Monthly Archives: May 2013

Half Smile, Squared


In the complex simplicity of a half smile

When someone assumes someone’s discussion


You plot the course of a narrative

The four winds of the ocean’l find the enigwa


That sings mystery and allure


To know you take me mulch further, first draw midnite out


Promises mutually assured seduction

In and out of the adore that May’ll bumbasheer in obsession


Hints at boredom and ennui


Buttoned onto a how about it, kind of wheel-wzz got out of what mind to observe it!


Foreshadows betrayal


It’s rush at, Like a woman the jewel is dying with


All in the moment our eyes lock


It’s top-dollar-holler high in the hands jewel and factuulum at clutch


In a loaded look between us

And say’n, hollow?


Without a single word

Cold you take me jewelries handing how its abdomen underlane our rovering hell to who out-bungee I again landing your bicupcyucle!


We know


            Too adhere at what upper-woods the take further, listen to when, at wait and said comes as me closer to the giving-eye thrust to lot the skins



David Trudel   and Dave Taylor   © 2013



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Half Smile

In the complex simplicity of a half smile

You plot the course of a narrative

That sings mystery and allure

Promises mutually assured seduction

Hints at boredom and ennui

Foreshadows betrayal

All in the moment our eyes lock

In a loaded look between us

Without a single word

We know



David Trudel  © 2013



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Everything that ever was

Still is

Everything that ever will be

Is present now

Matter is irreducible at the smallest level

But it keeps changing




Our bodies rebuild themselves

Over and over throughout our lives

Organic life is all a process of becoming

Even the rocks we stand on are absorbed and eroded

Beneath the thin crust of the surface

A crucible of fiery creation mixes new recipes

From ingredients that never grow stale

Each fragment carries memories and dreams

Points on a wheel

That keeps turning

David Trudel   ©  2013

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The unintended consequences of civilization spill out into reality

Setting up the anthropocalypse which looms over our future

Ironically, civilization was seen as the planet’s healer

Carefully shepherding nature into something new and improved

Giving proof, we thought, of our superiority

Validating our entitlement to have dominion over everything else

But it seems like the patient is suffering iatrogenesis

Taken ill with the flesh eating disease of runaway capitalism

Starving on empty calories while becoming morbidly obese

We drain our aquifers to water golf courses in the desert

Cut down rainforests to factory farm cattle for fast food burgers

Building monuments to consumption like oceanic garbage gyres

Blindly buying crap we don’t need made by slaves we don’t see

We live on borrowed credit in houses which are bigger than we need

While others shelter in improvised shacks

Or get swallowed up into prisons to be drafted into gangs

We poison the water, the land and the air

And wonder why things aren’t the same anymore

We let democracy fade away through apathy

As corporate plutocracy takes control

Instead of rising up and declaring our own sovereignty

We sit back and watch performers pretend that life is good

We amuse ourselves vicariously and identify with illusions

Through inaction we turn ourselves into ghosts who scare nobody but ourselves

As civilization sickens into the decadence of the dying

Infected by fear and paralyzed by our lack of vision



David Trudel  ©  2013



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I find my world disordered and undone

Reference points no longer apply the way they did

Rules have been stretched and broken so often

They have been shadowed into dim memory

So I recalibrate my moral compass

Against those of the political and corporate elite

I recalculate the depths of horror to vicariously endure

Against the streets of Mogadishu and Damascus

I index my feelings and emotions to this world

That serves up extremes of good and evil

Punctuated by interminable waiting

But in order to find to what degree the Nth is today

I need to baseline truth against beauty

Measure the depth of midnight when you’re all alone

Figure out what new shock deserves a scream or a tear

In this world of today

Where so much cruelty is served up on the table of commerce

Where miracles are commonplace even as sins proliferate

In this world that contains both heaven and hell

Whose borders shift and overlap

Leaving those of us who play the margins in a dim frontier

Unsure of limits and definitions and meanings

Constantly recalibrating perceptions



David Trudel    ©  2013



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Song From The Big House

The scent of woodsmoke clings to me

Like a spirit not ready to let go of this world

Not from fear but out of love

Holding on to memories that reverberate

To the beat of the round drum

And the stamp of bare feet on a dirt floor

In a place that echoes the past into the present

Where dances are sacramental offerings

Shared with ghosts who linger in the dust

Raised by each footfall

Even though we applaud we know this isn’t a performance

But a moment to let spirits intermingle

Bathed in smoke that permeates our souls

Dusted with earth that has witnessed degradation and despair

Seen attempts at genocide collide with patient persistence

Until old songs are given new voice

And old voices are heard with new understanding

To the beat of ancestral hearts witnessing truth

In the flicker of flames that never died out

That burn on into the tomorrow of today



David Trudel   ©  2013



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I try to see you as you are, not as I imagine you to be

Having idealized too many too often before

Your reality needs no photo shopping from my imagination

Because the beauty in my eye as I behold you is real enough

I resist the urge to fantasize about what might be

To focus on what is, today

And if there are possibilities for the future

I won’t dwell on them

Like with those clouds rolling in from the horizon

There’s nothing I can do to squeeze rain

From those airborne reservoirs

So I wait patiently for floods or drought

Ready for experience to teach me a lesson

When I think of you, I quell the fires of enthusiasm

Dampening dancing flames to smoldering embers

Waiting for you to add some fuel

Instead of overheating at a bonfire that burns too bright too fast

Serving as a warning beacon for careful navigators to avoid

Which is somewhat disingenuous I realize

Since I stand on rocks enough to sink a fleet

But in the bright light of a clear day they’re obvious

So if you can find your way past obstacles

And if I reduce my expectations to warm affection

Perhaps we can find ourselves a place to be a plural pronoun




David Trudel   ©  2013




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