker 09/10/99)
Last year's fashion show didn't go unnoticed;
Petticoats tranced in red, gold, green;
Gauzy drapes of misted grey, night mysteries being laid to rest, before
Lifting at sun-up for the marching of the Birch: a glitter of loud white posts,
Yelling for attention from the crowded audience; the pines can afford to be patient.
Have I failed, this year, to see a drama?
A shadow in the darkness, an ache in the heart,
A wolf in the woods? Owls perch far from their roosts, peering silently,
expecting me to hear. The lamb bites.
Heedless, soundless, sun and water scheme the next show. Lights, curtain, ACTION.
events for another week (meg barker 99/10/14)
Muse or goblin,
I don't know,
what does it matter,
they've got me low.
Mess in the kitchen
mess in the hall,
today was the day,
to clean them all.
But down in the basement,
nary on but a pump,
fuse box exploded,
gave me a THUMP.
Now no water,
now no heat,
what did I do,
to deserve this treat?
Tears in the first place,
kleenex came next,
lists after that
so..no longer perplex't.
So lists have their uses,
and I could be quite wrong,
poems come at any time,
but best when I'm strong.
Two tunes penned in for Thursday (110999), Wahl
The commander wrote me
>a poetic invite to coffee
and I had to reply
>Come for breakfast
and eat alot
>Stay for lunch
and get real hot
>or meet half-way
and smoke some pot
>and drink a bunch
or maybe not
>sometimes it's hot
when its raining
>and others cold
but refraining from
>coffee any way
at the end of the day
>just not old
just not in the way
either
>whiskey aye
verted
>or whiskey nay
bourly imparted
>it's up to you
or me
or we
>wha-d-ya-say
Copyright Notice © 1999 Meg Barker, Wahl and Peter Gillies
By the Great Waters (24/12/98)
I've seen a few this time.
Sun sparkling on Gatineau
ripples ice free. Mornings
from my lovers window -
she works there except this
time. And talks to me
how nature converses on
its shores.
A stiff wind not icy
glassy Kew Beach sand.
From my sister's house a
sheltered ravine descent to
come upon the open sea
Lake Ontario in blue
and green.
Remarking at the voyagers
without a map
slap of paddles
breaking air.
From my Mother's porch a
stroll a run a bike a
ski the wide Ottawa shores
hold us smiling stranger's
sunsets.
I'll be home soon though
when I'm old it may
not be so.
From another's window
I'll see the Georgia straight
ahead, and way behind.
I have been gone
a long long time.
Which is me? (05/08/99)
Paralized by beers, or fears,
Or at least disguised.
"Its not me."
I put it on myself
The defenseless side
It looks like me
From the underside
Like value village shorts
Worn with pride
Inspired to abstain or refrain -
Or to be desired.
"Which is me?"
I play upon myself
The senseless side
It hooks in me
Fans a riptide
Sports a sarong
Tied - Dyed.
Contented with the sun, or run
Or at least extended
Beyond me.
I push it thru myself
Pretences tried
It takes a week of me
The patient side
Subltes a heart
Not denied.
C'est que j'aime (08/08/99)
Nous restons deux semaines a quebec et puis ...
Je connais, pour les autres
Ils aiment le quatre vingt dix
Mais pour mois
C'est le soixante quinze
Parce que ca ce l'angle
Ou je pense, je joue
Je chante, je refleche
Toutes ensembles
A cette slope je trouve
Le tranquilite et le bruit
Le solitude et la camaraderie
Le concrete et le fluide
De quoi j'ai besoin
A la soixante quinze
Ou - si necessaire -
A la soixante seize
Une liste ou Une Poeme (08/07/99)
Est ce que possible
D'avoir les deux?
Les listes sont toujours
Plein des choises que
Faite les poemes
En jeapardy
Les poems se cachent
Sous (dans) les listes
Quand on ajoute un chose
A la liste
On perd un mot
De la poeme
C'est possible
D'avoir duex poemes.
Le chien currieuse. (08/07/99)
Les jeunes filles (JF) jouent aux baseball
Les jeunes hommes (JH) jouent aux crochets
Les JF lancent le ball comme un JH Les JH faisent virent le mallet comme une JF
Un chien les regarde currieusement
Les arbres n'aient aucun interest.
