"There's only room for one I guess" - winter '00

Inspiration: my uncle died - i learned so much about keeping ones eyes open for opportunites to help - thanks Fred

Kept close
(for Linney at the time of Fred's death) (12/03/00)

I wasn't there but
you kept me close
with some stories
of the talk

As he lay dying.

"Don't feel guilty if
you fall asleep
in the middle of the night
and he's gone."

I jumped with fear
every time the phone rang
and when it did
I wanted you to say

How hard he was trying.

(But he wasn't leaving)
That double bed
he loved so much
(will sure feel empty now).

Holding hands and
watching the colour disappear
they marvelled that he didn't
look like Fred anymore

And shared some crying.

He's up there now
with our other dad -
who's showing him the ropes,
and catching up.

The solutions of "Mr. St. Phillips" (18/03/00)
Uncle Fred was a problem solver respected by many folks - the congregation at St. Phillips Lutheran Church has a special appreciation for him. I was treated to many new Fred stories in the precious days after his death on March 12th 2000.

There's only room for one
I'd guess.
He set the standard -
?who'll write the test.

For problem solvers
great and small
he left some tips
for us to call.

Like "Open up the box
enough,
and pretty soon it won't be
tough"

Or "Let's get to the
point -
but not out of
joint"

It doesn't matter how
you knew him -
give him the pieces
he could glue 'em

He'll always be "Mr. St. Phillips"
to some -
with sliderule and blueprints and many tunes
to hum.

Everytime we ask "?what can I do
for you",
he'll probably smile and give us
a clue.

Reasonable Questions (20/03/00)

?What's it like to be dead
- how does one communicate.
?Are there any reasonable questions.

So try some answers
- you'll hear them often.
?Are there any you can't live with.

?Can you live without them
- where's that old wish list.
?Are there any hiding places.

You shine too brightly
- but I've no trouble sleeping.
?Are there any reasonable questions
about what its like to be dead.

Explanations at 24 below (13/01/00 mb)

throw out
toss in
add to the pile
or reduce it
explain what you mean
the audience doesn't get it
get what?
get the point
get the drift
get on board
its windy and rolling but it rocks.

I miss you (11/01/00)

loved your last laugh on the keyboard.
time to come home girl -
and don't stop prattling.

gifts (11/01/00)

loved the ginger tea.
bathed in splendor-
then snowplowed downtown.

new attitude year (03/01/00)

gotta work today
- don't have the attitude
- wanna ski
- or just be free
to cop black beans
or brew some tea

Our answer (20/01/00)

life feels hard.
softness hovers.
rain melts
the snow.

More answers (21/01/00)

Words are big.
Emotions charge.
Dawn lites
another path.

Some questions (23/01/00)

life is not simple.
questions are omnipresent.
kiss the fire
to melt the ice.

We learn (22/01/00)

Intercourse was "incredible"
With a former man.
Maybe they learned to cum
and wonder together.
She learns a lot and
When she writes it down
It's sometimes easier
To see what's true.

I like to be on top
And yet, I would submit,
That's only one of many axis'
Which connect us.
Only one of many "psychic barriers"
To freedom of expression.
Perhaps I started at the head
too young, and get my way.

We all have deadlines
To relax,
And minds to change
With poems that we inspire.
I think the world is ready
Or I am different -
Yet consistently aware
I still need to know a little more

few regrets (18/01/00)

it could be about our sex -
Both yours and mine.
Different paths to here
help to fuel a fear
of no convergence.

the emergence of an identity -
Between single and coupled
straight and gay
top and bottom.
Multiple paths to trace
help to show the face
of no prejudice.

seduced by where we are -
below cohabitation and incorporation.
Various paths to lay
help to charge the day
with no consequences.

fences may be built
beside rivers and roads.
Several paths to define
several shadows to design
several rungs to climb
help to decide the time
of no regrets.

Carelessness of the studied kind (mb 31/01/00)

"Take care…"
Words thrown, woodenly, coolly, at the bottom of the page.
"Take care…," my colleague. My client, or friend,
whoever you are, wherever you are, Guyana, Peru or somewhere.

Stiffness is not an adjective that suits you, so,
it hurts when it comes on.

Exclusion is not a noun that fits me, it is a noun that haunts,
that hovers, that waits to draw me into a deep
soundless cavern with only
ancient
wet
cold
trickles
of the same fear down my back.

"Why the demands?" of a love that expects a lot.
"Acceptance, tolerance, anti-phobias, that's what love should be."
Love, after all, is a
Social Phenomenon.
There are many ways to live:
Let us be Cool.

Love is a verb that we use to describe us.
To love:
To desire, to share, to hold, to stroke, to praise.
To kiss, to adore, to lick, to respect, to support.
To delight, to clasp, to remind, to advise, to fuck.
To feed, to rub, to enlighten. To bathe, to touch, to engage.
To be there.

To hold our world together. To argue, to debate, to
cover the rough ground two feet by two feet. To hold hands
on the perilous bridge of
frayed ropes,
broken dreams,
false promises,
youthful illusions.

To not let go.
To not exclude.
To not inspect, like a museum artifact, these quaint ideas,
these odd notions, these tantric aspirations, like queer knocks outside the door.

To be there.
To play, to cry, to explain, to share.
To confound, to whisper, to caress. In
Guyana, Peru or somewhere

Hands held on the perilous bridge (31/01/00)

lovely your words
like hands held
or lips sealed.

a now touch
a future promise
a confound whisper to caress.

A chance at 47 (31/01/00)

Finally made it to 47.
It's a long time by any math
It's a long line on any path,
And not far short of heaven.

(Where)
I've been peaceful for a while.
There's a right way to view the years
There's a right day to let the tears,
And dress them up in style.

