Tag Archives: end days

sepia toned

we woke up sepia toned

not drained of colour but transformed into shimmers


light lays flat

yellowed as yesterday’s bloodied sun

slipped sideways on a once upon


we call each other asking

“do you see it too?”

and words like apocalypse

like endtimes, like otherworldly

fill our mouths as the sky fills our thoughts


later, waiting for the ferry

I walk the beach up to and under the dock

crosshatched shadows feed the noontime reek of creosote

triggering memories of campfires

then all I smell is the smoke of a carbon sink

a million trees candled in the wind

a burning world

riding thermals down every seaward valley on the coast

until each wave pushes another dragon under


we try to laugh about how strange it looks

as the sun reddens its shroud


today is marked in black

this is the year when winter thins its cool

no matter how golden the sky seems right now

or how wonderful splintered light appears slipping through ashfall

this is no celebration

this is not the same as other years

when autumn slashpiles streamed pendants


today is amber

a moment to hold long enough to remember

how startled we once were




David Trudel     © 2015



Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Dies Irae

“Day of wrath and doom impending,

David’s words with Sybil’s blending,

Heaven and earth in ashes pending”

Translation by William Josiah Irons, 1849


Dancing through this paradoxical paradise

As heaven and hell keep cutting in on each other

We listen to the universal song play out

Basso profondo to soprano and all the rest between

This cosmic tune speaks volumes but matters not

Except to guide us to the dies irae of finality

A judgment on universal mortality

And if we feel trepidation as the final chorus sounds

Let’s remember that rapturous transcendence

Is part of the final arrangement

So let the grim foreboding of annihilation pass

Concentrate instead on the glory of the forgotten chord

Strummed into being at the moment of creation

Resounding still inside us all

Inside the quiet of a sublime mind

In the look that passes between lovers

Or the gentle touch of every mother

So when the final trumpet blows

Embrace the sound of truthful joy

Let it lift your spirit and your self

Into the moment of reward



David Trudel     ©  2013



Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

These Times

These are the days of remembrance

When all the yesterdays run backwards

Unspooling into starlight


These are the times of unclocked hopes

Times of desires and dreams

These moments are singularly fluid as they flow together

Washing over us

Sweeping us up in this unchecked flood


These are the days screaming of terror

Days of torment and torture

Days of lies and betrayals

Nailed with outrage

With the evil of indifference holding the hammer


These are the moments of indecision

When greed pleads to just keep on doing



This is the moment of truth

This is the moment of untethered freefall

Plummeting from the edge of nowhere into hard fact

Knowing that an impact of some proportion is imminent


These are the days of chaotic destruction

These are the days of growth and creation

These are the everydays

Timeless times of everything bad and everything good

Running parallel in M.C. Escher mystery loops


These are the moments that get stitched together into patterns

Only to come unraveled and undone

These days are as permanent as a Tibetan sand mandala

Brushed and broomed into a corner


These are the days of remembrance

When all the yesterdays run backwards

Unspooling into starlight



David Trudel  ©  2013



Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry