Thursday, April 17, 2014

from nowhere

a lawnmower drones
just over there
as I sit and breathe in the day.

I think of you
and I'm overcome in an instant,
guilty and grieving,
that feeling seemingly from nowhere,
sliding sideways into my heart,
all full of itself,

look where I find myself
hiding away here
after walking out your door
all those years ago -
such finality,
so unplanned.

you could hate me,
dismiss me,
but instead you tell me you love me -
you love me still,
despite my thoughtlessness,
my drunken stupidity.

I sit here while the breeze softly touches me
and I imagine it's your touch,
warm and pure.
I try to send myself back to you
while my secret, constant, paper-thin heart
belongs nowhere
except where you are.

"There is no refuge from memory and remorse
in this world - the spirits of our foolish
deeds haunt us, with or without repentance."

Gilbert Parker

Sunday, September 23, 2012


whispering to you in the silence
as the moon gives its slow gleaming
to the walls, the blankets, our bodies,
I tell you of all the times
I might have saved the world
but for the absence of control
the inability to organize
the realization of weakness and
such implacable impossibility.
your face on my chest
your hand cradling my head
as I say these words
your leg gathering moonlight and shadow
stirring and collecting it,
moving it to a place
where songs begin -
you cover me with it finally
moving so softly that the silence never stirs.

brushing my face with a kiss after my story
of the battles I've fought for sanity,
you tell me you love me,
the sound escaping from your perfect lips
like some song no one's heard before;
you tell me you understand
you tell me I'm a good man,
as you touch me and a feeling comes around us
like a blessing
and I give myself to you
and the light and the shadows.

as breathing slows and we separate
only far enough to see, to focus
on eyes and lips and not lose contact
with the places where songs begin
you whisper in silence
in softness you tell me of dreams
and fantasy fulfilled
and the final realization that all wishes come true
that we together could save the world
if we wanted,
while your hair under my hand
feels like a child's
and I can't stop myself from saying
"I've never loved another,"
and you laugh all low and small
and put your lips on mine -
your lips to mine you say,
"of course you haven't,"
and we laugh in   through   past   the contact
neither of us wants to break.

moonlight and shadow and our truth
our hearts open and gathering
harvesting - mixing and taking
from the folds of the night
bodies all at once
our hearts so open
to the reality of our love
our words, the strength in our eyes,
the urgency of our touch as we sing
amazed, amazing songs of reaching, releasing,
the rediscovery, finally,
of rightness and beauty,
this is beautiful
this is right.

then we drift together in the very comfort
of the bedrock, absolute reality of ourselves,
the indescribable oneness, something so sane,
a feeling like a blessing,
a thank you sentence in a book,
a gratitude that
this is where we've always been
this is where we stay
as long as we will
as long as we can
replenishing, returning to
you and I here
hearts open to moonlight
to shadows and
to the folds of the night.

Thursday, December 29, 2011


clock buzzing and
drifting awake from much needed sleep
alarmed and
suddenly afraid in Springtime
and epic cantos
backward but complete
running through both
my brain
my body (bloodstream a conduit
for mind to reflect)
mirror Huxley's

24 March 2003

Friday, December 02, 2011

so fast

very fast
too too fast
my car and I slide through the darkness
momentary glimpses there on the windshield
past images playing tricks as I turn yet another corner
so fast
me and my foot on the pedal
drifting through turns
frowning with the stupidity of this
but calling up all the time
these past images all jumbled
not wanting to lose the thread by slowing down
there are answers here
I'm sure of it...
too fast
stereo full up
racing racing; then
my children, my ex-wife, there all complete
brakes squealing, pulling over
and sitting all shudder and inhale
lights off
I cry
oh I weep
this pain far too great
I grieve for lost life, lost chance
lost love
and pull away slowly
my children calling to me
as they have for so long
their voices rolling with the wheels
asking me when
oh my dear God
when was I coming home?

14 August 1995

Saturday, September 03, 2011


Thoughts on Life

Perry Dale

April 28th, 2003

God is the slate on which our lives are written.

God is Love, God made the Earth in Love

and a desire to create Man in His image.

God is the Earth.

Love the Earth.

* Enjoy yourselves.

Work hard, play hard, and rest often.

There is all the time in the world, for everything.

* Hurry when you need to,

but go slowly when there’s no urgency.


* Balance is everything.

In the middle is moderation;

live there, and save privation and excess

for when they’re called for.

* Live in the Now.