Les JF retournent les gaunts aur JH
Les JH sont touts occupes avec leurs match
No magic ab solution (09/08/99)
backroad gatineau wanderings while lewis played soccer
There seems to be
No magic
And it hurts.
Those expectations grew
Untested by some truths -
They're mine to hold
And measure by
To wisely use
And then discard
From time to time
There seems to be
No absolutes.
Faith in the signs (09/08/99)
Just go until
There is an intersection -
And make a choice.
You may choose
To inquire first
Or take a chance
Or steal a glance
At maps or signs
Or close your eyes
And trust the times
You've gone on faith
In some direction.
Paddadling (09/08/99)
I came across
A country road
Meandering back and forth
Across a stream
Of childhood canoe exploits.
Too shallow for a boat of boys.
If this was his father (30/08/99)
popped a few of something and then checked out the inflight movie without sound
Pig corpse across the shoulder
enters flashlite galley.
While widow taps the pane.
Uniformed teen smokers don't complain
One wants to track him down
thru poker alley.
Fortune teller claps the rain.
Anxious father feels no pain.
Ditch digger soils his suit
in cowpie valley.
Herder sweats red freckle smile.
Slippery cycle spins a mile.
Shadows smoother stonehedge bride
As pastor rails the tally.
Chickens scramble in ten speed wake.
Mother woes them with a cake.
Donkey respects the ride
While lovers dally.
Dance hall smokes along the tiles.
Father waltzes for a while.
Missed Calling (08/12/98)
got home heard
you called
and alexa too
"daddy i'm at X's house
wonderin' ?where are you"
one's in bed
the other
not yet tired
both are missed
both are love
inspired.
If Not - I Do (08/12/98)
I stepped out on the glacier -
invisible peaks miles above.
Calmly anticipating. Patient.
Next time it might melt -
?do i risk the step
Or stay home flower tender -
trimming, firming, mingling
among my green pets.
Someday they'll die -
?do i dare the cry
the sky has cleared
it might not rain
i'll venture shopping
staples starched ?say
where's the list -
?do i know the name
If not i'll take the blame
A MOON FOR EACH OF INFINITiES CASES (08/12/98)
discovered some yearsback sunset sketches from dharamsala - just enough info to bring back the memory
I numbered the sky
Gave it a page
Sketched some limits
Coded each space
I returned to that spot
To capture again
A few seconds more
Of infinities place
I compared one and two
I study them still
For reflections of wisdom
Two moons of my face
Humbly now - check!
My feet on the ground
But I get the best pictures
If I stand on a case.
Approved Dining (27/12/98)
"I can't believe I agree
to lunch with kids."
But she did
For him
And we approved.
For what its worth
There is a price
I put on approval
Like Mom of Meg
Alexa too, I'll have her say
How her mom and sibs
Have struck a deal
To split the work
Even Linnie though
They haven't met
She knows my joy
We dine with kids.
George Washington in profile (06/08/98)
Hot curry stomach resting
Fuzzy antlered baby deer
Lupin inhaling marmots
Two from the geologists mold
Patience isn't my virtue hiker.
Nalgene bouquet
Strawberry boots
Sponge incense holder
Starting over fears
Closing time (07/08/98) - thanks gail
There's always tears at closing time
And pain behind the door
All the cheers we had together
Now the promise of no more.
Respect those tears
Embrace that pain
Fire that anger
Neglect to aim
Stand naked in the rain …
Close that door together now
Quiet, wonder, remember how
Life loved our brighter days
Better guide our parted ways.
Subduing ticket angst in the phil zone (21/09/99)
For vancouer sun city editor and big grateful dead fan graham rockingham ... who expressed some anxiety about the security of our just procurred tickets to see the san francisco phil lesh and friends shows in october '99 - he left toronto '76 "Who are you" tickets on a restaurent table and still shivers.
A LARGE valium
might be the one
or a touch a whiskey
could get it done
a little grapefruit
diet spun
or sip a bean
or just be seen
in the phil zone
Wakefield Mute (meg barker)
Nudging mists, spin half moon around
main street right in the river, left in the town
What new antique did James dig up?
