Monday, December 31, 2012

Reflections & Assumptions

Hello again, dear reader. I am roughly 11 hours away from the end of one year and the beginning of another. By the time this gets posted, it will be closer. And so, as old and new come closer together, I reflect. I reflect on the passage of the past 365 days. And along with reflection comes assumption...the assumption that the next set of days will be different. So please, reflect along with me. But please don't assume with me....oh forget it, I won't bust out that tired old joke. Here we go then, dear reader. Reflect and assume.

2012. It seems that the older I get, the faster these increments of time disappear. Maybe it's because the more I age, the more fun I have. They say time flies when you're having fun, so that's the only logical explanation. Yes, this past year was a fun year, and a tough year. As a family unit, we had many enjoyable events that led to treasured memories. As an individual and as a part of the family, the struggles in different aspects of life have been ever present. And through good and bad, the blessings of God are most evident.

I think that one of the many highlights of the year would have to be the trip we made to California. It was my eldest brothers birthday in May so we decided to fly there and pay him a surprise visit. It was a magical 5 days. The drawback was that Dad couldn't be there, but Mom was as well as my other two siblings. To be able to do this from a practical and financial point of view is just one example of the rich blessings we receive.

I have watched my children grow another older, and with that growth comes change. Personalities develop a little bit more, interests are pursued with more vigor, and the interaction between parents and children changes. I watched my son careen towards the cusp of that awkward time when he's not a little boy, but not a teenager. He's a wonderful child who shows signs of incredible maturity, but yet in his heart still is young boy. I've watched and listened to him grow as a musician. His love for music and his affinity for the pipe organ is spell-bounding. He played for an audience on no less than 3 occasions this year...twice playing the postlude after a Sunday worship service and once playing the recessional for a choir concert. Blessings? In an over-whelming abundance.

My daughter too has an ear and a love for music. She has come a long way in her lessons and is showing signs of having a beautiful singing voice and an incredible sense of timing and rhythm. She's a playful girl who loves to laugh and have fun. And as she enters this next set of months, she more and more becomes a 'girly-girl', and I mean that in the nicest possible way. She loves things to with hair and dolls. We have been blessed with an amazing daughter!

Many of you who have read my stuff over the past number of years know about the well documented battle against cancer that my wife fought. It has been almost 4 years since the diagnosis. All signs point to her cancer being 'not active', and that is the best we will ever hear from her oncologist. There are still many side effects from the treatments she had and the drugs she continues to take, but she deals with those in faith. As a family, we support her and each other as much as we can. But without our faith in God, I don't believe we would be where we are. He truly is the great healer, and blessed us with access to excellent medical care and a facility that is second to none to receive treatment in. Our 'new normal' has been defined, and this past year has proven that it is marvelous. Yes there has been some medical bumps (pun intended) in the road. But that's ok. It was meant to happen that way. It's all part of God's plan.

Personally, I've had a good year. I've been fortunate to serve my church community in a couple different capacities. I've experienced the ups and downs of being an author, from getting published in The Rusty Nail to going through a drought where the words weren't working. I've developed new friendships, maintained current ones, and re-kindled old ones. Social media has played a big role in this....there is a large writing community that I try to interact with, to learn and grow as an author. Oh, I've had my share of struggles, most of which I share with no one. That is where there is room for improvement.

Which leads me to the assumption part of this article. I am going to assume that the positives and negatives from 2012 will lead to growth and improvement in 2013. The things I need to fix will be a project. The things I want to learn will be a WIP (work in progress). and every aspect of my life falls into one of these two categories, sometimes into both. An assumption is that this will happen. My belief is that God will help me make it happen. I don't make resolutions as I head into a new year. I make plans. And God willing, I will have the strength to carry these plans out.

