Monthly Archives: January 2013

Indig Nation

My indignation grows with each revelation

Unparked parks whose parts are partway out the door

Riches of the land given away

Not for posterity but for an economic bump

Or quiet transfers to numbered accounts

Hidden deep within layered deposits of plundered gold

In this in dig nation

Where shovel ready corporations

Dig new troughs

Through watersheds and wilderness

Tracking mud and tarsands through the vestibule of nature’s cathedral

All for bottom line smiles for the few who reap corrupt rewards

While most of us don’t know what’s going on or going down

Used as we are to mediocre reportage that’s little more than spin

So we revolve to the beat of the boardroom

We get spun to whims of cold-eyed ledger predators

And watch as economists and financiers repossess what wasn’t mortgaged

But they’ll take it anyway with the blessing of rightwing ideologues

Who steal public resources for short-term greed

Carving up the country like a holiday turkey

And call for tax cuts or as they say, gravy

While my indignation changes into heartburn

From indigestible giveaways to the bloated

While too many go hungry and thirsty

Or rot in the jails of circumstance



David Trudel  © 2013



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Victoria Idle No More

I wear my medicine bundle on this trek

A universe contained around my neck

A flake of the rock that rolled Sisyphus

Midnight warmth of a lover’s kiss

Seven dreams undreamt

A perfect snowflake


It gives me strength


I join the ragtag muster of this armless army

Whose weapons are but peace and righteous dignity


My passion is not as bitter as the cold drizzle

Yet there is enough bitter passion to go around

My settler feet fumble through the rounddance

Her hands fly up like birds to throbbing drumbeats

Songs that pull power up and out of the earth

Through the chests of the chanting elders in button blankets

And spongeyoung apprentices taking up ancient beats

From places whose names flow like poetry

Esquimalt, Gitksan, Ahousaht, Haisla, Songhees, Nisga’a, Qualicum

Songs that reverberate off the closed doors of government

Into the hearts of us all

Feeling the power of these words that connect to the memory of this place

Since displaced but never erased

Original needs no title to be authentic

Now is the time to support authenticity

Of people

Of place

So we come together in this parade of weaponless warriors

Fed by desperation

Sparked by indignation

To simply say that we’ll be idle no more

Because idleness is complicit in oppression

So raise a feather and be

Idle No More



David Trudel   ©  2013



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Spoken Word

Click on the link for a video of me doing some Spoken Word.  At my daughter’s wedding reception, no less!



Filed under Passing Thoughts


Through a tunnel of gnarled branches garlanded with moss

She reveals herself

I am startled by the beauty of this tunnel vision

Fulsome goddess of the night


Waxing towards the full wolf moon

When the howls of the hungry grow sharp and ready to bite

Into the deepening dusk

She wears the washed out blue of the wintry sky like a holy mantle


As the dusky blue fades into graying shades

Each shadow on the distant surface grows crisp

Up, up she rises

Ascending her arc to balance the pull of those pinprick stars

And in that balance exert her own pull

On tides and blood and mood

Counting each repetition with predictable precision

Never late

Her face is clear and never needs makeup

So she doesn’t linger but glides with stately grace

Across the panoply of space

Reflecting the benediction of the sun

More than mirror she is balance

And unbalance

Beacon for lovers and the lost


Celestial calendar that needs no illustrations or mortal numbers

Dependable as tomorrow

Full of promises

Night’s goddess


David Trudel   ©  2013




Filed under Poetry


There is no revelation for me today

No cosmic insight

No intercession by celestial angels

Just another breath to take

One more step along the way

And if I pause to ponder

Maybe its just prevarication

Some kind of hesitation

Or simply procrastination

Which is a specialty of mine

I readily admit to

But I’m more of a generalist

Than a high paid specialist

So maybe this lack of inspiration

Just means I need a second opinion

Because my diagnosis is ambiguous

And clouded by imprecision

Since revelations continue to unwind

Just not here, in my lonely little mind



David Trudel  ©  2013



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Which thread is the one to worry loose

Then to pull until it all unravels

This fabric called life but meaning the familiar way

What we accept as ordinary

Even as we rationalize insanity

And trade hollow promises for forlorn hope

Surrendering time and trouble for bread and fishes

Giving up our own volition for the cold comfort of diversion

Misdirections and distractions meant to cloud and obfuscate

While we allow the pristine walls around our hearts to be tagged

With epithets of rancid hate scrawled past midnight by the delirious crowd

Whipped into a frenzy by the rhetoric of false prophets

Spewing fire and brimstone fears

Barking with bared teeth to corral us all

Or nip at our exposed flanks and heels to send us into the feedlot chute

Where we’ll be nailed and if you aren’t cross

Then you don’t understand the sacrifice

That we are all making by attrition and submission

To the nightmare dream of unholy fences

That perverts the promise of paradise

Into ordinary insanity that we call reality

So find a loose thread on the straitjacket to pull

Give it a yank and lets watch everything unspool



David Trudel  ©  2013





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Sacred Mysteries

The sacred mysteries of my life are not found in churches

Or in the holy books of churches

Not even ivory ivied towers of reasoned thought suffice

To hold my mysteries

My mysteries are not concrete objects to be pinned down like rare butterflies

Instead they are ineluctable treasures

Skies painted with sunset hues

A lover’s gaze

The synchronicity of coincidence

Soaring chords of scintillating majesty

Warm touches

Smiles in the face of adversity





These are the mysteries I hold sacred

And if I don’t understand them completely or at all

It doesn’t matter

They are complete without my inadequate analysis

Tarnishing the brassy sheen of their beauty

So I accept them with wonder and delight

David Trudel   ©  2013

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