O'Corcoran's fruit wagon...? Or Lemay's tire rack?
Sandy's long asleep, pepperoni ordered for Thursday,
Poet's corner moving across the water.
The lanterns twinkle.
Martin catches "the chaser", red-blue sirens scream light but no noise on the bridge.
A new silver roof catches the moonbeams from the curve of the driveway.
Fluffy fleabane lines the curve. Even Oliver is silent as he jumps in glee.
The Habit of my Drinking (22/09/99)
Its been a month since summer
and still I'm sipping beer.
Though then I slurped from time to time
it helps to quench the thirst i find.
And then forget it puts to sleep
my dick my brain don't look to far
Though then I moved from place to place
It helps to tame the hounds I face
Soon I'll be dryer
as I aspire
Though I'll need to wire
up somehow.
Some other diet may inspire
May help me watch my mind inquire
Sometimes it's hard to hear (mb)
"Some other diet may inspire
May help me watch my mind inquire"
Or my mind may inquire which does to diet thus inquire.
Thus my diet may inquire fish and tea and grassy things.
To ease the flow twixt query and rings.
And such rings as there may be
Will make facile the thoughts that be.
Summoned thoughts fill the soul
Filling up the wells (and hole)
Where once so happily did freely pour
the booze now so hard to get down there.
tags and frames are not to blame (25/09/99)
sent this inqiury to my three computer resource people
it came to me in a bad dream -
"frames generally don't get metataged.
its just the master page - the frame set
- what was it that larry said ...???... I tried ..."
anyway - estimados senores - is it true?
it seems to me that in order to tag each frame
- say a set of different product specs, or project reports -
a unique frame set for each would be required ... Or so they claim.
i know i'm letting this erupt on the weekend - but summer had no such stain.
Contemplating a pill (09/29/99)
i'm getting a message from my brain
about my dick
its time to pick
up
the place i'm in
and sport another pair of shorts
if i turn them
inside out
or just rotate
that's four new roles
to contemplate
you may not be with me
until you're fifty
likely never
but if you call
I'll tell you all
i know
about N.O.
sitting from time to door (09/30/99)
last nite another of my homelessness dreams - later in my mind to the possibilities of "home" ...
i've got a chance to move -
as always -
but with the big twist -
love and work together.
i'll plan to house sit -
as before -
move in and out from time
to time from door to door
I don't want to choose -
as expected.
Still believe "here and there"
are both workable.
I'll put up the ads nonetheless -
as insurance
that i get myself
the best view.
ACT II (meg barker 09/10/99)
Last year's fashion show didn't go unnoticed;
Petticoats tranced in red, gold, green;
Gauzy drapes of misted grey, night mysteries being laid to rest, before
Lifting at sun-up for the marching of the Birch: a glitter of loud white posts,
Yelling for attention from the crowded audience; the pines can afford to be patient.
Have I failed, this year, to see a drama?
A shadow in the darkness, an ache in the heart,
A wolf in the woods? Owls perch far from their roosts, peering silently,
expecting me to hear. The lamb bites.
Heedless, soundless, sun and water scheme the next show. Lights, curtain, ACTION.
events for another week (meg barker 99/10/14)
Muse or goblin,
I don't know,
what does it matter,
they've got me low.
Mess in the kitchen
mess in the hall,
today was the day,
to clean them all.
But down in the basement,
nary on but a pump,
fuse box exploded,
gave me a THUMP.
Now no water,
now no heat,
what did I do,
to deserve this treat?
Tears in the first place,
kleenex came next,
lists after that
so..no longer perplex't.
So lists have their uses,
and I could be quite wrong,
poems come at any time,
but best when I'm strong.
