Next Time

Next Time

the sex was good

but at this stage 

good wasn’t enough

I craved more than contact

<>

he certainly enjoyed 

the flesh on flesh

but not nearly as much

as he enjoyed the down low

the secret assignation

<> 

his exploration of excitement

of things his wife didn’t provide

I was his walk on the wild side

that made the cultural box

he felt he had no way of avoiding

bearable

<>

the sex was good

I was a non-threatening opportunity

that had nothing to do with me

as a person

as a spiritual entity

he only wanted the release

when he wanted it

<>

his travel here

often took longer

than we played together

play that was clearly more than good for him

but a vitally needed contact

<>

the sex was good

but for me

good wasn’t enough

I want desire

chemistry

there wasn’t enough chemistry 

for me to want more

not enough chemistry

to get an yen for him 

I knew enough about him

I didn’t care

<>

now to tell him

the next time he calls

and I know he will call

they always do

A guy I saw decades ago once joked ‘How long before I show up in one of your poems?’ He never did but he was aware that writers, poets in particular, often write about their lives – it is a way of processing our experiences & a way remembering them. I didn’t tell him that poetry is a fiction that reflects the truth without telling it – reflections are often distorted by the light, by time & the surface that sends back the reflection.

Some of my pieces are composites of real events that I’ve experienced or that friends had told me about. This is one of those composite pieces that reflects that balance between lust & opportunity. One would think with changes in cultural mores men (or women) wouldn’t feel so bound to fulfill the roles of husband or father but many still do.

Whether out of a sense of not letting down the folks, or maintaining their ethnic standards they find themselves in domestic relationship boxes – often though, as in the case of the married man here, he felt little conflict in maintaining two lives. He also enjoyed the ‘sneak’ of meeting up to spending time with me – overtime, going to the gym tonight, etc.

Things between us developed beyond this stage as we talked about our lives outside the bedroom. Not that he was going to leave the missus or anything stupid like that but a mutual fondness was strong. But fondness is no mask in these pandemic years. So I haven’t seen him in over year now; we email occasionally but, to be honest, if we never meet up again, life will go on. He’ll be a sweet memory not a heart ache. He texted that he’s had his vaccine so I know he’ll call.


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Picture Perfect 63

Picture Perfect 63

“Okay.” Baxter said. “Now that we are on the subject of the contract, it was agreed that you would freely share any relevant information you discovered in photo or document examination, or in your interrogations, I mean, interviews of the subjects as we arranged them.” He was reading directly from the contract as it appeared on everyone’s monitor screens.

“You have all the footage. I haven’t held anything back.”

“What about this.” It was a clip from his interview with Teresa. The point were camera was trying to get a close up of the photograph she had given Dan

“This is me not wanting to get sued for libel. I am to do reasonable diligence with any evidence I find. I’ll be doing more research on this Monday. You heard the conversation leading up to it didn’t you?”

“Of course that’s why we needed to get that photo on camera. It could be … a person of interest …”

“Baxter you watch too many of your own TV shows.” Dan said. “You know as well as I do, that if this is truly crucial you’ll be told and if it isn’t I can’t let you spin it to implicate someone with rumours from decades ago.”

“He’s right.” Stephanie said. “If this is of importance someone alive now may be harmed greatly if it isn’t handled correctly.”

“What do …” Baxter stopped. “This is what you .. see.”

“Yes.” Jennifer replied. “Mr. Baxter I realize I am just a … nod for your ratings. But you don’t need to believe in me for my abilities to work.” She left the war room.

“I guess I’ve been told.” Baxter said. “Inspector Warszawa perhaps you have some … warmer news from your end of things.”

“Warmer?” War said. “I don’t know about that. I do have to concur with Dan though about ascertaining the relevance of evidence. If you want what you’re doing to be taken seriously by the local law enforcement branches do what they would do as much as possible.”

“If we did what they did we’d have nothing to report on.”