And so, dear reader, this is the final article of the year of our Lord 2012. I thank all of you who have read my stuff, encouraged me, criticized me and inspired me. I thank my friends, my family, my church community and my co-workers for everything. Everybody helped in shaping the past 365 days into a memory. Most of all, I thank my God, who has blessed me with so many people and so many opportunities and gifts. Without Him, I am nothing.

From my family to you and yours, we wish you a very happy New Year.

God bless.

Rod E. Kok

Christmas is Over

It's over. It is really
almost over, this
season they call
Christmas. Soon enough
the trees will be
piled in the alleyways
of memory, the shiny
new toys will be
dulled with use, and
the Christmas cheer will be
gone with the last drop
from the bottle.
I love Christmas, I really do.
Or should I say, I
love the day
It was perfect that day
our own little corner
of pure happiness.
We had our time that day
Food, games
fellowship. Family.
Us four...together.
Yes it's almost
over. We have our
memories, hopefully
never forgotten.
New traditions replace
old ones.
Love. Peace. Joy.
We remember the
reason. The reason
for the season.
The Christ child!
Yes it's over.
No more trees,
the lights have dimmed
the two month long
barrage of music
is silenced.
It's quiet. Peaceful.

Thursday, December 20, 2012

Terror Tried...and Lost

This is my little way of expressing myself after the horror in Newtown. I pray for the families.

On the day that terror reigned
I hugged
my loved ones.
Far away from it I live
but rarely does something
touch so close.
Tears. Anguish.
My heart breaks for
those who have lost.
That empty pit feeling
deep down into
my core…my grief
cannot match theirs.
Evil traipsed in
the hallowed halls
of learning. Children
were taught the meaning
of fear. And loss.
It’s hard to see,
but love was there also,
in all it’s sacrificial glory,
losing the battle yet
winning the war.
Love survived.
The devil chose the
wrong playground.
The name of God
should be honored.
For Lucifer will
eternally die. Soon.
Hearts break, families mourn.
A country weeps, the world
groans under such travail.
And yet there is hope
in the humanity that gave
to save. There is hope
that love will conquer.
Grieve. It is your right.
Mourn. It is natural.
Hope. Something good
will come of it. Just believe.

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

December 18, 2012

Once again, it's been a few days since I've posted in my journal. But it's not for a lack of words. No, it's because of an abundance of distractions. I have done some writing and some editing in the past couple days, yes, it has been pretty good. I edited 500 words out of a short story, and then I decided to start the whole thing over again because I didn't like it at all. I wrote a new poem, and changed a couple things in some I wrote a while ago. I even posted a new poem, and linked it to Open Link Night at So, I have not been lazy in my writing, and I most definitely have not been blocked. I am writing.

Our Words are Music

Written for OpenLinkNight at the pub at dVersePoets.

Softly in the background
the music played.
Singers sang the words
that made the people
Emotion brought on by
different voices,
the haunting tunes,
melody and harmony;
words that cut to the quick.
Chords were made alive
resonating through us all.
We didn't know that the notes
lived in us, through us.
Put your words to music
is what the writer wrote.
What notes need to be struck?
A dirge or a ditty,
how will it sound to those who hear?
What you say shows the bar
filled with halfs and wholes,
quarters and eighths.
Lines up, lines down,
it doesn't change the sound
of our words or the tune
that accompanies them.
Rest. Breathe. Sing.
Forte! Double forte!!
We long to be heard,
our passion is the sound
of our own voice.
Our love is tied
to what we speak.
Sing of love, of desire.
Sing with a smile.
Speak from the heart.
Write your song,
speak your heart.
Our words are music.

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

December 12, 2012

I highly doubt there will be any more writing done today other than what I put in this journal entry. If you follow me on Twitter (@fifafan1969) or on Facebook, you will have read that I had a dilation test done on my eyes. This is diabetes related, and I get it done every year at this time. Thankfully, the results of the test were very positive. My eyes are in very good shape. I am clear for another year. And I am very pleased. I am also very pleased that I am getting back onto the trail of writing again. My most recent poem has been published, and I can feel the juices of creativity starting to flow, albeit a little slowly. But, I am writing. And my confidence in my words is growing. Slowly.