You learned for, and about today, yesterday,

and you plan for tomorrow today.

Live in the present, it’s all you have.

In the NOW lives all of time.

* In conversation, divide words and silences evenly.

We learn and we teach by both talking to others

and listening to them.

In communication

we drive the engine of creation.

Communication is education.

* Our whole lives seem to be a search for some middle ground,

but the middle has a habit of moving every few minutes,

so be temporarily satisfied

with where you are

and how far you’ve progressed

toward that middle ground.

* When driving long distances, treat the trip

as if it was a job you enjoy,

and only work overtime if you’re not tired.

10 hours behind the wheel is plenty,

combined with rest stops

where there are trees.

* God cares for us.

That’s why He made dirt mainly soft

and put a carpet of vegetation on most of it,

so that when we fall to the ground,

by accident or on purpose,

9 times out of 10 it doesn’t hurt at all.

26 December 1995

* It is not in the owning of something,

but in the single encounter,

perhaps to be repeated,

but always to be remembered,

that we may possess something


* If we have but one visionary experience in life,

so may we carry such with us beyond life to that

which awaits us on the other side.

* We seek to know, to touch, to understand;

there are some things which can only be felt,

can only be believed -

from such thing Faith begins,

by such things Faith is nourished.

* There will come a day, quite soon I think,

when the interconnectedness of all things

will be understood by all that which comprises Mind.

28 December 1995

* Families sit in circles;

other groups or gatherings imitate

but rarely come close

to the same intimacy.

7 January 1996

* The walk of Faith is constant.

While sitting or resting on this walk,

in prayer and meditation,

one must be mindful of the necessity to rise quickly

and resume this walk,

lest one’s seat become too comfortable.

* In need, one has only to ask.

In pure desire, in the Love of God, staying alive is a given.

Only being alive presents difficulties.

For help, one need only ask, in Faith.

* Money’s not essential to a good life.

We play with money, like a toy.

Hate harboured in the heart is worthless,

while a smile can bring untold riches.

The exchange of money is a moronic sophistication of the barter system,

a perversion of the exchange of sustenance in all forms -

the give and take of that which enables life.

Money sucks.

15 January 1996

* As we approach the millennium, that all important, all inclusive date

on all our calendars, worldwide spiritual awareness grows steadily.

It is with this special awareness that the revolutionary system

of Mind Barter begins in earnest.

We must share what we know

in order to be ready when the final choice is presented us -

the dropping of the curtain or

the lifting of the veil.

* Be aware.

Lose all fears, and be aware.

We who sense the coming crisis, ultimate and seemingly all-powerful,

must come together as an army of awareness,

linking minds and bodies and becoming invulnerable

in complete communal sharing.

1 January 1996

* In the witness of another’s awakening to a special level of awareness,

this awakening dubbed “spiritual”

by those presumably operating from a state considered “wisdom”,

one’s own awakening is strengthened, shaken or stirred

from a state of rest.

So commences, and continues,

the process of Mind Barter,

the ultimate metaphysical exchange.

17 January 1996

* In this new life I have found in recovery,

there is no such thing as “importance”

in the exchange of information in conversation.

What is trivial to one can be earth-shaking to another.

The point is to converse, to share, such things

that seem pertinent;

in such a way, through such actions,

do we initiate contact and maintain

Mind Barter.

26 January 1996

* Those of us who,

more often than not,

find life a hard go

may occasionally find ourselves remembering

a time in our childhood when we were at peace;

we may be overcome by a strong desire

to return to that time,

or at least the circumstances that special time found us in.

There can be great comfort, great relief,

in the inner re-experience

of the conditions and surrounding associated with this childhood peace.

A return to innocence can at least remind us

of our very real capacity to be happy -

can assure us that we may yet be happy again.

8 February 1996

(from journal)

...constant, unconscious desire.

A drive, again today, to pull something from nothing;

to dip into a small wavelet from the seas

of that place where though comes from.

Something from nothing,

that creation we have been given the ability to engage in.

We create only because we live in

a miracle of creation.

We take for granted what we are surrounded by,

visible and invisible.

We feed on the invisible,

and most of us are never aware...

Thanks, God, for nothing.

Thanks for providing so much of it.

18 February 1996

* Mania, like depression, is a thing of the heart,

at least as much as a result of chemical imbalances of the brain.

Love affects our hearts long before our brains are aware

anything is going on.

It is the heart that demands that

the brain do something about the excesses of joy, of sadness.