(Though)
It's not a suit she seeks.
We are aware of pain and beauty
We are a pair of sense and duty,
And fragile when life leaks

(of which)
there always is a chance.

Qwestion (03/02/00)

"?why" is a big one -
and hard to answer.
"?what" comes from experience -
some new some old.
"?who" i use alot -
it gives me good results.
"?when" shows my impatience -
or efficiency.
there's hardly a deficiency

Goodnite (04/02/00)

income tax is done - not too big a hit.
music to come - lots of big hits -
and a bomber too.
?how are you

Expecting? (07/02/00)

ahhh phone problems
sometimes they keep the house
so nice and quite
but only if you are expecting
a call

Slow Expectations (09/02/00)

i walked home in the dark
to an empty house,
and no message
from you.

i wandered around the pages
of a needy proposal,
with no imagination
nor clue

to the whereabouts of the days
invested in a lonely heart,
with slow expectation
but true

to the wording in the places
inscripted with a curious voice,
and a laugh,
or two

reflection (05/03/00)

on A wealth of clients and colleagues -
With remarkable failings
Hence remarkable failures
Yet not evil.

A close family -
Mom margaret linney and lex
We did the five last summer
Everybody prospering
On their own terms.

Being alone - the choice to live solo
Scares me sometimes with the
Too familiar ground of
grapefruits, self sex and guitar music.

being with myself - the growing old body
no longer a friend of my youth
now a partner in practical living -
oh it feels so good
to stretch a tired muscle
and feel it warm my flesh

unfolding the past - the occasionally pushed
hot button which pulls me in
sometimes I gotta walk out
and sing real loud -
its been so long waiting

not knowing but trusting
not 100% but
with more rationale intuition -
there are facts to look at
and sow in my field of emotion.

As of this writing (06/03/00)

There is no explicit action
in the writing of this poem -
and I often change my mind
about its value, or lack of.

!That's a theme for celebration -
the back and forth,
no serial monogamy of opinion
to dig the heels in deeper.

Yet I want to get ahead -
not dollars or fame -
rather wisdom
charting new roads,
fresh puzzles, sad stories ...

?How will I tell them.
As action, valued in the
writing of this poem.

No lack of changed mind.

Small consolations (06/03/00 mb)

A new notebook,
a "Discovery" program on why
flamingos court in front of a mirror
but not in the yard

A precious poem
Extra bagels to be eaten with
No hat on the table
A thought or two.

Hardly compares with a hand in mine and thigh entwined.
Sore comfort in knowing that there are two that pine.
One that dines
Other that finds
No worthy prose in the failing night mind.

Out of the sky's reach (07/03/00)

Marvelling at how close
Your voice sounds
Could take many turns -
Your words will persuade.

Or sedate - seeming up there
Out of reach in the
Policy sky.

Where I rarely float,
Preferring the green pastures
Of your landscape song.

A potential rejection (07/03/00)
On the eve of the ratification (or not) of a new contract between the east end food co-ops union staff and management.

Tonight they vote
to accept or not
Reset the scale
to cool or hot
Just cross the 't'
and "i' the dot
Leave us wondering
why we fought

large constellation of extra bagels (07/03/00 mb)

lovely timing, this one, this morning,
fell square on the brewing-brooding space between
four satellites, sight and sound tuned to the air
listening intently for a new whisper
trace of a perception
crystal thought that lands crisply and
oh so BRIGHT!

Tune, tune
soon
to
come my dear your ear to hear
something clear.

Some end of the day (23/03/00)

day finally over -
seemed awefully long
but well lived.

crossed many paths
and blazed a few -
to some end.

Desexing (04/04/00)

I had a heart attack today
An explosive pain of longing
For some particular sex.

I have been seeing it everywhere
And wanting it distractedly.

I want to change the metaphor -
See the couples as laughter or pain
The pretty people as smiles.

I could turn off the media
I could make you a saint
And chill my blood with ice.

Or let it cool alone -
With open eyes
and your kisses across the wire
gently stirring my love.

Aroused by duty (mb 03/03/00)

Opaque chill envelopes the morning, a pall in the half-light. Damp, thick
blanket obscures the emergent sky. But not for long. With it's chisel of
blaze and blade, sun creeps up from the East and peels, steadfastly,
determinedly, confidently at the grey armour, aroused by duty, by earth, by
the hard buds patiently waiting for life to begin.

?Where's the pleasure coming from (05/04/00)

We talked about shopping
Sexy underwear for you.
?How can i keep that image rich
without being driven to distraction.
Let it titillate and warm
Without my cock needing attention…
Keep the erotica in my head.

I want to be desired
For the moment, and then some.
?When will I stroke it
and decipher the connection
Set its weight between your checks
Without unnecessary introspection.
Reap the memory in its stead…

Your hands are so seductive
In their inquiry, asking
?What are we waiting for
there's no apparent confusion.
Wet it later on your lips
Without my spark tracing the illusion
Weep the distance we must tread.

Try the deep breath -
Clear a little space.
?Where's the pleasure coming from
with requires my reflection.
Bet it straight and narrow
Without further arbitration.
Sleep the image in my bed…

Challenging the keeper (05/04/00)

One of the challenges I love
Is figuring out
Where a good first verse
Should go…
And how to keep it suspenseful

Then something unfolds
Not as strong
Still directionless
But definitely a keeper.
The beginning of a poem

It starts to roll
With rules unfolding
In whose adhering
The reader goes
Not at all reassured
Of imminent repose

Et puis
Un poeme
The order of the verses
not so composed -
solved the problem
of finding the ending

Copyright Notice © 2000 Peter Gillies and Margaret Barker