Tuesday, December 11, 2012

December 11, 2012

I wrote a poem today. That is a big step forward for me. Remember the other day I mentioned something about a 'fugue state' that I go into when I pen a decent poem? I was there today. I have no idea what brought it on...maybe my mind was clear of negative thoughts, maybe the moon aligned with the orbit of Jupiter's umpteenth moon, may our moon pulled my brain to the front like some tidal force...whatever it was it worked. And I was so pleased with the outcome. It's weird because when I write whilst in that 'fugue state', the words that come out need very little (if any) editing. The poem I wrote and posted today (you will find it under the  My Poems section of this site) received no editing. It just flowed, it worked. And I wrote a poem. I am pleased.


With You By My Side

Written for Open Link Night at Dverse

I went for a walk
by myself.
I got lost in my thoughts
and on the streets.
I had no idea
where I was.

You were with me
in my mind,
beside me
supporting my every
misguided step.

It was your steady hand
that stopped me
from stepping off the precipice,
a fall that I may not have

Alone I wandered,
with you by my side.
We talked and laughed
somewhere in my head
it all made sense.

I bumped into a
light post as I gazed
into the dark corners
of my mind where
you exist.

I ambled blindly.
I stumbled about
like a drunk man
well into a fifth
of cheap scotch.

I couldn't see you.
I didn't see you
anywhere outside
of my dreams.
I fell.

I cried, a weeping
I was lost and
very much alone
with you by my side.

Alas, the street
led to a light
that shone upon
an angelic figure
that was you.

You. Me.
Together! My wandering
led to to the place
I wandered from.

I went for a walk
on the cold, dark
streets that have no name.
And you were with me,
by my side. Forever.

Monday, December 10, 2012

December 10, 2012

Ok, so I mentioned the other day that I was working on a story. And I have worked on it, but I am running into a problem. I suck at writing dialogue. And of course, dialogue in a story is quite important. I have a pretty good idea where I want this to go, but I am not sure how I am going to get it there. I've never really had the chance to write this sort of thing, because I have mostly written poetry. So, this is very new for me. I suspect that there will be a lot of editing, a lot of reading and a lot of paying close attention to how the books I read carry out their conversations between two characters. This is my stumbling block right now, but I am determined to get over it. It will be a lot of work, but I will do it. And it will be a decent story.


Sunday, December 9, 2012

December 9, 2012

Yesterday I mentioned that I was working on a story, and that I had written around 1100 words. I did work on it a bit today, but also decided that it needed a massive edit. This even before I'd finished it! I don't like the beginning at all. However, I will not re-write it until I finish it. Then I can take the finished draft and edit it to my hearts content, but I will not edit an incomplete first draft. I don't know if this is a smart choice or not, but it is what I have decided to do. In other exciting news, I did pen a first draft of a new poem. The WIP title is Rage. I am not sure where it is going to end up, but it does need some work. And more often than not, if my poem needs work, it doesn't ever get posted. That has to change, and I will work on it. In the past, my 'best' work has been the stuff that comes off my fingers while I'm in some sort of fugue state...I write some words and when I read them back I have no clue how I got them. Anything I've 'forced' out has been crap. And so I wait patiently for the fugue state to come upon me again so I can write another poem. In the meantime, I have a story to write.


