I’m a tree slowly falling into a slue

July 27, 2014

I’m a tree falling slowly into a slue.
The water is eroding my roots.
I will drown soon.
No need to save me.
My bark has gills.
I’ve had my fill of this old shill.
Don’t tether me up.
Don’t prevent me from dropping.
There’s no use.
I want to be going.
I want to be sinking into surrendering down.
I want to be forgotten floating out in the deep end.
Crying for me is futile you see.
You must recall I am only a tree.
Not any of the humanizations you’ve placed upon me.
They’ll one day haul me up.
Murky from the muddy depths.
Call me an ancient relic.
They will decide to salvage me.
Sand me down and lacquer me up.
My woodgrains shown off.
I am a rugged centre piece to someone’s urban loft.

@Clubnette July 2014

the L-ways

July 27, 2014

the L-ways
the all or nothing ways
the enter stage right in your part in this play
the sunset, sunrise, star light days
the frozen silver dollar frays

the avenues
the vivid hues
the caressing views
the get down on your knees pews
the secret cues
the wet chalk lines on the tires dues
the peacock breasted crested patent leather shoes
the rhythm & blues
the chaos muse

the draw and pull
the words of your soul
the bring back nothing but the bells that toll
the whispering full
the tempest teacups in a salad bowl
the fainting firmness of all
the real time make it prime fall

the despairing wells
the window shelves
the living hells
the prison cells
the screaming, blooming, bleeding tells
the hyena yells
the biographical grid lined sells

the pride up on the cliffside dives
the heaven in your inner thighs
the curve in your sighs
the mile highs
the beagled eating eagles eyes
the frantic rise
the grating wonder baiting ties
the passion plied

the always
the old ways
the life ways
the love ways
the all or nothing ways
the L-ways

I will share this with you

@Clubnette July 2014

rocky outcroppings

July 26, 2014



July 8, 2014

stream vertically down
these puffed white clouds
miles up
the hills in the distance
deep blue
sea green in places
where the water droplets
scatter the light
there’s a world up there
in the many layered clouds
serenity now
peer up
I wish aloud for wings


July 8, 2014

it’s been drizzling
half the drive
wet sheen to the world
mist hangs from the hills
mid air
the trees still
no breeze
peace on earth seems
almost possible
while on this stretch of tartop

there’s no ticker tape parades
for the tow trucks
salvation though they may be
same for the flashing sirens
of any kind
give them right of way
quiet pleading
please let them
get there in time

written on the highway side
on the cut slate cliffs
matte black
spray paint
exuberance held in hand
transferred to
a more permanent state

500 meters down
on a similar stretch of rock face
is an serene silent vigil
to someone killed
flowers on the cliff top
the everlasting kind
brightly dyed cloth
and plastic stems
all season memorial

another white cross
in the tall grass
mowed around the marker
wreathed in flowers
someone is loved
someone is dearly missed

tiny inukshuk
intricately placed
some too fragile
to make it
become rock piles
scattered fragments

outdoor exposure
reads the decrepit billboard
on a slow sag
into the grass
still wired for power

some pristine
some weathered
some just skeletal
timber frames
some boards for rent
some people live their lives that way
all screaming
in their bright colours
don’t text and drive
seat belts save lives

the smaller road signs
such strange names
ezylyfe road on the right
meteorite crater on the left
Nairn Centre up ahead
does Black Bay
have deep, dark waters?
I wonder

no time to find out
must be rolling on

entire forests fenced in
no trespassing
this vast pine expanse
seems the hedonist
in my wants to climb over
run free
same as the graffiti

for sale
these small towns
awash in the vacant
boarded up buildings
once gaily decorated
now the paint is peeling

but hardship
hasn’t stolen
the happy eyes of the locals
in the places we’ve stopped
like this country
the Great North
true survivors

these power poles
that follow the roads
will be the totem poles
modern civilization
leaves behind

we’d be back to
the thunder routes
the timber trails
the starlit veils
the owl knells
the unnamed paths

back to
as far as the crow flies
as a measure of time

they’ll come across
inspect it carefully
know of
the origins
as carefree

rolling on
seems like blue skies ahead

you keep watch

July 6, 2014

you keep watch
torches lit
the monster caged
kept in the prison in your mind
locked down tight

you never relax
always stay vigilant
one lapse
one unlocked door
one collapsed wall
they’ll find you out
pitchforks stabbing
the monster will cry out
before you lock it back up
but it never dies does it

