¶ as i shouldered your heart ⎟ PEA

Screen Shot 2016-04-03 at 9.50.25 PM

I was walking down the path,
as I shouldered your
crumbling heart.
You pushed against me
about to fly like loose leaves
along the wind.

The slow tortoise winked,
the moose battered his antlers,
the crows screeched in warning,
their fear drawing us nearer
into clearer darkness of the
faded day.

We stop to settle and sup,
as the sun’s last rays tickled
the tops of leafless trees.
A small fire to keep us warm,
I hold your heart in my hand.

You run with the fire of life
and of joy.
I pick up the pieces,
humbly loving your spirit.
You fly in the wind,
threatening to leave,
but your warmth and goodness
keeps you here with me.

Such a big heart determined to race,
round corners,
round bends,
and back from the moon.
“It’s such a big, big world,”
I whisper in your ear,
“The world’s not ready
for you to disappear, yet.”

On we must trot or night will
gobble us all–
Once again,
I shoulder your heart,
Your soul is nestled,
And my heart is full.
But what about days,
when I’m left all alone, dear?
I want you to stay,
to be here with me forever.

The tortoise has slowed to
walk us to safety,
The bucking moose has lent us
his powerful antlers,
The crows scream in murders
to frighten the night.

I hold you in my arms
as tears slip away,
We walk into the warmth
of the hearth and the home,
We drink teas and snack on
honeyed-peanut butter;
Raspberries for tortoise,
Grass for dear moose,
Charms for the crows,
who resent the implication.

Let’s slip into the darkness,
the safe one with dreams,
where it is okay that less
is more than it seems.

 

–fin

Links: http://poets.ca/2016/02/08/national-poetry-month-2016/


Heaps of love,

wordplay xx

Patreon-logo

Want to leave a tip in the hat?

Please consider donating to my Patreon page.

Connect with me elsewhere:

  facebook   twitter  Youtube  instagram  Tumblr-Icon  goodreadsScreen Shot 2015-10-08 at 10.14.44 PM

¶ Sweetest Spring and Evergreens ⎟ PEA

Screen Shot 2016-04-03 at 9.50.25 PM

There is a gentle breeze
That ruffles dreams;
It smells of sweetest spring
and evergreens.
It never wavers but
Kisses cherubic, weightless clouds,
and stimulates subtle
memory.

Hold your hand up to its path,
Feel your spindly fingers dance,
Light as thoughts,
Free as love,
Comfort, and mindful serenity.
Smell its past and lingering tales
as you fully breathe
your mortality.

Sun streams through lashes
and closing eyes,
Whilst laughter churns from
deep within.
Light as air and happy child,
Who’d have thought,
it was just air?

The earth sighs in meditative
suspiration, as we move around
the galaxy.
The stars are past,
as we are passed,
and dust settles over youth
quite fast.

In times of old, and times
to come, the breeze sets sail
as souls swim by,
Raise your hand
up to their path,
They make your fingers dance
as they sing
‘Good Day’!

Relax into grass, that
folds beneath you.
Listen as it crumples.
Millions of tiny springs,
that support your body
and usher in new life.
Breathe in the breeze
that tariffs dulcet tones,
and passes them onto
abject pilgrims.

There was a day,
when you were sad,
but honeyed hues coloured
your hearing eyes;
Recall the dreams
Of weightless flight, and
dream sweet dreams,
my dear, tonight.

–fin

Links: http://poets.ca/2016/02/08/national-poetry-month-2016/


Heaps of love,

wordplay xx

Patreon-logo

Want to leave a tip in the hat?

Please consider donating to my Patreon page.

Connect with me elsewhere:

  facebook   twitter  Youtube  instagram  Tumblr-Icon  goodreadsScreen Shot 2015-10-08 at 10.14.44 PM

In Time, You’ll Be⎟ PEA

Screen Shot 2016-04-03 at 9.50.25 PM

Sometimes, there is lack,
A lack that likes to remind you it’s there,
It wants to be acknowledged, nurtured, and loved.
But sometimes you want to ignore
the lack.
Getting over it has a knack,
It’s a skill I lack.

Sometimes, there is a wound,
Salt and dirt live there,
They dance to the beat of my heart,
As it works
furiously to heal.
But on, they dance.

Often, there is a hush,
It comes in slowly,
It never leaves in a rush.
You may have time to fill your lungs,
Or scream out your anger
So loud your voice cracks.

Often, there is a dream,
Frequently ignored;
to be suppressed by the lack,
that makes its home
crushing your heart.

Some days, there is an itch,
When you scratch,
you bruise skin,
The outer shell cracks,
And leaves you grim.
Plaster yourself back together,
Make yourself whole again.

Some days, there is a tiredness,
It hides under darkened eyes,
It announces itself with a depressed
lions roar.
You fuel yourself with coffees,
Snack on cakes, and sweet  teas,
Sometimes, those are the best days.

One day, there might be a sun beam,
That shines on your heart,
It sends growth throughout your soul,
It lightens your load,
It fills your lack,
So it feels more like
a history
that’s past.

One day, there will be lines,
That mark your path,
Engraved upon your thin
skin.
Lines, counted, reveal your
capacity to love
and the rich stories,
that you sink into as you fall
asleep.

–fin

Links: http://poets.ca/2016/02/08/national-poetry-month-2016/

 


Heaps of love,

wordplay xx

Patreon-logo

Want to leave a tip in the hat?

Please consider donating to my Patreon page.

Connect with me elsewhere:

  facebook   twitter  Youtube  instagram  Tumblr-Icon  goodreadsScreen Shot 2015-10-08 at 10.14.44 PM

That of which I am made ⎟ PEA 2016

Screen Shot 2016-04-03 at 9.50.25 PM
I’m just not feeling it,
As you dance to the chart-hit,
Your smile is misleading,
And it’s you I am needing,
But your eyes sway faster
Than hips, who’re you after?

If I leave now,
And you, I disavow,
Will I lose myself,
As I detach from yourself?
Will I break into pieces,
My new heart a prosthesis?

Coz your hunger increases,
As my self-worth decreases,

You crook your finger at me,
I smile; I dare not flee,
For your spell catches my knees,
You’re my addiction, my disease;
You look into my eyes,
I tremble through your lies:

You whisper love and desire,
I’ll surely burn on this pyre,
Barely holding onto life,
As you plunge in the knife,
Twisting and turning its tip,
With a fast and strong grip,

Your hips sway to the beat,
Your voice is so sweet,
But I’m just not feeling it,
As you dance to the chart-hit.

I want a new chance,
I, too, want to dance,
With joy and freedom
and equality,
With a them that is them,
and a me that is free,

So I push off your hold,
Daring for freedom is rather bold,
Alas, I breathe nectar of sugared hope,
Glad to be untethered, cut free, from the rope
That tied me down, like a lead-weighted
balloon, anxiety and depression slowly abated,

I swim in the ocean,
Healed by a magical self-taught potion,
Laced with one’s sovereignty,
Happiness by degrees,
Ginger and spice,
And everything nice…

That’s what little girls are made of.

 

Poetry Month ⎟ Poem Everyday in April (PEA)

Dear Reader,

I haven’t uploaded any poems lately, which is unusual for me because I normally write quite a lot. In Canada, April is National Poetry Month. I am going to be posting one poem a day, *crosses fingers*, alongside my posts on Great Expectations. If it gets confusing, just follow the menu at the top of the page; it should help you find you way. I’m just imagining a Homeward Bound scene where my beloved animals search for me, against peril and the sadness of losing their human. Poor poopehs. My pup is currently snoozing on my bed. (P.S she fell off my bed last night, whilst rearranging her blankets. I don’t even know what woke me up, the fall or her crying to be let back up. Apparently, my decorating skills are flawed. Misha will educate me from here on out).

In honour of the little baby-face, I will write a limerick about her.

The Mishanator

There once was a shitzu called Misha,
She won’t fetch, but she gives paw,
She loves to sleep in my, or is it her, bed,
From top to bottom is her tiny form spread,
For possession is 9/10ths property law.

IMG_7748

Heaps of love,

wordplay xx

Patreon-logo

Want to leave a tip in the hat?

Please consider donating to my Patreon page.