Saturday, December 8, 2012

December 8, 2012

Today was a breakthrough of sorts. A seemingly innocent and fun conversation has turned into almost 1100 words of story. Oh, trust me, it is not a well written story, but I do believe it has potential. I will continue to write it, and I will finish it. I suspect it will finish at no more than 2500 words, but I could be wrong. And once it is written, I will keep it as a WIP, and I will probably re-write it again and again until I have the tale told in manner which pleases me. And then I will post it. When will that be? I don't have the foggiest. I think I wrote enough today to give me a a good grasp on where I want to go with it, so I shouldn't forget or abandon it. I am determined to see this one out. As for my poetry, it is still on hiatus. I really hope it makes a comeback soon. It would help my confidence a lot, for that is a big stumbling block right now. Confidence. What a fickle thing. I really think that a good chunk of my problem is that I think I can't write, and thus I don't. Deep down, I know I am full of crap. I just need to convince my creativity of that. And then I will write. Today was a great start. I wrote.


Friday, December 7, 2012

December 7, 2012

Another day, another post. And this one will be a rambling mess, I suspect. But that is ok, because it is what I need to do. I need to put words on paper (in a manner of speaking). I was given advice on twitter today to just write. The exact quote is this: 'No style, no judgment, no censoring. Just write stream of consciousness thoughts and ideas. See where that takes you.'. I owe that tidbit of wisdom to Tiffany Coffman, an author I follow (@tlcoff). And that is exactly what I am going to do. And so I sit here on my couch, the fireplace channel is on TV, the family is all in bed, and I am trying to gather the energy to make a (diabetic friendly) hot chocolate. There might possibly be some video games tonight, or maybe an early night to bed. Tomorrow we head to the in-laws to celebrate MIL-s birthday. Hopefully the roads are good. I will be home on time to add more drivel to my journal. For now, I'm done rambling.


Thursday, December 6, 2012

December 6, 2012

Day two of my journey back into some meaningful writing comes with perspective. I just read an article written by someone I know of (but don't really know), and she wrote about writers block. The perspective is that she suffered this phenomenon for five years or so...and it was not that she wasn't writing, it was that she wasn't writing well. And that sort of sums up where I am at right now. My confidence in what I write is at an all time low. I read what I write and I don't like it. I've been told to write and to post what I write, even if it's bad. That's how to grow. Partially I agree with that. The problem is that I won't post until I fully agree with that. And therein lies my struggle. It all comes down to confidence. I'll work on that aspect. If I can find that back, then I will write again. I hope it will happen.


Wednesday, December 5, 2012

December 5, 2012

Good evening. Here we go again...writing 100 words minimum every day. I know I got away from this habit for quite some time, but now I have to get back into it. If you've read my blog post from yesterday, you'll know why I am doing this. It is so I can write again. I am stuck in such a rut that I have no words at all. And so, I write. I write anything right now. Just to get the fingers used to typing the thoughts the brain comes up with. And if it's crap, so be it. But I'd really like to be worthy of the hashtag #AmWriting. Because I am afraid that I #AmNotWriting and if I don't I won't. So I will. I'll be back. But for now, this is where I write. Let the words flow...eventually.


Tuesday, December 4, 2012

#AmWriting #AmNotWriting

Hello again dear reader

It has been some time since I have put anything in this category of my website, and the way things are going, it will be quite sometime before I manage to post anything worthwhile. You see, I am in a place where I haven't been for a while, and it is scaring me a little. And so, here I am. Writing. Call it an exorcism of writers block, call it a kick in the ass of creativity, call it whatever you will. I am writing. And I will take the spanner out of the works, and get to a happy place again. Come along, dear reader. Come with me as I write my way down the first leg of this journey.

If you've read my stuff going way back, you will know that I have been in a similiar place before. Do you remember the start of 'My Journal'? Yep, it was started for the sole purpose of writing every day. And it worked! I was doing a lot of writing, the words flowed into poetry, into some stories I was working on...I felt really good about it.

So what happened? Why am I now a little bit scared? After all, I have declared my love for the written word. I have posted many poems on various websites (including this one) to varying degrees of success. I have had two of my poems published in The Rusty Nail magazine (, and a third is scheduled to be in print in the new year some time. I have had 4 poems rejected by another magazine, and 2 submissions simply not acknowledged by a magazine. There is some experience there that puts me ( in my most humble opinion) on the same stage as other writers. And these experiences have all been positive, even the rejections. It's a part of writing that I can deal with. My question was 'What happened?'.

