Remaining Corpse

A boy once told me that he would never leave as my best friend,
he'd stay talking to me for a long period of time,
even if he moved away.

But things change. And everything fell between the gates.
Without a goodbye, without a hesitation,
he vanished in thin air,
leaving me with his corpse to hold.

And though he talks to my brother,
spending nights with him til the wee hours of morning,
my ears don't hear anything.
My phone remains silent with the screen a midnight black,
with no shining star to read as it glows.
Nothing.

And so it kind of is a strange feeling.
Someone you were so close with,
keeping you as a memory far back in the brain
that when he hears your name,
nothing triggers.
nothing happens.
everything just remains.

Little Town Imagery

As I fell shapeslessly from the sky,
I passed by all the different
scenaries at such a different pace.
The edging trees letting go
of its leaves like a mother
letting go of her children.
The waterfall cascading down
with that little brown deer
peering up at me.

Thud.

And I land on the rocky ground,
picking shreds of long, green grass.
Something makes me want to move,
and not take in this overwhelming area.
As I stand up and feel just tall enough
to stretch up and reach the clouds
floating in the ocean blue sky,
something grasps me,
vigoursly.
Pulling at me with every muscle
of their body.

What is this?
Why does it feel like I'm nowhere?
There's no houses or extravagant dancing lights,
like my busy never to be sleeping hometown.
I, a city girl, am not used to this calmness of nature,
with some birds gliding across the sky,
interfering with the transparent clouds.
The whistle of the flowers swaying in the
lightest breeze I have ever felt,
makes me feel a little more calmer.

But then the hand pulls on me again,
and all the flowers have vanished into
empty chip bags and toxic-less pop bottles.
The waterfall is just a tower of boxes,
paper, magazines, tissues, and tuna cans.
The blue sky lost its sun,
lost its beauty,
lost the transparent clouds,
lost its color.
The blue sky I'm afraid, is now a smoggy grey.
The leaves of the tree on the ground are
nowhere to be found,
nowhere to be seen with the grass disappering.
And that little brown deer,
must have ran away too.

Rain - sound Poem.

The rain pelts pester upon my window.
Making me feel like sill will
snap all by itself.
They begin to creep closer to me
as I begin to feel uneasy.
Tension replaced relaxment,
calmness ended up being nerves,
which gave me the clammiest case
of hands you have
ever
felt.

I tell those pestering pelts of rain,
to go somewhere else but they
just
continue.
Spit. Spit. Spit.
Washing away,
the dreams that don't happen in a day.
Wishing,
that I slept on the other side.
In time those tedious drops
won't be found if i just have
perfect patience to give those pelts
time.

Home Canada, Home.

Home is where I can hold the
red and white falg high.
Home is where there is always
a hello wth a never lasting goodbye.
It's where I can walk the streets,
feeling protected and secure.
Placing my hand over my heart,
singing the anthemn with a joyful tear.

Home is laughing at all the stereotypes,
of saying aboot and riding polar bears.
Okay, so we say eh? after every
sentence, you caught us there.
Home is where you can slip on a
jersey and have street hockey game.
Making the sound of the goal horn,
because your team just scored.
Pushing all our hockey teams to victory,
wanting to be champions, we're never bored.

But here at home,
we're all together.
As one nation,
O Canada, forever.

Summer Me.

The feeling of hope, the feeling of love,
in summer it is never lost.
My favorite season, my favorite weather,
the sun bouncing off our musical laughter.
Fixed up in my jean jacket,
running around in pj shorts at night,
no one minding if we cause racket.

Because summer creates happiness,
that we take for granted.
And when summer dissappears,
our happiness disingrates with it.
All those days spent getting ice cream,
at beaches, malls because their cooler
than the outside, vacations,
and baseball games and amusment parks.

Summer, you make me smile.
You make me wake up and sleep with laughter.
Even when your saying goodbye to us at night,
your still one of the most beautiful things
I have ever laid eyes on.
On the creek, at the dock, or just on my street.
Summer, I can't stop looking at you.
And right now, I can't stop waiting for you.

Downtown's Dream

The camera propped up at the perfect angle,
getting a shot of beautiful Downtown.
The sun is like the spotlight,
stretching downwards to us.
Talking about the game in about
five hours time.
He was holding my dream.
My dream of talking about sports,
so much your brain will turn
into a sports encyclopedia.

So with my face split in half with
blue and green covering from the top
of my forehead to the very bottom
of my chin,
I looked up to the sky peeking
through the train tracks
and started to give myeself encouragement,
and maybe, just maybe.
A little to much excitment and hope.

Because do you ever feel that you really
really want something and you would
do mostly anything to get it?
That's how it felt in that moment.
And that moment,
stuck with me forever.

The Sandless Shore.

We must learn how to fail,
and not get our hopes up.
We must learn to ride the waves
until we reach the shore
and hit rock bottom
with no sand to save us.

We cannot stop just because
of one mishap.
We should just keep walking
in the direction of our dream,
but only harder
to make them see how much of a big
mistake they made.

So when you fall on the shore with
no sand, none at all,
keep walking north towards the
towering mountains,
and when you get a chance,
just leap in and start swimming.
Drown, breathe, try, practice.
Don't run out.