Two tunes penned in for Thursday (110999), Wahl
The commander wrote me
>a poetic invite to coffee
and I had to reply
>Come for breakfast
and eat alot
>Stay for lunch
and get real hot
>or meet half-way
and smoke some pot
>and drink a bunch
or maybe not
>sometimes it's hot
when its raining
>and others cold
but refraining from
>coffee any way
at the end of the day
>just not old
just not in the way
either
>whiskey aye
verted
>or whiskey nay
bourly imparted
>it's up to you
or me
or we
>wha-d-ya-say
Copyright Notice © 1999 Meg Barker, Wahl and Peter Gillies
Time for a thought that would be there
Spring '99]
Inspiration: some friends died, others remembered, new ones born. i spent much time thinking about my daugther
missing sentiment (MEG BARKER)
Up the road, down the road
one kid there, one kid near,
if time for a thought
it would be here....
From Mean To need (04/04/99)
mean what you need to say –
a parable if you please
need what you mean to say –
a prophet if you lose
say what you mean to need –
a pleasure if you tease
say what you need to mean –
a portrait if you choose
Up and Blood (04/04/99)
If I take the pulse and
Find its up and blood is too.
I’m likely getting angry
Is there something I can do
Some words are comin’ out to
Defend, revenge, refute, deny.
Can I check it, second guess it
Can I look you in the eye
And see the voice I’m angry at
That rings this phone and wires me up
That sounds me out and pumps this heart
From miles apart extends a cup
Of tea – some spice a little milk.
Too sweet – yet subtle as an alibi.
You’re somewhere else beside yourself
Together looking in my eye
You take the pulse and mind it up
Then quiet, silent, deadly SPACE
Just let it sit, reflect itself
In singing lines across your face.
Minding the Store
He forgets his milk container refund money
And she runs out after him to return it
And he turns over the juice jar he has shoplifted.
Just among the pots and pans
You were small enough
for a milk crate.
That home you dragged
From room to room.
Among the pots and pans
Just liberated from their shelves.
Pictures of you frowning
by the front gate
between two pumpkins –
an anxious fairy.
Among the pirates and princesses
Just settled in their scene.
You were a child
With a big wait
Before the choices came
The hard of choosing
Among the places and parts
Just landed in your lap
Pictures of a woman
Like your mother
That smile you wear
From ear to ear
Among the plots and plans
Jest calling.
Taturlly
often mistaken for a stumble
but not fallen
the taturl remains humble
thru the callin'
sniffin like a bumble
in the pollen
Bright Grey (for Margaret - dedicated to John O'Callaghan)
The day appears -
Thick or thin
High or low.
There's clouds up there
But I don't know
Where they will blow
The day reveals -
Soft or skin
Fast or slow.
There's tunes out there
I need to know
What time's the show
The day assures -
Soft or sharp
Friend or foe.
There's pain in there
When will I know
Who's gonna show.
The day resides.
The pain describes.
The tunes decide...
The clouds up there
Don't need to know
Before I go.
More than a day’s sword (remembering dave mckelvey) (04/04/99)
Some promises last more than one day -
Bright green morning the beds
Were dry.
I can’t remember ever checking
But it seems like time
To water.
More steel than a sword -
The north shore lions reflect
In her window.
Slave the giant cranes
And load the ships
To sea.
More home than a tent -
Six months of winter pansies
Bloom.
Danced an opportunity
To waltz the wind
To earth.
Thankful Illusion (mge3 barker)
in orbit the mind
lurchs to various poles
as the sun and moon
veer around the earth
and the wind whistles
an intemperate word
through the cottage
so thankfully pinned
by a consistent gravity
unwinding the illusion of effect
Reflections on Cool Perfections (bali ’95)
Brown beach boys
And black sand
All sparkle in the sun
Reflections run
Across the pool
We sit in cool perfection
Sipping skipping thoughts
Over shinny surfaces
Catching vibes
From distant lives
And then
As the sun goes down
As it must
We trust
The day to end
As once begun
Cool, calm, quiet
Despite the dogs and cocks and
Round and round to midnight talks
Then we are out!
How much each day
Has liked the last
This week in paradise.
Figure On Lingering (12/04/99)
Carried for two weeks now
this pain.
In my upper back -
piggied on
sore swollen throat flew –
Energyless.
Space to stare out over
city escapes.
Blossom cherries can’t attack
or figure on
bird bee winged cry
Echoless.
Spinach talk with pansy air
a nest provides.