“Point taken but trust Dan on his experience in the field. It’ll make your series that much more believable and powerful. Now that the cases have been officially reopened a task force has been put together to examine the information we already have. They expect Quintex’s full& open cooperation.”

“Even if what we discover doesn’t show them in a positive light.”

“Let’s face it.” Dan said. “They can’t afford to look any worse in the public eye. It’s the best way for them to rebuild public trust. I know investigative abilities  have changed greatly over the past decades.”

“Being called a faggot by an angry cop is still the same.” Baxter said. “And that happened to you less than a week ago.”

“He called me an asshole. But he did refer to you as a queer.”

“Captain MacKillop will be heading the task force. I’ve met with him and he’s on the ball.”

“We’ll get access to the RCMP files?” Stephanie asked.

“When they unearth them” Warszawa said. “MacKillop was surprised to find out how well they had been buried. Cases involving children are handled with greater attention these days. He’s also looking into that.”

“Once again the RCMP investigates itself.” Stephanie said.

“You can keep statements like that to yourself if you expect them to be at all cooperative.” Warszawa said. “Agreed?”

“Whatever.” Stephanie replied.

“I think we’re done here for today?” She looked to Baxter.

“Yes.”

Jennifer Devereaux was waiting beside Dan’s car. Cameron walked over the car. “I’ll be with you again today. Not that we have many others to choose from.” He joked. 

“Remote unit has gone ahead to Truro. This’ll be Helen Davis.” He glanced at his phone. “David McPherson’s aunt. Coordinated have been programmed into your cell already Captain Kirk.”

“Okay. Pile in.” Dan got behind the wheel. 

Jennifer sat in the front beside him. Cameron in the back seat.

“You knew Glaucia?” Dan asked.

“Yes. She had come to my mother many years ago.”

“Your mother?” Dan said.

“Jane Poitier.”

“From the Wickham?” Dan asked. “I though you looked familiar. Sarah must be your sister.”

“Yes, she the ordinary one. There’s a history of second sight in our family that goes back generations in various forms. It has never been the same in subsequent generations but it has always been. With each generation the need to hide has decreased. My mother was called to help others with their talents.”

“Glaucia came to your mother?’

“Yes, to be guided.”

“Like Hogwarts?” Cameron said.

“Nothing that spectacular.” Jennifer laughed. “My mother was more like a guidance councillor than a teacher. Which was what Glaucia was to me.”

“Why not your mother?”

“No, that would never work. Doctors don’t treat their own children, or least they shouldn’t. It is the same with sensitives. It is best when someone who isn’t blood encourages you. They prove be less … invested.”

“How much control do you have over your abilities?”

“It can vary. There are times when an … energy will hit me. There are times when I need to close my eyes and focus on what is around me. I know that if I see nothing it is because there is nothing to see, not that I am not trying hard enough.”

“I hate these set interviews.” Dan said.

“Set?” Jennifer asked. “Aren’t we talking to her in her home?”

“Yes and no. Baxter Bit stylists set the stage for us. Furniture gets moved around. Back grounds become crucial for ambience. When possible they like to help the guests look good too. Hair gets done.”

“What?”

“Oh yes. That’s why my interview with Teresa Dunlop was so good, for me. She called Stephanie in the morning to say where and there was no time to fix things beyond warning the diner we’d be there.”

“That explains the idiotic fringe purse!” Jennifer said.

“You watched it?”

“Some of it. Mr. Baxter said I should observe your style. Didn’t seem to be much style on your part. More like old friends meeting after years.”

“Which in a way it was.”

“What are you going to do about your sister and Kevin?”

“That’s not relevant, is it? Or did you sense something I didn’t.”

“Tread carefully. By the way I have to admire the way you totally ignored her calling you Danny Boy.”

“You picked up on that? She used to do that when I was a kid. Drove me crazy angry.”

“The MacPherson’s came across as fairly ordinary folk.” She tapped the folder of notes on her lap. “So does the Aunt.”

