Monthly Archives: March 2013

Preview

Barely into spring along comes a preview of summer

A day that melts chocolate into fondue moments

Breezes that freshen but barely cool

So warm everyone unlayers to minimal threads

On the road, convertibles are a common envy

Their drivers made glamorous by the rolling role

While the rest of us crank down the windows

Or crank up air conditioners

Feeling toasted inside metal walls

Still, its too early to think of complaining of the heat

This welcome return after a long hibernation

We smile at the coming attractions

Waiting for summer blockbusters to follow

 

 

David Trudel    ©  2013

 

 

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Kiss

Although we trade suggestive comments

We are so far apart

It’s safe

Even though we both know it’s not

I can imagine your thinlipped kiss

Filling me to distraction

Realizing that if ever there was a chance

I’d be hip to hip

Grinding

I’d be well past the introduction

At hello

Tongues intertwining

Voices weaving words into tapestries

Masterpieces castlebound

When others look at our love and exclaim

That should be framed

We’ll already be unbound

Undone and done

Over and over

Just the way I imagine

Your hip curving

Against me

As dawn fills itself

Illuminating love

Unbordered and unrestrained

 

 

David Trudel    © 2013

 

 

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Deer

A deer leapt through the brush

Thunderlanding a few meters away

Relieved more than alarmed

I walked forward on my downwind path

Obliquely away from the deertrail

Which calmed the deer

Who was looking ahead

At the other one that I hadn’t noticed at first

Stock still against rocks and trees

I was relieved

Not having seen deer here for some time

One species among many that call this forest home

Or way station for island hopping windriders

So when they started grazing on rare native fawn lilies

I was only mildly pissed off

And sent them a psychic entreaty to curb their appetites

Until dusk shrouds surrounding suburban streets

Where gardeners obligingly plant deer salad

A raw deal

 

 

David Trudel   ©  2013

 

 

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In The Garden Of Your Mind

Fred Rogers was a gardener of young minds

Planting seeds with greenthumbed assurance

Calmly waiting for nature to take its course

Never in a rush

Like we are mostly

Not wanting to plant seeds but buy hothoused plants

Already grown

Not wanting to learn lessons of experience

Or experience small attempts of repetitive failure

Since we’ve learned to value self-esteem above wisdom

Which isn’t very wise

Or even as smart as we think

But then again, how many of us take the time to think

Instead we short circuit nature through shortcuts

Too busy to observe reality

So we live in delusional fantasies

Where we think buying a floral bouquet makes us green

Or self-absolve our collective guilt through signing online petitions

All the while contributing to this excessive consumerism

This insanity that’s driving us to the edge

Which we don’t see because of that delusional mindset we bought into

So we don’t hit the brakes

When the lemmings up ahead cliffjump into annihilation

It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood

David Trudel   ©  2013

 

Prompted by this PBS Digital Studios remix of Fred Rogers:

 

 

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Sovereignty

My sovereignty is my own

Beginning and ending at bodymind borders

I rule my own mind and no others

There are none I swear fealty to

In some medieval ritual of submission

What limited control I have over my physical body

Ends at my extremities

And if sometimes I can influence others

Control is not anything to aspire to

Since I’m busy enough keeping myself in check

Unruling the anarchy of my mad thoughts and contradictions

It is enough to be my own master and slave

Never abdicating responsibility for my own behavior or attitude

Or subject to the tyranny of others

My sovereignty is my own

A limited kingdom of singularity

Despotic in self-discipline

Seditious in errant thoughts

Creating my own ceremonies with serious amusement

While my ego breaks down into strutting courtiers

Who pander to baser instincts and shiny eyed pride

So I leave off building castles

To build self awareness

And cloak myself in goldclothed tranquility

 

 

David Trudel   ©  2013

 

 

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Blackened

First you see them as hints

They come into closer view

And you think roadkill corpses

But it’s really just another exploded tire

Kind of like online posts

Lumbering 18 wheelers who occasionally let one loose

Passing gassilly

Passing gas silly

Leaving a blackened remembrance of your passing

On the littered roadside

Blown, literally

Living on as scattered bits of used to be

Souvenirs of unfortunately

 

 

David Trudel  ©  2013

 

 

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These Days

If these are the end times, as biblically foretold

Or just the bubble of civilization approaching its burst

From climate change

Or the breakdown of dysfunctional political corporatism

Let’s appreciate them, the end times

Let’s make love as often as possible

Let’s love these days

These rare days when everyone with privilege across the globe

Can buy the same perfect apples in air-conditioned sameness

These commonplace days of global luxuries

Where winter just means having to fly your strawberries in from across the globe

Appreciate the luxuries that may not be around much longer

Since there seems to be sufficient portents to nudge me towards gloom

Thinking doom and doomsday plots

As reports flood in of massive ice melts, methane gas releases, shrinking glaciers

While dystopian planners hunker down in pinched fear gearing up for a fast ride to hell

And failed states release terror into the shipping lanes

Failed rulers cling noose tight to power with blood red iron fingertips

Overhead strange signs appear

Like grid patterns of chemtrails crossing lines from secrecy to sin

Leaving us at the mercy of a tainted wind

Droves of us mill about in sheepled delusions

Brainwashed by selective education and finely crafted propaganda

Called popular culture

Our behaviour manipulated to ensure submission into complicity

But understanding the inherent flaws in this grand monoculture

There’s still some room for righteous hedonism on the way out

Because there is a lot to be savored in this shimmer

And if there is some apocalyptic descent into chaos

Waiting in ambush around the next bend

Don’t we owe it to everyone to use every possible pleasure to its limit

And if this scrap survives beyond whatever ultimate disaster takes us out

To be read by some far futured survivor picking up pieces

To you I say, it was fucking awesome to be alive at the apex

 

 

David Trudel   © 2013

 

 

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Sculptural Pieces

Weathered rocks scoured by ice and time

Derelict trees tumbled into dreams

Ripplesanded shorelines studded by rockshreds

Swayedback barns leaning into fallow fields

Rusted ratrods posing in jumbled yards

Skylines that pull you into horizons

Jig jaggedly climbing into impossibilities

Fences marking space and time

Held up or supporting a spray of twigged greenness

Invitations of benches

Offering views into eternity

Alterations made by serendipity or intention abound

Three dimensionally textured magic

Filling my thirst for the spectacular

Wherever I find the unexpected and sublime

I smile with intention

Breathe in and send an exhalation of applause

In the general direction of found art

Or art that’s found me

 

 

David Trudel    ©   2013

 

 

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