The brain is most often surprised at this demand,

and in so many of us, overreacts.

Thus mania, thus depression.

And so we go on.

So we live.

18 March 1996

* Suicide

is the ultimate expression of those engaged in

habitual, casual obscenity.

22 March 1996

* It’s the mornings woken to grey skies,

and not blue,

that prove the mettle of a person.

To smile at grey skies is a guarantee

of easy joy under blue skies.

25 March 1996

* Prayer comes to mind at any time. While my night-time prayers can be long conversations between my God and me, often spoken aloud, day-time prayer can at times appear fully formed in thought, transferred quickly and easily to my heart, and released, sent on its way to whomever it is intended for, God or man. God hears, and knows, and carries these messages from my heart to the souls of those I love. I am free to do this whenever I wish. I have come to recognize prayer and its healing quality, and my responsibility to remember God’s constant readiness to listen and deliver my heart to my fellow man. In prayer, I can touch anyone at any time, from any distance. Soul to soul, as we all are, God’s enormous gift to all of mankind, our small taste of Eternity here on Earth.

* If I love God more than anything, if I can know a love that strong, and have no fear of being hurt, then it becomes easier to love others. And the fear of intimacy, of truly revealing myself to others fades away. On such premises are true friendships formed; in such awareness is love let loose, because hurt is impossible, or at least handleable, in my ultimate love for my Higher Power.

* Contact with my Higher Power is precious to me. Loss of this inexplicable contact is depression, and the loss of it in mania is grandiosity. Loss of contact, if this separation is of sufficient duration, allows alcoholic thinking back into my life, the discounting of the countless rewards of sobriety, of recovery. All around me I see friends get drunk after working so hard to “get the program”. I see me in all of them, me if I lose precious contact. We simply forget. I have forgotten, and come back to God’s Grace. Some don’t come back. They forget. They get lost, and stay lost.

God loves us all. We must try as hard as we can not to forget. Don’t get lost - it is so very hard to find your way back. Love yourselves, and always remember:

Precious Contact.

29 March 1996

* The more the songs I hear become poetry in my mind, the more my poetry resembles song, the closer I come to freeing my inner artist, the closer I come to participatory creation. The Great Creator calls to me to come out and play, and though still housebound, I find myself listening, waiting to hear the call of the greatest Artist of all. I tune in like a radio receiver, surprised to find that merry-go-round voice has always been there while my antenna has been down for long repair.

Poetry to song. Song to poetry.

Imagine that.

3 April 1996

* Some mornings I dance.

Grey skies, blue skies, it doesn’t matter, some mornings are for dancing.

This morning

I danced to the sight of early Spring snowfall

and a lone robin hopping around the yard,

poking its beak through the snow to the ground below.

I celebrated life, and diversity, and the lack of meteorological guarantees.

This morning, I danced.

- excerpts from journals -

25 April 1996

... I seem to spend so much time in grief. There seems so much to grieve for, so much to regret. So much loss and sorrow.

But all around me, about and inside me, is Beauty, and Love.

And we all balance as best we can. We cry and we laugh. We grieve and we rejoice. And if we’re lucky, we remember to thank God for it all. Everything. Everyone.

Creation. Duality...

... and the ultimate miracle of our power simply to perceive it all. And to participate, all in our own way, in Creation. What is happening all around us every day is infinity unfolding. Time exists only in the now, in this moment. I’ve lived an infinite number of moments. And an infinite number of moments await me.

I’ve lived a long, long time. And an infinite number of moments from Now, I will stop.

13 May 1996

... Thank you, my Treese, and be careful. Walk with God, as He has always walked with you. Hang on to Love, my baby, always remember Love. And remember, there is no one, no one, here on Earth who loves you more than I do.

I promise.

21 May 1996

... And out my window, there is finally green again. Gaea and Her time schedule - we need only be patient.

So, after this long, long winter, I hope to begin again. As things start growing again in the earth, so might I begin as new once more, somehow get back to that magical time-box where not only each day, but each moment, is the only one I have. Existing in time as I know it, hand in hand with the Great Creator. My participatory moment-to-moment existence. Sometime in there I may find my poetry again, sometime in there I may start feeling good about myself once again. My hand in Yours, God, I only have that one wish. A return to innocence, living paradoxically able to instantly spot deceit. God, make me as wise, and as innocent, as I can be. Let me participate and therefore touch all about me, gently, to embrace or reject as Your wisdom and Your presence dictate. I am Yours, my will and my life, moment to moment. I have always been Yours.