whimpering in the dark
the monster is hurt
and you do all you can to protect it from the world
run far away
to the darker recesses of your mind

you’ll hide there
no one will know
of your hidden fangs
your tearing ways
you’ll slip yourself behind bars
no one will find out

chasing the silver lining
in the barbed wire
you wrap around yourself
you’re in control

the monster slumbers
once again

then comes the flash
someone is looking in
eyes squinting in the bright light
you swear you see home
long lost

the prison dissolves
as someone holds the monster

you transform
the claws become fingers
that reach out to touch
the salvation

you almost hope it burns
too afraid of hope
and what it does

guard down
red alert
officer down

you feel like running back into what you’ve always known
it’s safer there
in the dark
with the heart’s eyes closed

you know
you won’t be chased there
you know
you’d be alone again
back in control
it’s a relief of pressure
a sensual surrender into lowered expectations

but there’s something in their smile
that knows the monster is you
has always known

there’s something about the light that speaks of home
of love
of trust
it’s a voice you heard once upon a time

cowering you take a step outside
a hand takes hold
there’s no place like home
no feeling like hope

Ms. Rathford: a short scene

July 6, 2014

We were all lined up. Vehicles in a garage when the bomb went off. Our grand plan ruined. People like living flames running around until you could catch them. And you dropped them. Covered them on whatever you could. And rolled them around until the flames went out. Hope that they make it. Most of them won’t.

The sirens came. Lights rebounding off the concrete pillars. Sounds deafening in the echoing, deep underground part of the high rise we were under. The structure around me seemed sound. Maybe it wouldn’t all come crashing down.

The blood was everywhere.

The vechiles slowly burnt out before they could get a water truck down here. The garage was supposed to have a high pressure hose of their own, but they did not. A safety violation that the charred remains were beyond caring about.

I couldn’t help but be burned in the assault. There we were practically invincible. About to go out on the job of the century. Taken down. Quite easily. Should have known better. Should have expected we had a traitor in our midst.

By the time the paramedics got there I was covered in the blood and missing skin of my fallen team mates. I wasn’t feeling any pain so I brushed them away. But the police officers gently gestured me to the back of an ambulance and cuffed my hands to the rails of the bed.

As they wheeled me to the hospital, two detectives were trying desperately to find out what had happened. Like hell I was going to tell them. That’s not how things are taken care of. Besides I wasn’t dying. I felt no need to talk at all. So they berated me and I allowed them to.

They searched me and found an ID and began to refer to me via the name they had discovered.

One of the detectives leaned in closer. “Make this easier on yourself, Ms. Rathford and tell us who targeted you. We’ve found enough at the scene to put you and any of your friends that survive away for life.”

I quietly said. “I’ve nothing to say to you.”

This angered the other detective who promptly shoved his fingers into the wound on my shoulder sustained in the explosion.

I screamed. There wasn’t a choice of holding back. The pain went hot, black and overwhelming.

The paramedic, to her credit, pushed off the man and forced him aside. “Touch her again, and I’ll have you badge pulled. Criminal or not, she is still my patient.”

“There are lives at stake here. We do what we have to.” He snapped back.

Swallowing back the nausea, I murmured, “That’s a sliding scale of morality if I’ve ever seen one.”

“What would someone like you know about morals?”

“More than someone like you who has right or wrong spoon fed to them.”

“Look, Ms. Rathford. Word has it that your crew was planning something big. We have been watching you. How do you think we arrived so fast?”

“Little good that did.”

“Even you didn’t expect the bombs.”

“No, we didn’t.”

“Who would have wanted to stop you?”

“Beside you guys?”

“Bitch! You fucking think cops would do this?”

“I don’t know, you tell me. Awful convenient of you to come to rescue after the fireworks go off.”

“Calm down,” the female detective directed to her partner. “You’ll have to exude him: he has a personal interest in this case.”

“I couldn’t tell.”

“He has a sister who was..”

I interrupted her, “Save me the sob story. We are all responsible for our actions.”

“Yeah and yours got your friends killed.”

“They all knew what they were signing up for. And you don’t even know who I am.”

“You’re not one of the leaders. I don’t recognize you.”

“Never been one to step first. Could be traps.”

“See. You’re smart. That’s how I’ll know you’ll help us.”

“I will, will I? Why’s that exactly?”

“Because you want revenge on those who did this.”

“True. But I don’t need your help for such things.”

“Where you’re going, you’ll not be doing anything you weren’t already told to.”