“So far they all have. The abductions were the major crisis in their lives. The fact that they went unconnected is the what makes them unique in an … entertaining way.”

“You’re not doing this for the entertainment value.”

“Oh no, the pay check isn’t bad.”

“There’s more to than that. More like seeking Dad’s approval.”

“You not seeking your Mom’s approval?”

“Excellent reversal. I didn’t see that coming.”

“That’ll put you in the frame of mind of the people we’ll be seeing. None of them saw what happened to them coming.”

They drove in silence for several miles.

When they got to the location Cameron got out first to follow them as they walked up to the house.

“Jennifer.” He stopped her at the bottom of front steps. “Stay focused on these people, on these cases. Our private lives are just that.”

“Sorry. It’s hard for me to block out everyone. If your father had anything to do with these cases I can’t help it.”

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Paper Ghosts

Thanks to the pandemic I’ve been purging my past. Papers, first drafts, photographs & memories. A basement full of lumber, bricks, paint, nut & bolts saved, salvaged, kept for another day now gone, with out regret. Stage set pieces from Bushwack Theatre finally seeing the light of day in the back of a junk removal truck 🙂 

I have seeing my history in the paper I used for writing on. Scrap paper recycled from Famous Players old daily multi-coloured sales report forms – pads of which became redundant as they were updated. Colour coded for filing & mailing purposes. Flyers for movies, for theatrical productions. Lined or blank loose leaf, pages torn out of scribblers, note book of various sizes & even shapes. Notes, poems, fiction typed on various typewriters, hand written in various inks & pens, dot-matrix print outs that had never been separated. https://topoet.ca/2021/03/16/past-of-the-future/

The ‘See Europe’ was one of several road show productions that travelled around the maritimes with special presentations – this was Travel, another was Alpine Skiing – the most popular was the in person show by Raveen – a hypnotist, magician – I wish I had some of those flyers. The travel shows weren’t big draws mind you but they were rentals – in this case Tony Smith was in charge of his ticket sales. We got the rental fee plus sold lots of popcorn 🙂

The various papers help date when some of these pieces were written as many of them were undated. The Famous pages are before I moved to Toronto in 1978. Days Of Heaven is from my first year here. The Famous Players form bring back memories beyond what I had written on the blank sides. One of my jobs there was to type details onto them. There was carbon paper between the pages that were 4 form thick so one had to hit hard to make sure the bottom one was legible. A mistake meant whiteout on all copies before re-entering. A total pain. Life before computers & data entry. 

This piece was typed on the blank side of a ‘Days Of Heaven’ flyer

My Left Hand

he gives me a call

a peace offering

an invitation

an offer

to nail my left hand

to the floor

but he has no camera

<>

he calls

on days

when his memory

is fading

the echo of the moon

in an old well

he speak

French threats

innuendos

of vague violence

I cannot resist

<>

I cannot confront

direct violence

I have a fear of pain

pain as in death

facts to face

I am afraid

I’ll enjoy the nail

relish each thud of the hammer

<>

I remember

the bite of his teeth

even when I cannot

recall the feel

of his lips

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Astral Van

I have been a Van Morrison fan since Moondance. Over the decades I have built a fairly complete collection, so large that I’m splitting it into two posts.  The first song of his I was familiar with was Gloria – though at the time I didn’t connect it with him. It was a cut on The Blues Magoos’ Electric Comic Book. 

His music journey has from from Irish garage-band rock with Them, to his early searching solo years after Astral Weeks, then Moondance, a return to traditional Irish, a transcendental mystic time of great spiritual discovery, to his present sense of looking back – even re-recording some of his early work. Each period has great work by this restless musical spirit.  

There are several books about him. I have read Astral Weeks: A Secret History of 1968 which is an excellent look at the pop scene of the time & his formative US years. Many of the songs it discusses are found on Bang Masters (67). I picked this up in February 1993. Brown Eyed Girl was his solo break-though. Mostly good solid soulful rock. The Bob Dylan inference shows on some tracks.