A sunset chai to crack
and linger on
pen prosed word why’s
Expressionless
True or Clues (12/04/99)
I didn’t read the news today
It’s newer here
More timely
?Say
More finely
It’s truer here
I didn’t need the clues today
Precious Portents (meg barker)
a gentle caress
a furrowed brow
a sombre reflection
a path of salt
a flush of heat
a lusty scent
eager fingers
delighted tongue
a spirit's kiss
a blue-edged soar
wise peace of the spruce
ancient granite knowledge
translucent, pearlized, floating gossamer wings
for as long as this day,
and only this glorious day,
lasts.
Word promises. Life delivers.
Wait for the Dalmatian spots (22/04/99)
Across the Drive
Down the hill
Not steep
But falling
Into towers
On the horizon.
I came from downtown
Almost everyday
Peddling hard
Why hurry
Thru the hours
Of a sunset.
A quiet coffee
A friend might interrupt
My reflection
Why worry.
Catch the flowers
In the parade.
So much budding.
A mind could slip up
Counting Dalmatian spots -
Cherry blossoms fallen.
Too early.
Wait for now, or.
not (too) afraid to look at the fear (22/04/99)
?WHAT am I afraid of
Afraid of getting too much in love,
making the wrong choice,
getting hurt.
Afraid of growing bored,
getting restless.
Afraid of the power
of one day's emotion.
Afraid of not having a home.
?WHERE does it hurt
An attack of anxiety
a sudden desperation.
"It's not fair
I don't treat you like that."
Occasional envy
- a friend reports from Asia.
LOOKING more closely at the where it hurts
The anxiety attacks are quite profound
sweaty panic and brain confusion.
Usually accompanied by an unscientific review
- of "the facts."
The judgemental outbursts seem so unlike me... but.
Usually there is a long buildup
an internal dialogue about the other person "problem"
and my needing to be tolerant
and understanding
and then BOOM
"you've crossed the line."
My limit is SO sacrosanct.
I raise my voice sanctimoniously.
In Feb. I was in Victoria
included in the Dave rocking was a late nite viewing of spring '98 video highlites of "Streets of Delhi."
Very hot.
And then "Tibetan New Year Snow Storms in Dharamsala."
Talk of the next expedition.
Wondering how.
Fear that the opportunity might be lost.
Happy as the slide is frequent (thanks Wendy)
She's happy among
frequent playground slides
and dug-up earthworms
in the renamed world
of her little mudpie angel.
Spitting out sentences
is such a wonderful place to be..
Some room to improve your karma (13/05/99)
How did this happen? I left the doctors office with a diagnosis of severe hypertension of the middle finger and wrote the last verse of this poem and then started searching for images from the scene of the injury - the recent hiking trip on the Juan de Fuca trail - and they came out as verses 3 then 2 then 1
At the trailhead for an hour
Midday monsoon running late
Mixes mud and slides our footprints
Begs us to reduce our weight -
gives us room to move.
Up and down a 100 metres
Every kilometre for ten
Push the thighs to wondering
When the pain will end -
anticipates the groove.
Pondering isolation picking
Patrons in Port Renfrew's pub
Imagine west coast eco-tourists
Flocking thru this hub -
their karma to improve.
Librate the big joint
Try on half a splint
Keep those digits loosened
Give myself the hint -
repeat a subtle move.
Decisions
Its wet
and if I step outside I’ll be there
Not here
Only two of the choices
I must make one
Or more
But not waiver
There is a time for ambigue
A place by itself.
Its warm
in here and if I stay
or go
?is it different
I can give decide.
There is still time.
The Queens of E-Conferencing
Meg enters the chatroom
A trumpet declares
Sounding footsteps and epaulettes
And some discourse in pairs.
Or even greater the number
Of con frencers could be
If they entered the chatroom
With minds set on “free
For chat”, or “available”
No “extended away”s
Nor “awaiting authorization”s
Just a literal gaze
Meg’s inside the chatroom
It’s only a phase.
Horizon on the Wall (23/05/99)
Britannia School playing field
big sky crowded with
whiney "I'm bleeding" child and
Dizzy the dog ignoring the call to heel and
idle badminton team drumming on the steel fence so ...
I relocate to the 50 yard line
Don't read on
just yet ...