Connect with me elsewhere:

  facebook   twitter  Youtube  instagram  Tumblr-Icon  goodreadsScreen Shot 2015-10-08 at 10.14.44 PM

Rethinking the Discourse of Active Children ⎜#Participaction

tumblr_inline_mih2heshn11qz4rgpThe narrative emerging out of Canadian news outlets today is that Canadian parents are holding their children hostage from the great Canadian outdoors. The Participaction Report claimed that 9/10 Canadian children were not active enough, and they gave a D- to the nation. The advice they gave rings clear as a bell from our televisions (ironic), stop letting your kids sit idly in front of the TV and allow them to go outside. The narrative is telling Canadian parents that they are not doing enough. It is blaming them for letting their children sit and do nothing. It is saying, you are not doing enough and you are not enough.

Let’s just reconsider this discourse. It seems more likely that 9/10 Canadian parents cannot afford to put their children in extra-curricular activities. It seems more likely that 9/10 Canadian parents cannot be there to drive their children around town or out of town for sports competitions. It seems likely that Participaction has forgotten that these things are extremely expensive. Many parents cannot remortgage a house to pay for equipment, gas to go to the games, money to repair the car (if you even have one), or the time away from work.

As much as Participaction wants the narrative to be about just taking your kids outside…it cannot be. There are wider considerations that need to be taken into account. Parents who work long hours, may find it difficult to find the time to provide the cookie-cutter fitness routine the government prescribes. Just go to a park?! Well, the school field/park near my house used to have a swingset, but that’s gone. Many parks become fill quite quickly, too.

And, sure, there are some parents who are just lazy. Fine, we’ll point our fingers at them, tell them to get their couch-potato natures in shape and do a monster-mash into fitness, but that isn’t representative of all parents. Most parents and people are tired. Most parents and people cannot afford a lot of things. Most parents and people are overly stressed. Now the government is openly telling them that they aren’t doing their fundamental job as parents.

Do not be so hasty, government, I’m here to tell you, you’ve done yours poorly: We need to reconsider this discourse of active children in more nuanced terms than just blaming the parents. Perhaps better funding at schools and for teachers!! would produce more after-school programming for children to take part in. Perhaps raising minimum wages and stopping corporations from offering only part-time or contract works would allow parents to have more stable incomes and, if not more money to enable activity for their children, more energy to spend time being fit with their children. Perhaps job security in creative fields? Perhaps we should look at the larger issue at hand instead of telling parents that they need to take their children out, like a puppy at pee-time. It also seems clear that, alongside the socioeconomic issues, the gendering of sports impacts who plays and until what age. These are the issues I expect my government to be discussing. These are the issues on which I expect my educated and informed government to make headway.

Please don’t harken back to the good ole days before computers and iPhones. That argument is not fitting. Many children were active in the ‘good ole’ days because they were helping out on farms or in household labour. In short, many were contributing to the household income. This again points to parents needing more support and compassion, rather than a government telling them that you just need to take your children to a park.

Going to a park is sound advice. It is a small step for many who feel that many things are, otherwise, out of their reach or grasp. It might be a small start. But, unless our government begins to create affordable childcare (where children are being active), invests in schools so teachers can more readily incorporate physically-active curricula, and empathizes with busy, underpaid parents, your words are going to fall quicker than the mercury in a Canadian winter on tired ears.

The reason I chose Jan Steen’s c.1665 painting, So the Old Sing, So Twitter the Young, to illustrate this post is to counter the idea that many parents and families are living in an opulent age of technology comparable to the wealth of the Dutch in the seventeenth century. The ones who live those opulent lifestyles are very few, and if children are addicted to their screens trying to emulate these peoples…it has less to do with their parents trying to force them away from those screens but more to do with the fact that, even to children, wealth is enviable. Want. “I want that.” Most consumable things are marketed to children because they “want.” Parents are inundated with marketing campaigns targeted at their children. Bright lights, flashing colours, bold pinks and blues—gendering children’s wants and desires.

So…maybe, government, make things a little easier for parents. Rethink your ideas on affordable childcare and your monolithic class-sizes. That, I think, will have the longest-lasting effect on how active children—to their greatness or their detriment.

#StopBlamingTheParents

WordPlay Xx

Connect with me elsewhere:
facebooktwitter YoutubeinstagramTumblr-Icon goodreads