I have as mp3: Astral Weeks Expanded Edition 68 – which has extended versions a few tracks. The jazzy/chamber music setting is sweet &, at the time, quite revolutionary so radio stations didn’t know what to do with – musically a clear influence on the chamber rock of groups like Antony & the Johnsons. 

A stand-alones I have Moondance 70, His Band and The Street Choir 70, Tupelo Honey 71, St Dominic’s Preview 72, Hard Nose The Highway 73. At one time I had them as cassettes & upgraded to cd. Moondance remains a classic, timeless album. A more commercial recording than Astra Weeks. The music is celebratory, romantic & fun. The next ones are less hit-song driven, his sound changes from one to the next, choirs on one, more horns on another. I had most of these as cassettes at one time. Also mp3’s of Veedon Fleece 74, A Period of Transition 77.

Listening one can sense how his real life is reflected in his music. The end of his marriage, the wrestle with booze & drugs, his spiritual longings & his search for ways to express though lyrics & music his need to balance his expectations, fame & friends. In some ways a male version of Joni Mitchell but with a more rock sensibility. All of these are great albums but if you are unfamiliar start with Moondance & then Astral Weeks. 

More Van next week.

Anticipation 4

It was as he said ‘I want to know’ that he realized he did, in fact, accept The Book. It didn’t matter what he did, he couldn’t avoid his fate so he might as well start living to enjoy it. It didn’t matter what he did as long as he did something. The idea of making a decision that was not escape frightened him. That was also in The Book – ‘Martin will make the fearful choice after death.’ He regretted that it was someone else’s death.

So, this was the day. Overcast & slushy. No Michelangelo skies. As he dressed he wondered exactly what he would be doing at the moment of impact, the fulcrum of healing? Saving a drowning child? Taking a good shit? ‘What becomes the healing the world the most?’ he inhaled ‘God’, held it; breathed out, ‘Thank you.’ Then reversed the order.

Recently he had been pre-occupied by what would become of him after that moment. The Book ended with ‘On that February 14 Martin will begin the healing of the world.’ Nothing followed. Not that The Book had even been helpful in any important way. He had frequently wished it had said things like ‘Martin will become a doctor, or ‘wear those blue shorts to the beach.’ It only commented ‘… will then no longer feel lost.’ The horoscope in the newspaper was more helpful.

He hoped that once he got the healing started he could begin to live his own life for himself.

A list of To Do Today on the fridge had only one item on it – ‘Replace plug on corner lamp.’ That meant a trip to the hardware store, people, uniformed sales clerks. All the things he’d rather avoid.

The elevator in his building wasn’t working, again. Luckily he only had a six flight walk. In the carpark he discovered his arial had been snapped off, again. At least this time they hadn’t scratched a map of the world on his roof.

He went the hardware store in the mall. Found what he wanted quickly then went over to Finest Burgers in the food court. Ordered one with works & found a quiet spot that faced the dining area.

He looked at the hamburger & the fries. Fries overcooked to just the brownness he liked. The first bite was perfection. He knew it wasn’t the most healthy food but the combination of salt, ketchup & grease exploded in his mouth in the most satisfying way. A way he knew alfalfa sprouts couldn’t come near.

The molecular structure of the grease changed & the cholesterol deposits in Martin’s arteries began to dissolve. 

Brenda’s doctor looked at the test results. “Gone! Completely in remission.”

Charles put the gun down.

Brian decided he could look after the kids without her.

The blood sample on the slide mutated, the helper cells began to win.

Sylvia decided not to have that last donut.

Martin glanced up & saw that it was just after one. The healing had begun! He looked around expecting to see transformation. All he saw was people eating. He bit into his hamburger, Perfection again. And so it should be, after all wasn’t this a perfect day. The first perfect day ever.

