Buckets of Love Betrayed

I was planning to blog about the Olympics and my love of the two-man lube, I mean, luge when I realized that this is Valentine’s Day.

purplefeed the birds

I have this reminder – “Find something to do that puts a smile on your face and enjoy it. Make this a day to remember what is truly important to you.” I read it every morning to keep me mindful of the moment of doing as opposed to the long term results.

pillowsthrown cushions

There are times when I long for the financial freedom to travel, to visit San Francisco again, or Caracas for the first time and doing the ordinary things takes effort. Who wants to spend ten minutes getting dressed warmly enough to go anywhere, let alone some cafe or bar that doesn’t have anywhere to hang your coat? A coat trailing in a puddle on the floor doesn’t put a smile on my face.

mugsMalibu mugged

The number of things let me smile are endless though and the more simple I allow them to stay the more there are. Sun on the snow of the roof of my garage, finding the right tumblr pic to send someone, the opening of Beethoven’s 7th symphony, the chorus of Katy Perry’s Teenage Dream, the first chocolate in the box.

One of the things I enjoyed in the Salinger documentary was that he loved to write but not to publish. He stove to be free from the need to shape his thinking to suit public demand and I respect that decision. It’s one of the reasons I lost all real desire to publish – not that I won’t but thanks to e.publishing I won’t have to deal with some marketing plan from anyone but myself.

Everyday I do something I enjoy. I sacrifice things in order to have the time to do things, I make the time, I share the time and sleep well as a result.



amflyerjpg copy

June 6-8 – attending – Bloody Words

June 23-27 – attending – Manuscript to Book – Loyalist Summer Arts – Belleville https://www.facebook.com/events/589522924455695/

August 28-31 – attending – FanExpo Canada



he sings

I’ve been so betrayed 

by the people I love

I wonder

if the story isn’t

that he has been betrayed

by what he expected of the people he loved

by what he expected of love

that the betrayal

was imposed

predestined by our culture

by the media machine’s

pumped out  pumped up inflated

fragile ability of love

to be anything more than love

we become convinced

true love has to save

has to cure the addicted

has to transform dowdy into beauty

real love has to allow

us to transcend our human limitations

to become

angles of constant mercy

so when that doesn’t happen

he sings

I’ve been so betrayed

I’ve been caught in that net

presented so attractively

by those songs of life

being meaningless without you

you’re nobody till somebody loves you

songs that send us out

as love seeking missiles

looking for any target

ready to implode upon ourselves

as being the ones at fault

never given the opportunity

to question the validity & authenticity

of those lyrics  those scripts

where the right things

get said at the right time

wedding plans are changed

lives are set upon their right course

not the mistaken course

a course taken

in the fanatic search for pure love

for eternal everlasting

cancer curing love

real love is

the endless availability of instant


if it isn’t that instant gratification

then it can’t be true love

if it isn’t driving past your house

at midnight

just to see if you are home

how can it call itself love

if it isn’t ready to murder to keep you

if it hasn’t locked  you in a room

so you can’t escape then it isn’t love

if it isn’t phoning you at work every hour

wanting to know how you are

what are you wearing

can I see you again

when will you be home

did you like the flowers

chocolates   sexy underwear

did you get the gifts

weren’t the gifts enough

why do you talk to other people

why do you want to be alone

why can’t I watch you on the can

why don’t you love me

as much as I love you

why don’t you want to be with me every second

isn’t that what love is all about

isn’t it

you betrayed me

even as I remind myself

of all these things that love isn’t

I have half a heart

that wishes they were love

those thing would make it so much simpler

that the stalking display

of the fearful and over-possessive

was the true marker of love

because it is so easy to recognize

whereas the real lasting love

isn’t as melodramatic suffocating

maybe at first

but for it to grow

it needs a soil deeper

than the lyrics of some song

than the images of some movie

it needs to grow past illusions

into the heart of the matter


too many give up when the film is over

when the music fades

SAM_1050you keep me hanging on

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