Winter Is Here

The cold bites,
my fingers hide curled inside my jacket pockets,
my face buried beneath my scarf,
wrapped to shield my visage.

Jacket donned, I walk,
snow silencing my every step,
periodically slipping on the ice.

Between near-face-plants,
and near misses by snowball ambushes,
I am relaxed.

There is nothing quite like the winter,
before it is set upon by,
the return of urbanization.

The heavenly time,
when the snow first falls,
blanketing us all beneath it,
and the world stops for just a little while,
to sink into its ambivalence.

Either basking in its beauty,
or gawking open-mouthed,
attempting to search for,
the snowy pit of despair,
their heart had fallen into,
by the snow shovel.

I am the former group however,
and there is no moment more magical,
than the silence brought upon,
by the first blanket of snow.

Untouched by any hands,
unscathed by dirt and car tires,
un-scorched by the tired curses of angry car owners,
un-extorted by the snowplow industry.

I know eventually, that it will be freezing rain and blizzards,
but I’m shoving it into the back of my mind, because I am going to make this a happy occasion, damn it!
Humming a happy tune, as I walk through the winter wonderland,
children making snow-forts, laughter filling the streets,
empty of cars, because they’re all stuck.

Icicles hang, refracting the light from all around.

Happy songs carry through the streets,
pleasant smiles and reddened cheeks,
greet you with a “good-day!”

I walk past houses,
catching faint glimmers of
the soft light from within.

I walk past canals,
where the ice has been carved
by the skates of carefree people,
gliding, almost flying through on the
December breeze.

All the while, a short ways away,
passionate hockey players smash heads,
but play on, kept warm by the fire in their veins.

Obligatory happy couples eat ice cream on a bench,
yes, ice cream, I live in Canada.

I go home for a quiet night in,
and a nice hot chocolate,
simmering to perfection,
its sweet smell wafting through the air.

A yuletide movie plays in the background,
lovely music unpolluted by anything from Disney.

Let it snow, let it snow,

Yeah, that’s not what you thought I was going to say, was it?

All of this, plus Eddard Stark, serves as a wonderful reminder,
that winter, is here.

Now, time to do that damned driveway….

Accidental Photo

IMG_2979This was a photo from last month I have just dug up. Interestingly enough, I enjoy this photo, even though I had no intention of taking it at the time.

I was taking some photos, and was walking over to the door, when one of my furry, four-legged friends, decided to dash out from underneath the table, moving right in front of where I was now stepping.

In a very creative attempt to not step on him, I managed to trip and fell over, contorting myself as to not damage the camera.

Mid-fall, I had accidentally taken this photo. On the positive side, the photo is interesting, but I had a few bruises to show for it.


I got to thinking

Sometimes, it’s hard to uproot a problem.

Sometimes, it’s because the problem has been there for so long, you can’t see it anymore, because it has just melded into the background of normalcy.

It is at that point, I’ve found, that it takes a keen eye, and self-awareness, to find this camouflaged monster under the bed, Waldo of life, secret in the closet, whatever you want to call it.

The one secret weapon everyone had though, is that all problems, always come to an end.

Beating Your Head Against A Wall

This poem is dedicated, to all of those moments, when you just want to beat your head against a wall; filing taxes, when it rains for the 100th time, falling in love with someone you hate, gasoline prices, forgetting to do insert arbitrary task here, and so much more. Enjoy:


Frustrations finest,

universe stacked against you,

the wall looks so nice.

Wheel Back in Motion: DP Response

Daily Post asked:

Writer’s Block Party

When was the last time you experienced writer’s block? What do you think brought it about — and how did you dig your way out of it?


Writer’s block is something I often experience, the annoyance of going days without so much as a single idea…

Ironically, I had a difficult time coming up with something to write for this post.


Writer’s block, a constant plague in the mind. consistently nibbling away at the idea.

Like a butterfly emerges from its cocoon, the idea emerges from the depths of the mind.

Nothing can be blamed but the hamster who runs the crux of the creative centers. A bustling metropolis, stopped dead in its tracks for a periodic blackout.

Whence the hamster recovers from its emotional bout, he shall eventually, put the wheel back in motion.

The only problem being, that the hamster requires a range of oddities to inspire him back to work. It could be anything, a word here, a label there, some guy running down the street screaming obscenities… no one ever knows what inspires the hamster, but it always finds its way back.


The Supreme Court

Why are corporations treated the same way as people? Why do they have equal/more rights than people?

Allow me to express my frustration in a brief poem:


Supreme court so high,

No qualms for corporate bribes,

take the robes away,

and see the strings being tugged,

and upon the catwalk,

hidden not so well,

dollars puppeteer,

beneath its black ensemble.

The Poetry Conundrum part 2: Midnight

I don’t usually post anything about my own goings on, you know…. cos my life is boring. But here I am again, in the poetry conundrum. It’s about midnight, and I sit here, smiling as I type away, my scrambling to random places.


Thoughts dashing this way and that,

How does this happen,

Especially rapid thoughts seem to come mind, Continue reading