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You First

You First

I was hiding

my feelings from him

not hiding exactly

but not declaring them

not putting them into words

what was communicated in my touch

was that enough

did he

could he

read between the kisses

between my legs

was there enough

emotionally import

in my smile

my eagerness

to convey 

what I was afraid 

to put into words

as I waited

for him to put into words

what I felt in his touch

Have you ever heard this in movies – ‘You never say you love me.’ or ‘Say it like you mean it?’ Have you thought who needs this needy person? There is a theory of power dynamics in a relationships that the power is with the person who loves the least. The difference could be .001% but it is there. 

Early in ‘romantic’ relationships there are these points where both parties are tentative about expressing their emotions. ‘I like you’ is so much less vulnerable than ‘I love you.’ I’ve known people who back out of relationships if the other party jumps the affection gun. Going for ‘love’ comes across as a red flag not an invitation to deepen things.

We get consistent mixed message about what ‘true’ love is vs. codependency. There is also this, to me, illogical linking of sexual fidelity with love. If you love  strawberry ice cream, to even look at another flavour is a betrayal of trust. But that’s a subject for another post.

This state of tentative love is called, I think, limerence, were so much hinge son the feel of falling, the feel of being fallen for – a feel where there is constant edge of ‘when will be together again’ permeates dreams, where texting a smile can change a mood. But if you text that smile & wait for it to be trend then get pissed if it isn’t returned fast enough – that isn’t love it’s control.

I don’t hide my affections but I also don’t go over board with them either. I do text a smile (or other body parts) then get on with my day. The pleasure is as much in the opportunity to send affection as it is to get it. 


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Picture Perfect 62

Picture Perfect 62

In his room Dan scanned the photo he thought might be Winston Chamberlain and ran the face through his Ager program and compared the result with one of the ones he had taken at the Museum. They were almost identical. What did that mean? Besides another visit to the Museum. He’d have to ask Linda about the two Kevins. Or was his memory starting to play tricks on him.

He went to his cloud storage where he had uploaded as many of the family photos he had time to before coming to the east coast. He then had Face Recog match these new face pics to all the ones in that file. No direct matches for this Kevin but a couple of near matches. Both were random people in the back ground of the beach pictures. 

He knew from his years on the force that no coincidence was to be overlooked so he flagged those pictures. He did the same for the pictures of Winston Chamberlain. 

The VidCon buzzer went off on the computer. He answered it and Sandy Reynolds appeared on his screen.

“Got caught in the rain, eh, boss?” She said.

“Word gets around.”

“More like lack of word gets around. We were expecting your call the last two nights and nothing. Good thing Peter kept us informed.”

“Shows how much I trust you guys. I can check up on you on line anyway.”

“I suppose.”

“This man from Lifend,” A photograph of a nondescript man appeared on a corner of the screen. “was by the Depot today looking for you.”

Dan enlarged the picture then minimized it.

“Not familiar to me.”

“He did give me his card.”

The card appeared on the screen. ‘Jakob Marhene – Products Development’ printed in the middle of it.

“Unless they’ve changed their design, that isn’t a Lifend card.”

“I didn’t say anything. Told him you weren’t available. You made it clear that anyone who needed to know where you’re already knew.”

“Right.”

“You did tell Lifend you’d be out of town?”

“They contacted me before I left to wish me well and to be sure to use their products as much as possible. The travel mug comes in handy. I’ve made sure the mug is in every shot I’m in. Of course the viewers will not know that unless Lifend buys advertising time to show them off. The hidden camera doesn’t call attention to itself.”

“What’s the picture quality like on the mug’s camera?”

He quickly told her about his Moose Trail adventure.

“The mug survived that easily. The pictures were random snaps with no one at the controls. It tumbled around taking pictures and even video footage. It’s on their website now. I don’t think the show’s target audience can afford two thousand dollar travel mugs.”

“Don’t put that mug in the dishwasher by mistake.”

“No fear. I’ll double check with Lifend about this Jakob Marhene.” With a couple of clicks he forwarded the picture & business card to Lifend. “There.”