The answer is simple: I don't know. Or, if I am perfectly honest with you, the answer should be: I know, but I don't want to admit it. And so, dear reader, here's the hard part. Fixing it. It's broken and it needs repair. A firmware upgrade is needed, because I found some bugs in the old code (you techies will understand that). There are a few things that need fixing, and the main one is attitude. I think I became complacent. After all, I was writing! And I expected too much. I expected that the creativity would always be there, that I could write with little prompting. I was very very wrong. Maybe this period of time is good for is giving my head a shake that I really needed. It's a good wake up call.

The second thing that went south on my was my effort. I was only writing when I thought I had something to write. Someone I follow on Twitter (@kseniaanske) gave the advice today to write. Her tweet read as follows: 'WRITE. Every day, write. And the lid held over your well will fly off. And the stories will flow.' And it is so true, and it really struck me. And that means that I will once again start writing in the 'My Journal' section of my site...100 words per day. If I don't write, I won't write. I had forgotten that, so thank you @ksensiaanske.

And there we have it, dear reader. The first step on my journey. This step could take a while, but I will be back. I will produce poetry again, I will add to the story of Lionel Aber, and I will write. I will be able to use again the hashtag #AmWriting. Thank you for your patience.


Friday, November 23, 2012

70 in a 70

Only sadness as I wrote this. It's not a personal experience, but for many it is too real.

Driving along, thoughts wandering
imagination going wild
with thoughts of
parties and fun,
drinks and his favorite girl.
In the zone, signs clearly stood
speed limit obvious
double the fines
people working
sons and daughters,
Dads and Moms.
110 through a 70
not a cop in sight
he could almost taste
the beer
and feel the burn
of whiskey.
Earning that pay cheque
to fund a college degree,
or to put food on the table,
to pay the mortgage
pay the tax man
Just an hour left in this cold day.
Light traffic.
Good, don't have to delay
his arrival.
Squealing tires
Supper got cold
waiting for
the arrival of
Dad, Mom?
Why the tears?
Family grieves
a community cries
Driving along
in the back of
the cruiser.
Fear, self loathing.
70 in a 70
Everyone goes home safe.
And nobody tries
to arrive early
at the dire cost
of someone
not arriving
at all.

Thursday, November 22, 2012


My love for you has stained
my heart
to the deepest shade of
desire, the color of
sheer gossamer covering my
eyes, that look at you
through the blur of
my tears.
No amount of blood
can paint my heart
red again.

Thursday, November 15, 2012

The Apparition

Written for a challenge posed by Lori Fetters-Lopez on her website. She provided the picture below as our inspiration. The picture credits also go to Lori. Check out her work at her website. You can also find her on Twitter @fetterslopez

The apparition came out of the orange-ish cloud silently, like a wraith. In the child’s mind’s eye, it was the most fearsome thing he had ever seen or imagined. He thought about yelling out for his parents, but he didn’t want to bother them. They had been yelling at each other again, and he didn’t want to be the cause of their anger. Eyes tightly shut, he tried to will the creature away. But it came closer, and took form. Looking somewhat like a German Shepherd with black eyes, it seemed to grin at the boy. Behind it the cloud swirled in a seemingly evil maelstrom of color. Biting his lip to prevent his scream from escaping, a tear slid silently down his cheek. This was a whole new level of fright. A silent prayer escaped from his thoughts. The dog’s (for there was no other way to describe it) skinny human-like arms reached out, and wrapped up the boy in a warm embrace. In his mind’s eye, he found solace. Fear was gone.