I smile and turned to the paramedic. “Anything you can give me for the pain?”

“Sure. Have any addictions I need to know about. Any drugs in your system?”

“Nothing but a B vitamin I took this morning.”

“Lying to me could have dire consequences if what I give you interacts with what you’ve already taken.”

“I am aware.”

“Nothing in your system?”

“No. I told you.”

“Ms. Rathford. Why were you a target?” asked the female detective with her head tilted in what I assumed was her standard sympathetic pose.

“You’re still here?”

“I’m not going anywhere until you talk.”

“You’ll be waiting awhile then, friend. Because like I have already told you. I am not speaking with the police.”

“Why bombs why not a shooting?” she persisted with her questions.

I smiled. “They wanted to be sure we couldn’t recover. A shooting may wipe out personnel, but it leaves your equipment intact. Now if you don’t mind I’d like to rest.”

I closed my eyes and awaited the drowsy agitated dreams that narcotics bring.

Human torches move in the darkness behind my eyes.

untitled July 4, 2014: a twitter poem

July 4, 2014

all along the wavelength
lasso me into another parallel
need the strength
to survive the flux and flow
the shells dissolve
sight unseen

almost as though
the multiverse was here all along
the tinfoil on the window
kept the radio waves out
strings playing pong
heart song recall

shed the coat
lose the resolve
reality as sense perceives
concrete dissolves
becomes sand in the glass
turn me over

skin scalded
by the flames
spirit remains untamed
thoughts circle in a holding pattern
turn raven
direct strike
the mind is blown


Written as a series of tweets. My favourite way to write improv poetry. Something about the blank screen and 140 character limit.

Relay: Chapter Five

July 4, 2014

(This story contains violence, nudity, coarse language, and mature subject matter. Reader discretion is strongly advised. Gma, this means you. <3 )

(The other chapters are here: 1, 2, 3, 4 in case you missed them.)

“I have seen the Great existence without need of form. I am haunted by the freedom. Even without these bars I am behind, I am imprisoned within my own skin. I long to be dust. Dust everlasting.”
~Auguste “Dust” Mendes

Whereabouts unknown: Currently

Orleans found herself standing in a dimly lit room with her back to a door. Xell was seated at a small table to the right. Behind him was an empty cot. On the left was the same furniture and an old man stretched out with his legs crossed on his cot reading a book. The rest of the room contained no decorations. Just black walls, and sleek grey cabinets.

Both of the men were wearing some kind of uniform done in a pale blue that looked like gym clothing.

She could feel strong vibrations coming through the floor and resounding around her. Every now and then there was a sharp shudder. She felt unsteady on her feet and reached out to the wall to steady herself only to find it also was rhythmically resonating.

“There are things to be done, Orleans. You won’t understand at first, but I hope in time you will come to know the why of it. I want you to understand my intentions in all of this,” said Xell.

The large window behind him looked out onto space. The room they were in was moving. Slowly, stars passed by.

Xell continued, “I want you to come to me willingly. As always, I need you.”

Orleans didn’t respond. Just stared at the impossible galaxy beyond. She tamped down the feeling of nausea as best she could.

The old man seated on the cot looked up from the book he was reading and asked, “Who is she, Lucas? How did she get here?”

Xell/Lucas waved his hand casually, “Not to worry Mr. Bishop. This is Orleans. She is a dear friend. She’s here to help us.”

Mr. Bishop looked thoughtfully at the woman and turned back to Xell. “I see.”
He went back to reading.

Xell held a sleek black pen in his hands which he rolled between his thumb and his forefinger. “You’re in more danger than you know, Orleans. It’s a risk to contact you like this, but I need you to be aware of your surroundings. I need you to know they are watching you. Always watching you.”

Orleans walked past them both to the window. She ignored her reflection other than noticing she was dressed in a hospital gown and look out onto the blackness of space. “I don’t need your help. Don’t want it. You went your way. I went mine,” she said. She couldn’t help but stare at the slow swirl masses ahead of them.

“They hope you will lead them to me.”

“Ha,” replied Orleans. “Fat chance of that happening. I don’t even like acknowledging your existence these days.”

“Eventually you will come to find me. I expect they will follow you. I just want you to be aware of who you bring along.” Xell sounded sure of his assertions.

She closed her eyes, tired of the tension she felt around her. She didn’t feel like participating anymore. “Bullshit. I don’t give a shit what your plans are.”

“Even if it means the survival of us of us? Would you care if I told you Jules and all the rest of the veil will die without intervention?” Xell had a pleading tone to his voice.