“I’m worried about Linda. We haven’t heard anything from her since you left.”

“That’s good news. Hows Cuppa’s doing on their corner.”

“Funny you should ask. They’ve been delivering complementary coffee and muffins here twice a day since you left. Even to the Classic.”

“What!”

“They clearly did no market research.” Sandy laughed. 

“I can’t wait to talk too Jill about this. I’ll be back to Toronto on the weekend. I should be arriving Friday night. I’ll be at the store Saturday.”

“See you then boss.”

He checked his flight reservations before his video chat with Peter to confirm that he’d pick him up at the airport.

In the morning Dan was finishing the b part of the Arms b’n’b when he got a text from Baxter: “War rm 10 am.”

Two days into the Stellerton stay and they had made up for most of the time lost to the storm. Stephanie had new leads for them to follow up on. Dan had interviewed Joe Murphy a cousin of David McPherson, one of the missing children. His recollections were not that that different from what he had heard from the others.

The shock of the loss, anger at investigators being more convinced the parents were culprits. He didn’t tell them that in all cases the closest relatives were always prime suspects. That was also standard so as not to alert the families of other victims to avoid influencing their initial statements.

Dan was as puzzled as Joe as to why the investigations were never linked until the Quintex researchers had made those connections. 

Shortly after Dan arrived at the war room Warszawa arrived, then Stephanie, a couple of the camera crew and a woman he had never seen before.

“Before we get going I want to introduce you to our new sensitive. Jennifer Devereaux.”

“Pleased to meet you all. I am eager to help as much as possible. I’ve assisted in police cases across Canada for the several years. Glaucia Vidro was a good friend to me and had mentored me at one time. 

“Unlike her I am … more sensitive to current events. She was more attuned to what had happened in the past. I do have some sensitivity to the energy of  previous events but I’ve found that unless the objects have been protected in one way or the other, there isn’t enough energy for me to sense. Unlike Mr. James who can read things in a photograph from any point time. I would only see an old photograph.

“I should add that I am not a mentalist so don’t ask me to read your minds; nor am I the sort of clairvoyant who can tell you who you’ll marry. I can tell you if are going to get married though. But not how long it’ll last.”

“Any questions for Jennifer?”

“Will we catch the abductor?” Stephanie asked.

Jennifer closed her eyes for a moment. “Yes! Oh, even I wasn’t expecting that to come through so fast. That means you are closer to a solution than you think. But it isn’t going to be a … tidy ending.”

“Excellent Jen. You and Dan will be interviewing David McPherson’s Aunt. His parent are both deceased so she & the cousin are the best we can do.” 

Baxter went to the families’ section of the suspects’ boards in the war room. “Mrs. O’Connor in Moncton is in shape to be seen as well, so Dan will be backtracking to talk with her on Saturday.”

“Dan will be talking to his staff in Toronto on Saturday.” Dan said.

“Oh, no! Didn’t you get the memo.” Baxter laughed. “All weekend passes have been cancelled to make up for time lost thanks to the storm.” Baxter shrugged. 

“Not mine.” Dan said. “There was nothing in the contract about forced overtime.”

“Dan I thought you were a team player.”

“Think again. It is a part of our contract that I return to Toronto to attend to my business there. It was you who insisted we specify exact dates for that, so you could keep the production schedule on track.”

“We didn’t anticipate this set of circumstances.” Baxter said, motioning toward his broken arm. “You know how limited our time is for this. I don’t want to add any days after the proposed end time.”

“Not my problem.” Dan said looking up from his cell. “I’ve confirmed my flight. Out of Halifax tomorrow. I’ll be returning here for Tuesday.” He sent Stephanie & Baxter copies of the confirmation. 

“Tuesday! If we’re going by that contact you forced on me, you’ll be back here Monday.”
“Monday I’ll be interviewing Mrs. O’Connor in Moncton.”

“Let me check with her.” Stephanie tapped into her cell.

“That’ll work. Monday is actually better for Mrs. O’Connor. She’s thankful for the slight delay.”