Tuesday, November 13, 2012


I drink you in, all of you
this great gift of sight
allows me to witness
that which is most
I hear the very clear tones
of a bird singing,
the most entrancing of music,
soft, gentle...
your voice speaks
I breathe in the essence
of your very being
perfumes aromatic,
spices, flowers.
that fragrance beckons
Your lips I taste
every sweet kiss
borne of love
salty and sweet
the greatest flavor
It's you I touch
I feel your skin
your shape formed
from perfection
created for this embrace.

Monday, November 12, 2012

Who's There?

A story made up of 57 words. I wrote this for a competition. It is based on a true experience that could only have happened on a Monday.

Sitting alone in my office, I’m working. I’m concentrating on fixing this laptop. My mind is focused. I swear nobody came into the office. I wasn’t THAT focused. But I felt it, and it creeped me out. I don’t believe in the supernatural, but I can’t deny this. It gave me goosebumps, that breath on my neck.

Saturday, November 10, 2012

November 10, 2012

The last couple weeks have been terribly uninspired. This seems to be a common theme for me. I try not to get too down about it, because at some point in time the words will come to me and I will fire off another poem that I am pleased with, or even a piece of flash fiction that makes me happy. Yes, I have ventured out of my comfort zone of strictly poetry and actually wrote a piece of flash fiction. It is on my website, so if you want to read it, look under the Story Spinner category. There's only one thing listed there, so you can't miss it. But, as I was saying, it's been difficult to find words the last little while. And I keep promising myself that I will write in my journal again, just to get writing, but I never do...or at least rarely. Soon enough something good will happen. I just need to stay positive and keep writing.


Tuesday, November 6, 2012

The Box

This is my first attempt at flash fiction. I admit I have a lot of growing to do as an author, but I am pretty proud of this one. I wrote it with some one in mind who is going through a tough time. Please enjoy.

Imagine a box. A non-descript box, just sitting on the ground. All around you, people are walking around this box, paying it no attention. But something about this particular box draws you in. It is almost like there is a force within that is grabbing hold of you, willing you to at the very least investigate this box.

You draw near.

Fear enters your heart. It’s an evil world we live in, and boxes are notorious for their particular brand of badness. Maybe that’s why nobody else is approaching this box.

Brave! Be brave! Approach the box and find out what it is all about. Let the chips fall where they may! And as you approach the box, you see it. Your name. Your name is printed on the outside of the box. Now why on earth would there be a box with your name on it in the middle of this street?

Your fear dissipates.

Reaching out, you take hold of the box. You turn it about, looking at all sides. The only striking feature is your name on it. Your hands tremble.

You sit on a near by bench, and ponder your next move. The box sits at your feet. Again you think of the evil that you have seen and heard of. You truly don’t want to get hurt. But then again, what can getting hurt do to you that hasn’t already happened? After all, life is never easy. Take no risks and get no rewards. To Valhalla with them all! They don’t hurt you; they can’t hurt you…at least, not as much as this box could hurt you.

You don’t want to hurt. You want to be alive.

The power within the box draws you in. Your choice is made. You have to open the box, and let the consequences be damned. You alone make choices for yourself. Nobody can help with this one.

Slowly and fearfully you open the box. You peer inside, relieved that so far nothing bad has happened. You see another box.

Your fear is born again. Another box? Really? But the second one looks so different. It is anything but bland. It shines. And if it was possible for a box to glow, this one could be described as glowing. But there is something else. This one is pulsing. Your curiosity is piqued.

You go through the same fears as you prepare to look inside this second box. As you lift it out, your hands are warmed. The box is radiated a low heat, enough to put its warmth into your skin.

You open the second box. You can’t resist. You gasp. This is not what you expected. Inside the box is….your heart. Whole. Pure. Innocent.

Your faith in humanity is restored. For some kind soul has restored your heart. You smile. Your tears are now joyous. You are complete. You can love. Love yourself, and love others.

All because of a non-descript box.