27 March 1995

... I live eclectically. All things balanced in the constant awareness of duality, the essential dichotomy of life. Evangelists and Satanists, holes and humps. Heaven’s a toilet bowl and Jesus is working the flush. Universal balance is gridlock constipation and Satan’s selling Ex-Lax. Think I’ll go hug a tree.

28 October 1995

... have to get up every 20 minutes and turn the record over. Ah, just touching the vinyl brings back the old days, 10 grams of needle tearing through the groove of some poor overplayed record, Black Sabbath’s Paranoid or Led Zeppelin’s “The Lemon Song”. Lying back with some girl, eyes closed and waiting for the lead break, not minding or not noticing the scratches and pops, the absence of pretty well all treble and bass in favour of the midrange that was all that most record players could manage to produce from those tortured grooves. Acid-bridge in the middle of “Whole Lotta Love” with Jimmy Page sneaking up with that crash and burn guitar that could and would take the top of your head off if you were on the right stuff... amazing then, doubly amazing now.

... I had to kick myself in the ass so many times before I finally realized I was doing it all wrong. Not kicks, but strokes. Not banging my head against some tree, but hugging it. Not instant revelation but quiet summation. Lots of garbage out there, sure, but surrounded by, spoiled by, that one ultimate singularity, beauty. Pessimism and vitriol covered finally by a blanket with a message stitched in reading simply Goodness, Kindness. New virtue and integrity winning the battle, for now at least, over addiction and despair. Tears that release instead of gather, eyes that look outward rather than inward. Oh, oh my, a heart that beats to soothe rather than hurt...

14 October 1996

... Love is timeless. True love has no borders in space and time, but lives in the heart, or in the soul, which is eternal.

I remember my first love as if she just said “so long” and walked out the door. I remember a tiny woman I loved two decades ago, and remember with absolute clarity how badly I treated her in my misery. I’m so sorry, tiny girl Linda. You deserved better, and you found better eventually.

Love lives in the heart. Love is everywhere, in everything. Some love we’re born with, and becomes part of our lives as we grow - children, nature, the ever-present stars in the sky. But the love that is “found”, that, if given time, becomes as much a part of our minds and bodies as that which we’re born with, is the most special of loves. Love outside our families, this love discovered or found outside the boundaries of that which we take as our natural possession and starts or ends in trust, in joy or pain, in faith, is so very strong. Perhaps the one love that transcends the boundaries of “innate” and “discovered” is the love of God, so all-encompassing when its presence is finally felt and humbly acknowledged.

But I talk of love that seems to appear out of nowhere, but can become as strong and bonding as that love I feel for my children, my parents, the sky and God. The love of a woman, the love that can become as unconditional as familial love. A love that doesn’t appear full-blown, but has to be practised until one finds himself “in love” and as accepting of that love an any other love has ever been accepted.

... Love is eternal. Love, not science, is what made the Universe, and is what hides its mysteries from our questing minds, hides the “beginning” and the “end” and even the size. How big or small can eternity be?

Love itself doesn’t hide. Thank God it doesn’t. But mystery is so necessary, else we’d never fall in love.

Imagine that.

18 October 1996

... If I perceive time to be composed of an infinite number of moments, then the amount of time it takes me to write this sentence is unutterably long; if time were somehow concrete and made up of tangible units, I would be astounded at the very “size” of the time taken to write this, and dumbfounded at the “size” of time I have lived until this very moment. God alone knows the true nature of time, but I learn to gather my moments about me and look on them all as precious and rare, beautiful and singularly unique. So very much has gone before, and so very, very much lies before me - the order of time forming from the ever-moving, ever-changing universe.

Saturday, June 18, 2011


an afternoon at the mall,
sitting smoking in the sun
by the entryway;
I look around and find treasures
in the people around me.

young, old, but all beautiful
in their way,
in their efforts
to greet the day
and say hello to Gaea.

God's work manifest,
God's love abounding -
I see what He sees
and marvel with Him -
wonder at the results
of the miracle He started
so long ago.

this day
with the sun shining
on God's creation,
we marvel
just Him and I;
we drink in the promise of humanity.

we teeter drunkenly,
on the dizzy precipice
of Beauty.

17 June 2011

Thursday, June 16, 2011


long conversation
in love
and no reason really
to talk because we know
what each is ready to say.

there's no need
but every reason
to finally hang up the phone -
because you there
me here
makes us eager -
wishing for transporters
and time machines.

19 March 2003