Featured Post of the week: You are the dreamer

Gray forest
White cloudless sky
A soldier plays piano in a clearing
Around him are the slain
You are the dreamer
You are the dream
You are the bleakness
the bleeding
the lacking colour
the aftermath of this scene
No tears
As your dress
Glides across the moss
A slight breeze
As something within you stirs
Rage lights your eyes
Outrage close by
Something within you dies
As you recognize
You are the soldier
the mother, father, and child
the destruction
the flowers crushed beneath
You are the weapon
You are their lifeless eyes

held you all along

I had you close tip of the tongue
in all sorts
even when you were gone
I held you all along

in every movie star
that looked slightly
like you are
I spent sometime
along their side
pretending it was you
I held you all along

from a flourish of colour
rushing behind my opening eyelids
that made me swear
Here’s lookin’ at you, kid
wherever I was
there you were
I held you all along
(the waterfront)
(long after the war is over)
(you still find land mines)


Some people say love when they mean commitment. Some demand love as an answer to a question they don’t know they’re asking. Some try to control love however fleeting. Others never say love at all. It’s too risky.

When I say love it’s of the unbound meaning. The all encompassing meaning.

When I say love I mean complete acceptance of you as you are now, of you as you were, of you as you will be.

When I say love I mean understanding. Not forgiveness for you have done nothing wrong in existing just as you are. There is nothing to forgive.

When I say love it isn’t about romance or lust or commitment or control. I say love to friends and foes, female or male, all alike.

When I say love I am saying, “I see you. I understand you, and I accept you completely. Just as you are.”

So please don’t misunderstand me or mistake the my meanings for the meanings of others when I say love.

Adding a couple categories


It’s uh me. Who else would it my since I hold tight my monopoly on this lovely sounding board. Just wanted to shoot off a little memo for ya’ll, eh. (Bringing a little southern USA to my Canadian cliched slang)

I’m adding two categories to this here place. The first is for poetry. As if it needs another category, but I insist. I’m calling it Shadowboxing. And it will signify a poem written by me but not from my own personal perspective. As in written as if I were someone else. Like an actor. Fiction possibly or imitative speculative truthiness more like.

The second category is going to be pretty self explanatory. It’s called dreams and its, well duh, about dreams. More specifically me attempting to recall dreams right after I’ve had them. To give you poor souls a little taste of what the wild beast I call my mind is capable of imagining when unleashed onto the sleep world.

So there you go. More to read and to love here in ClubNette.

Take care of your damn selves

fragments the thoughts I have right now

in the blue smoke


limbs to branches form
rooted into the ground

do not capitalize me now

for I am stuck hard
floating in the bog

the peat moss will preserve me
a mummified representation
of what I used to be

somewhere in here
I must find the will I lost
down below the permafrost

it’s glowing

slowly warming up
slowly thawing

too caught up
in the sticky mud
not yet drowning

just abhorring
that hoarfrosted crustacean

barnacles are growing
on my skin

somewhere my soul is breathing
inhale on five
exhale on six count

every now and then
I feel again
but I am weary
of the weather watcher talk
and the shallow things
that aren’t worth wading into

to gather round
circle the wagons
I’m abound

a smile blooms
from the cellophane

I am well
not perfect
but getting there
in my own time
just as well

I miss you like hell you know
the gel lens is blue over my thoughts of you
skippering over you
like a halo

platitudes I cannot get right
but love
such love
has a hearty might
even down here
in the paralyzed state

even statues cry tears when it rains
there’s no blame
in the Cirrocumulus_clouds

dew on the tombstones
are snowflakes this time of year
and I miss you like hell
but I can’t speak of it
I suppose
is a funny thing

makes me tired of all the pettiness
mechanisms I’ve gotta catch them all

but nothing is a replacement for
how much I miss you
I miss you like hell
because I love you so well

somewhere my soul
is deep breathing
steady in
steady out
picture the twin flames twirling

all fragments
blown apart
I’m cementing back together
my thoughts
a stained glass
warbling air bubbles trapped
in the red gold hues
and the indigo blues

I’m doing well
I just miss you like hell
and I can’t get the words right
someday(?) I will

crook staff

there’s a crook staff
in the light shaft
shadowing over
the salt crust
sparkling on the bus floor
rivulets running
through the brown slush
trek to the seat
clown face frosted in the dirty window
tears streaky
fall’ng from the funny man’s profile
he laments the lack of sunshine
no vitamin D for the dirty window clown
hopeless until the windex erases his existence
then perhaps he’ll smile

tremendous risk of failure

tremendous risk of failure

certain doom

the choice
in the face
of adversity

restless nature
a maelstrom

we cannot be stopped
by resting on our laurels

ever reaching
to everlast

promise me
you’ll never cast
yourself the victim
(they never thaw from their permafrost)

tremendous risk of failure

bring it on
I’m ready to take a chance