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Apocalypse Postponed

The covid pandemic hasn’t been like the post-apocalypse movies – you know, those end-of-the-world scenarios where panicked mobs take the streets to pillage stores & hunt down one another in the struggle for survival. At least not yet. People have gotten steamed up, some reactionary noisiness about masks, vaccines with finger-pointing blame & some calling out profit mongering. Let’s face it if the pandemic wasn’t making someone lots of $ it would be ignored.

People are confused by science. One day one of the vaccines isn’t safe for over sixty, then another day it is safe but not safe for under 50’s, or at least not safe if you female between the ages of 30-40, but now safe for over over 60’s regardless of gender. Were safety protocols rushed to get it on the market? No, that would never happen.

Here in Ontario the numbers are confusing & ultimately ignored. The number of vaccines given hasn’t brought the numbers of infected down, in fact it has gone up. The biggest jump has been in schools but we can’t close them because parents need to work now that more businesses are being reopened because we have to get the economy moving so the tax base is large enough to pay for the vaccines, or something like that.

The economy has to recover so politicians can be re-elected with enough of a majority that can protect the profit margins of those already making $ off the pandemic. You know those banks who get a fee every time you use your debit/credit card because most retailers no longer accept cash because cash is riddled with potential disease. You pay a fee & the merchant pays a fee – win/win for the banking industry. How much do they pay into the tax base?

I did get my vaccine as soon as my age bracket was allowed. Booked it on line but first entering my postal code, it directed me to the nearest temporary clinic where I continued the process with birth date, health card number & it was done. Took about fifteen minutes. I did that on a Saturday & appointment booked for Tuesday, 10:20 a.m. Got there on the Tuesday by 10, lineups moving fairly quickly. More registration confirmations etc. Got the shot by 10:30.

I was given the vaccine info after the shot. I got the Pfizer – apparently the #1 rated, so far. Sat for 15 minutes, was given a receipt for the shot, next one booked for July. No side effects not even the sore arm many have experienced. I’m not sure whose profit margin I have helped but at least I didn’t have to use my credit card 🙂

Puppet Theatre Time (2008)

the theory is that

our leaders are all puppets 

figureheads

who are invested

in the illusion of power

unaware they are hollow images

taking the heat for the real powers

a hidden consortium 

who make the real decisions

they exert the right squeeze

so little leaders slump out 

to take the blame 

because leaders are just frail men

with no will power to wield

no clout to get the job done

not even attractive to look at

so they are more believable

<>

politics is now 

a form of entertainment

media fodder

to hide the real holders of power

we are amused  numbed

by the constant barrage 

of sound bite cell cam videos

of presidents getting photo ops

when they should be 

getting our boys out of 

wherever the hell they are 

because even where they are

isn’t the real war zone

but a more elaborate movie set

with real lives being lost

to keep our attention away from

what is really going on

<>

no one is sure what is really going on

it isn’t what we accept as the truth

there is no money in truth

only diverting statics

from the struggle for freedom

from Tibet to Kensington market 

upscale name branded 

divisive tactics

sometimes I believe this 

sometimes I don’t care

where do we place our faith

what is worth the energy to change

if it can be changed

revolution has been copyrighted 

by este lauder

the latest scent 

a mix of blood oil jasmine

with woody undertones

<>

if it isn’t making someone money 

it isn’t going to happen

war happens because it is big business

cancer continues to make a profit

going green isn’t happening 

the profit margins are too low

most people don’t earn

enough to save the planet

from who holds 

the reins of the illusion power

or so the theory goes

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– sweet, eh? paypal.me/TOpoet

Egg Trees

Egg trees have been sprouting all around the east end. This is a growing spring holiday decorating that I love to see. This is another pagan festival that the Christian church hasn’t been able to obliterate. As far I know there were no hard-boiled eggs or rabbit pie at the Last Supper 🙂

festive hedge
hot magenta
happy dangle day
let’s get sticky
more danglers
bejewelled
egg-flation
someone left an egg out in the rain