Just listen ...............
Trains shuttle - and bang.
Clark Drive rumbles.
Distant hoops fall.
Farther Lions call.
And then a plane of birdsong sweeps
Bicycle clicking circles creeps
Young lovers talking small.
Horizon on the wall.
Quiet green grass humbles.
Expectations rise -
and hang.
Once again faulty Saturday evening logic (23/05/99)
"I wanted to see you.
It was for me" -
My teary retraction of
"No sleepover tonight
because you've got school"
?Did she see thru my faulty Saturday night logic
Before calling up
and asking a second time
?Did she sense
the sadness of
onceagainmoving
"I check my email
every morning" she informs
so perhaps I'll keep her
close electronically
the Margaret courting way.
?Did she see the spinning her lines poet
Combing the landscape
for an arbitrary rhyme
?Did she sense
the madness of
aloneagainmorning
Tough call (meg barker)(25/05/99)
Competing with the bumblebee,
not much larger
but with a longer life horizon and a song.
No stinger,
but a thin, long, fluted beak the better to siphon sweetness
and whistle with.
A bright red collar on a teal green coat,
smooth and enticing to the crow's eye,
the bauble snatcher.
But decked out and ducking,
humming and whirling,
this jewel too tough, too small, too loud
for dinner.
Insolent, innocent? Brilliant.
Brillantly, stubbornly alive.
Sunflowers in the Goal Crease (07/06/99)
A small patch of buttercups
you couldn't churn.
Puddles in the goal crease
feed the crows.
Bonsais echo bench's whisper
to a big sky.
The children swinging sandy shoes -
their parents learn.
A fast ball is served
and not returned.
Sunflowers in the garden plots
heed the hose.
Poodles challenge robin's whistle
for a fly by.
Grandparents scolding silent sins -
their freedom earned.
afloat in pleated garbardines (17/11/98)
black, red or blonde
as the brown body curls
the hilton will be protected
amid old and busy new, flip outside,
scaffolding up a thousand cement cities
of middle-aged white women dapper black men
in pleated garbardines from wooden sidewalk suitcases
once beautiful roads of mosaic brick, rock and tile -
now scarcely noticed.
garbage floats.
Copyright Notice © 1999 Margaret Barker and Peter Gillies
missing sentiment (MEG BARKER)
Up the road, down the road
one kid there, one kid near,
if time for a thought
it would be here....
From Mean To need (04/04/99)
mean what you need to say –
a parable if you please
need what you mean to say –
a prophet if you lose
say what you mean to need –
a pleasure if you tease
say what you need to mean –
a portrait if you choose
Up and Blood (04/04/99)
If I take the pulse and
Find its up and blood is too.
I’m likely getting angry
Is there something I can do
Some words are comin’ out to
Defend, revenge, refute, deny.
Can I check it, second guess it
Can I look you in the eye
And see the voice I’m angry at
That rings this phone and wires me up
That sounds me out and pumps this heart
From miles apart extends a cup
Of tea – some spice a little milk.
Too sweet – yet subtle as an alibi.
You’re somewhere else beside yourself
Together looking in my eye
You take the pulse and mind it up
Then quiet, silent, deadly SPACE
Just let it sit, reflect itself
In singing lines across your face.
Minding the Store
He forgets his milk container refund money
And she runs out after him to return it
And he turns over the juice jar he has shoplifted.
Just among the pots and pans
You were small enough
for a milk crate.
That home you dragged
From room to room.
Among the pots and pans
Just liberated from their shelves.
Pictures of you frowning
by the front gate
between two pumpkins –
an anxious fairy.
Among the pirates and princesses
Just settled in their scene.
You were a child
With a big wait
Before the choices came
The hard of choosing
Among the places and parts
Just landed in your lap
Pictures of a woman
Like your mother
That smile you wear
From ear to ear
Among the plots and plans
Jest calling.
Taturlly
often mistaken for a stumble
but not fallen
the taturl remains humble
thru the callin'
sniffin like a bumble
in the pollen
Bright Grey (for Margaret - dedicated to John O'Callaghan)
The day appears -
Thick or thin
High or low.