She took a deep breath. Opened her eyes to see the ‘heavens’ her ancestors had only been able to see from Earth’s gravity. “I’ve seen so much death in my lifetime. What’s a few more bodies to add to the count?”

“You don’t mean that.” Xell’s voice softened.

She turned back to look at him noticing for the first time the ever present sadness in his eyes hidden beyond his pride. “Maybe I do. Maybe in the end of all this, none of us were ever meant to survive the Grey.” She looked back out the window completely captivated.

“It troubles me to see you so, my love,” He said lightly.

She sighed more than exasperated. “Leave me alone, Xell. I just got back home and I’m tired as hell.”

“We’re all tired, Orleans. But the fate of the world is at stake and we must continue on just like everybody else.”

“Oh no. Not the fate of the world you say. Dear Lord. Whatever shall we do.”

He stood up from his table and moved closer to her. “Orleans, listen to me.”

She turned to fully face him. She shivered in her hospital gown. It was cold in this place. She gritted her teeth as she bite the words at him “You’ve become pathetic and boring even in my dreams, Xell. This must mean something.”

“Are you certain this is a dream?” He tilted his head and looked past her to the view beyond.

She grinned as her eyes narrowed. A tinge of hate to her voice. “Hmm. Spaceship. Random old guy who vaguely looks like someone out of a history book and you. Yep. Pretty fucking certain this is a dream.”

“Don’t discount this. I may end up turning out to be real.” He studied her face which made her self conscious and uncomfortable.

“As real a ghost as you ever were, Xell.”

His whole face tightened. His jaw clenched. “There’s not much time left to waste in this idle chastising.” He grabbed hold of her arm tightly and she couldn’t escape his grasp. He pulled her towards him as he looked down into her eyes. “Listen to me, I’ve reprogrammed the relays to read as though you’ve been gone to Halifax, Nova Scotia in 1911 for the last four years. So when they ask you, be sure to tell them that is indeed where you’ve been.”

He let go of her and she fled back towards the door. It had no handle and it would not open for her. She briefly searched for a keypad but couldn’t see one. She turned back to him. Prepared herself in case she had to get violent.

“I don’t understand. Why would you need to reprogram the relays?” She asked.

“You don’t have any idea where you were, do you?” He looked at her with sympathy as he kept his distance.

“I don’t remember.”

“That’s not surprising.”

“Fine. Where have I been?”

He ran his hands along the back of the chair he had been sitting in. “That’s the thing: you’ve never been anywhere in any time period. Four years ago you went into a relay and never stepped through to any side or time.”

“That’s not possible.” She stopped looking for an escape for a moment as confusion set in.

“It is quite, I assure you, possible. After all your sister did the same thing albeit it by accident. You went into that malfunctioning relay and brought her back. I have done the same for you. The only difference was the relay you were in wasn’t malfunctioning.”

“It’s not possible to stay inside. That kills people.”

“It didn’t kill you, Orleans. You’re here. You’re home. You’re alive.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“It doesn’t matter whether you believe me or not. It’s the truth, and I always told you above everything I’d be honest first and foremost.”

“Look how well that turned out for us.”

Her words hit their mark in him as he pleaded, “Orleans, please just tell them you were in 1911. Don’t let them find out the truth. They need to believe you’re still controllable.”

Xell stood up and moved towards her. She turned her face away from him. Closed her eyes.

“Orleans,” she heard him say very softly and very close. “Orleans please look at me.”

She opened her eyes to see him looking down at her inches from contact. His eyes tried to hold hers but she had to look away.

His voice cracked when he said, “I’ve missed you so very much.” His eyes filling with tears.

She slid out away from him. A strong light blinded her eyes. And she was gone away from the strange place.

Spectral hugs

July 2, 2014

(wrote this on twitter in obviously a series of tweets. <3 Nette)

Spectral hugs that speak of love; they evaporate too soon.
Far away and yet close to the heartbeat.
Refreshed by every new breath.
Helpless in the heartache of those you love.
Tormented by pain you cannot take away.
Your smile becomes a beacon of hope.
You hope it shines brightly enough in the heaviness of darkness falling.
Let them know they are never alone.
Let them know you will keep them close.
Never let them go.
No matter how deep they tread.
No matter how long they’ve been away.
Love is unbound by distance.
Travels at the speed of light.
Faster than reality can bend it.
Briefly it glows.
Becoming the horizon.
The way home.

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