red roses scattered
the shore a silent witness
gulls keen overhead
David Trudel © 2014
red roses scattered
the shore a silent witness
gulls keen overhead
David Trudel © 2014
Filed under Haiku
leaves growing green
deeper than lost shadows
birdsong soundtrack
bleached driftwood sleeping
blanketed by swaying grass
a chorus of frogs
the pull of the beach
an ocean mesmerized
toes curl in the sand
blossoms punctuate
this animated landscape
spring revelation
intertidal echoes
resonate against the sand
gulls soar overhead
David Trudel © 2014
Filed under Haiku
one day I’ll run through the mall
shouting Fuck You Saint Valentine
patron saint of the beautiful, the privileged
you’re a tease, a fiction
spreading hope, packaged passion
Fuck You Hallmark cards
perpetuating a myth of receptive possibilities
promoting expectations
one phrase at a time
Fuck You Harlequin Romances
happy endings all tidied up
measured passion
not the snarls of our lives
Fuck You Hollywood
avalanche of romantic comedies
soundtracks swollen with strings
when all some of us hear is the croak
of Tom Waits at two in the morning
Fuck You Saint Valentine
glossing over the childrens’ labour
sweetly boxed
Fuck You mall wanderlings
I’m tired of happy passion
animated Barbie and Ken dolls
buying underwear for each other
Saint Rita!
patron saint of loneliness
of forgotten causes
a saint for the chronically alone
a saint without P.R.
So Fuck You Saint Valentine
I’m over your sweet promises
I’ll plead my case to Saint Rita
on her feast day I’ll take myself out to lunch
and I won’t be disappointed
David Trudel © 2014
Filed under Poetry
in darkness I wake
to the light of your soul
illuminating mine
David Trudel © 2014
Filed under Haiku
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
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Filed under Poetry
Tagged as anthropocalypse, apocalypse, blank verse, climate change, creative writing, creativity, drought, end days, end of civilization, end of the world, environmentalism, forest fires, free verse, global warming, inspiration, metaphor, natural history, pestilence, plagues, poetry, prose poetry, sadness, social activism, social commentary, tranquility, truth, universal peace, wildfires