There's clouds up there
But I don't know
Where they will blow
The day reveals -
Soft or skin
Fast or slow.
There's tunes out there
I need to know
What time's the show
The day assures -
Soft or sharp
Friend or foe.
There's pain in there
When will I know
Who's gonna show.
The day resides.
The pain describes.
The tunes decide...
The clouds up there
Don't need to know
Before I go.
More than a day’s sword (remembering dave mckelvey) (04/04/99)
Some promises last more than one day -
Bright green morning the beds
Were dry.
I can’t remember ever checking
But it seems like time
To water.
More steel than a sword -
The north shore lions reflect
In her window.
Slave the giant cranes
And load the ships
To sea.
More home than a tent -
Six months of winter pansies
Bloom.
Danced an opportunity
To waltz the wind
To earth.
Thankful Illusion (mge3 barker)
in orbit the mind
lurchs to various poles
as the sun and moon
veer around the earth
and the wind whistles
an intemperate word
through the cottage
so thankfully pinned
by a consistent gravity
unwinding the illusion of effect
Reflections on Cool Perfections (bali ’95)
Brown beach boys
And black sand
All sparkle in the sun
Reflections run
Across the pool
We sit in cool perfection
Sipping skipping thoughts
Over shinny surfaces
Catching vibes
From distant lives
And then
As the sun goes down
As it must
We trust
The day to end
As once begun
Cool, calm, quiet
Despite the dogs and cocks and
Round and round to midnight talks
Then we are out!
How much each day
Has liked the last
This week in paradise.
Figure On Lingering (12/04/99)
Carried for two weeks now
this pain.
In my upper back -
piggied on
sore swollen throat flew –
Energyless.
Space to stare out over
city escapes.
Blossom cherries can’t attack
or figure on
bird bee winged cry
Echoless.
Spinach talk with pansy air
a nest provides.
A sunset chai to crack
and linger on
pen prosed word why’s
Expressionless
True or Clues (12/04/99)
I didn’t read the news today
It’s newer here
More timely
?Say
More finely
It’s truer here
I didn’t need the clues today
Precious Portents (meg barker)
a gentle caress
a furrowed brow
a sombre reflection
a path of salt
a flush of heat
a lusty scent
eager fingers
delighted tongue
a spirit's kiss
a blue-edged soar
wise peace of the spruce
ancient granite knowledge
translucent, pearlized, floating gossamer wings
for as long as this day,
and only this glorious day,
lasts.
Word promises. Life delivers.
Wait for the Dalmatian spots (22/04/99)
Across the Drive
Down the hill
Not steep
But falling
Into towers
On the horizon.
I came from downtown
Almost everyday
Peddling hard
Why hurry
Thru the hours
Of a sunset.
A quiet coffee
A friend might interrupt
My reflection
Why worry.
Catch the flowers
In the parade.
So much budding.
A mind could slip up
Counting Dalmatian spots -
Cherry blossoms fallen.
Too early.
Wait for now, or.
not (too) afraid to look at the fear (22/04/99)
?WHAT am I afraid of
Afraid of getting too much in love,
making the wrong choice,
getting hurt.
Afraid of growing bored,
getting restless.
Afraid of the power
of one day's emotion.
Afraid of not having a home.
?WHERE does it hurt
An attack of anxiety
a sudden desperation.
"It's not fair
I don't treat you like that."
Occasional envy
- a friend reports from Asia.
LOOKING more closely at the where it hurts
The anxiety attacks are quite profound
sweaty panic and brain confusion.
Usually accompanied by an unscientific review
- of "the facts."
The judgemental outbursts seem so unlike me... but.
Usually there is a long buildup
an internal dialogue about the other person "problem"
and my needing to be tolerant
and understanding
and then BOOM
"you've crossed the line."
My limit is SO sacrosanct.
I raise my voice sanctimoniously.
In Feb. I was in Victoria
included in the Dave rocking was a late nite viewing of spring '98 video highlites of "Streets of Delhi."
Very hot.
And then "Tibetan New Year Snow Storms in Dharamsala."
Talk of the next expedition.
Wondering how.
Fear that the opportunity might be lost.
Happy as the slide is frequent (thanks Wendy)
She's happy among
frequent playground slides
and dug-up earthworms
in the renamed world
of her little mudpie angel.
Spitting out sentences
is such a wonderful place to be..
Some room to improve your karma (13/05/99)
How did this happen? I left the doctors office with a diagnosis of severe hypertension of the middle finger and wrote the last verse of this poem and then started searching for images from the scene of the injury - the recent hiking trip on the Juan de Fuca trail - and they came out as verses 3 then 2 then 1
At the trailhead for an hour
Midday monsoon running late
Mixes mud and slides our footprints
Begs us to reduce our weight -
gives us room to move.
Up and down a 100 metres
Every kilometre for ten
Push the thighs to wondering
When the pain will end -
anticipates the groove.
Pondering isolation picking
Patrons in Port Renfrew's pub
Imagine west coast eco-tourists
Flocking thru this hub -
their karma to improve.
Librate the big joint
Try on half a splint
Keep those digits loosened
Give myself the hint -
repeat a subtle move.
Decisions
Its wet
and if I step outside I’ll be there
Not here
Only two of the choices
I must make one
Or more
But not waiver
There is a time for ambigue
A place by itself.
Its warm
in here and if I stay
or go
?is it different
I can give decide.
There is still time.
The Queens of E-Conferencing
Meg enters the chatroom
A trumpet declares
Sounding footsteps and epaulettes
And some discourse in pairs.
Or even greater the number
Of con frencers could be
If they entered the chatroom
With minds set on “free
For chat”, or “available”
No “extended away”s
Nor “awaiting authorization”s
Just a literal gaze
Meg’s inside the chatroom
It’s only a phase.
Horizon on the Wall (23/05/99)
Britannia School playing field
big sky crowded with
whiney "I'm bleeding" child and
Dizzy the dog ignoring the call to heel and
idle badminton team drumming on the steel fence so ...
I relocate to the 50 yard line
Don't read on
just yet ...
Just listen ...............
Trains shuttle - and bang.
Clark Drive rumbles.
Distant hoops fall.
Farther Lions call.
And then a plane of birdsong sweeps
Bicycle clicking circles creeps
Young lovers talking small.
Horizon on the wall.
Quiet green grass humbles.
Expectations rise -
and hang.
Once again faulty Saturday evening logic (23/05/99)
"I wanted to see you.
It was for me" -
My teary retraction of
"No sleepover tonight
because you've got school"
?Did she see thru my faulty Saturday night logic
Before calling up
and asking a second time
?Did she sense
the sadness of
onceagainmoving
"I check my email
every morning" she informs
so perhaps I'll keep her
close electronically
the Margaret courting way.
?Did she see the spinning her lines poet
Combing the landscape
for an arbitrary rhyme
?Did she sense
the madness of
aloneagainmorning
Tough call (meg barker)(25/05/99)
Competing with the bumblebee,
not much larger
but with a longer life horizon and a song.
No stinger,
but a thin, long, fluted beak the better to siphon sweetness
and whistle with.
A bright red collar on a teal green coat,
smooth and enticing to the crow's eye,
the bauble snatcher.
But decked out and ducking,
humming and whirling,
this jewel too tough, too small, too loud
for dinner.
Insolent, innocent? Brilliant.
Brillantly, stubbornly alive.
Sunflowers in the Goal Crease (07/06/99)
A small patch of buttercups
you couldn't churn.
Puddles in the goal crease
feed the crows.
Bonsais echo bench's whisper
to a big sky.
The children swinging sandy shoes -
their parents learn.
A fast ball is served
and not returned.
Sunflowers in the garden plots
heed the hose.
Poodles challenge robin's whistle
for a fly by.
Grandparents scolding silent sins -
their freedom earned.
afloat in pleated garbardines (17/11/98)
black, red or blonde
as the brown body curls
the hilton will be protected
amid old and busy new, flip outside,
scaffolding up a thousand cement cities
of middle-aged white women dapper black men
in pleated garbardines from wooden sidewalk suitcases
once beautiful roads of mosaic brick, rock and tile -
now scarcely noticed.
garbage floats.
Copyright Notice © 1999 Margaret Barker and Peter Gillies
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