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Recap March 2021

Over the past year by TOpoet.ca following blog grew to 487! The only stat WP doesn’t give is where the followers are located but WP map does show my hits have come from 30 countries around the world. That USA tops the list is no surprise but that India & Bangladesh are in the top 4 is interesting. Ireland, Japan in the top 10!  Most popular post for March was Attention Span (https://topoet.ca/2021/03/28/attention-span/). My Tumblr is at 311. It would be higher but this past month I‘ve blocking a flood of banal anime sex sites. Twitter 231 followers.

Picture Perfect is moving along with 61 sections, nearly 90,000 words, posted so far, with 95,000 words approx to be edited, then posted. Yes finally at the half-way point & know there are major cuts yet to be made. That the joy of writing without worry I know I can chase a subplot knowing if it doesn’t pan out it can be chopped.

I continued working through the archived files of short-stories, poetry, even plays. Some date back to the mid-seventies. My typing & handwriting haven’t improved much over the decades. I’m enjoying the array of paper, scrap paper, that I used. It helps to date some of the work, as does the typewriter used, the colour of ink, & of course dot-matrix printouts – some of which hadn’t been separated.

I watched lots of great movies this past month including two wildly different movies about witches. The first is a version of Susperia – based on the original Dario Argenta movie but not a remake. I love the original despite the distracting loud soundtrack. Both are set in a dance school. I enjoyed this fresh take in which dance took a major role. The music & choreography & even the theory of dance were spot on. The music was moody, never intrusive. Performances were great – Tilda Swinton was fine. The bloodbath scene was gory but then …. sadly they added an endless, pointless coda that turned an A movie into a C.

The other witch move was ‘The Juniper Tree’ from 1990. It could have been a lost Bergman film with its stark Iceland setting, shot in stunning black & white. Mystical, poetic & magical without any special effects & solid compelling performances. Ethereal music & a realistic ending. Well worth searching out. 

As break from the macabre I watched, for at least the 3rd time, The Umbrellas of Cherbourg. This was the fully restored print with stunning colour & a pristine soundtrack. This is a masterpiece of film making. The set decor is breathtaking, stunning & a feast for the eyes. The cast is good, Deneuve is stunning too. The men are tasty Gallic eye candy. The music is lush & the singing is perfect. All the voices are dubbed – so this is a live-action animated feature 🙂 They sing like ordinary people – I’m so used to the over-singing of songs in which every one has to have a heart-rending emotional climax. 

Another truly amazing film was Diamonds In The Night – Czech black & white – follows two young men, escapees from transport to concentration camp during WWII. A touch surreal, intense, compelling & rewarding. 

We’re finally watching The Crown, season 2. The Aberfan episode is one of the most amazing chapters of a serial I’ve ever seen, right up there with The Queen episode of Castle Rock. An emotional tour de force that left me tearful. Heart-rending without being cloying or over-the-top.

from the archives – sometime 1985

‘let’s swim to the moon’

Jim Morrison

last night I dreamed of the dead

they weren’t looking very well

the endlessness of the past

was worrying them

as there was more past every day

their worries were constantly growing

at this point as expected

things got a little confusing

the cafe of experience

was flooded by Symbolists

our meals became metaphors

which left us hungering for reality

an allusion of symbiotics

were looking for a new quantifier

they wanted pride

by lions had already cornered that one

they asked to join us for coffee

but no one had a measuring spoon

mystic sixties retro music on the juke box

left us even more unsatisfied

reminding us of old frustrations

we had matured out of long long ago

we were speechless with despair 

none willing to swim anymore

there was no room for miles

the stars repeated their menu

soup song of sorrows in the heartbreak hotel

pulling up to the gas pump

in an early model Chevrolet 

revved up the effortless drive of love

to fuel the furnace of art

Hey! You can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy coffee
sweet, eh? paypal.me/TOpoet