Saturday, November 3, 2012

November 3, 2012

So, this is what it's like to write in my journal. Interesting. Hopefully I write something worthy. After all, I haven't been here for quite some time. So here I sit, in an empty church building listening to my boy play the pipe organ. The music he plays is a huge source of inspiration to me. I do not get tired of it. And so here I am....writing. I've written a number of poems in the past little while, some good, some bad. But even the not so good ones I like, because they are my words. Will I present them to the public. Probably not. But a really interesting thing about some of the bad stuff I've written is that I find little gems in the words that evolve into a better piece. This is why I rarely throw out anything. That little gem is just waiting for me. So I make it a habit to read through my folder called 'Not Fit For Human Consumption'. I laugh at the crap, I chortle at the thoughts, but I grasp at that tiny gem.

The last thing today is this: Why write? I read an article today that a twitter acquaintance wrote. She ended her article with this statement:

So, my friends, the point of this post is to keep writing. Keep writing from your heart, keep sharing stories you love, which you yourself would want to read. And hopefully along the way, it will come across the desk of an editor who believes in the story as much as you do, but has the eye to see things you can’t and make it even better.

And that captured exactly why I write. I write because I love words and I want to share them. And if nobody likes them, that is ok with me. It just means I haven't yet reached the person who does like my words. I thank Jaimie Engle ( for her wise words. It always helps to be reminded of these things.

I leave my journal tonight with a most important hashtag. My Tweeps will understand.



Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Storm of the Century

Written for the poets at Dverse

It was the storm of the century
that caused all the mayhem.
A wind never before seen
blew through this town.

Umbrellas turned inside out
newspapers torn from the grips.

Fedoras and bowlers
roll down the street.
Marilyn moments
for the shyest of ladies.

Rain and wind
tore stuff apart;
Boardwalk floating down the street,
some say they even saw a shark
on Second Avenue.

Aye, the tide is high
the mood is low,
but they’ll survive because
that’s what they do.

Shh…what’s that noise?

Silence. And look!
A glimpse of the sun
seen through the eye
of the storm.

The storm of the century
pillaged and raped
its way up the coast.

A nation cried together,
friends born out of compassion
for losses suffered.

The prayers of the people
soared above the swirling mass
of angry clouds and rain.

Yes, they’ll survive
the storm of the century.
Because that’s what they do

Saturday, October 27, 2012

A Picture of Me

Written for and linked to Dverse

Paint a picture of me
is the challenge I gave
to someone who thought
he knew me.


It was a portrait of happy colors,
reds mixed with whites,
bacon and maple syrup,
cookies and cream.

A smile!

Laughter along with wit,
confidence rode on the
backseat of humor’s
'69 Beetle.

He missed the tears,
even though they stream
down my cheeks and fall
into my cold coffee.

Nowhere to be found was the
heart that was broken
by a loss no one should
experience. My son!
farewell, dear boy.

I looked at the picture
through eyes painted
black as night. It made me

But he painted a butterfly
in the strangest place...
it was on my lips.

It sang a beautiful song,
akin to a robin. It stirred me
to action. To smile!

Oh the painter was wrong,
but he got it right. For he said
the picture was not of today.
But tomorrow.

Friday, October 19, 2012

October 19, 2012

Well, the writing mood is not on me tonight. This cold I have is making me very drowsy, and my mind is not able to focus long enough to get anything coherent jotted down. Of course, that could make for the most random poem ever. Maybe I should write a drug induced could turn out to b very interesting. But, more than likely, it would end up being something that would never se the light of day. On the bright side, I did publish a new poem on this website earlier today. It is a poem I am quite proud of, it felt really good writing it and I didn't edit it at all. So very tired. Just a couple more hours and I will be heading off to bed. But before that, my sister and brother in law are coming for a visit. I am looking forward to that.


My Muse (You)

Restless thoughts won’t settle down
in everything I see, you are there.
You become my inspiration
in times when my words are broken.
You are the light to my dark
truly I have found my muse.
Your physical presence
although not commanding
ensnares me and holds me tight.
I often wonder why there are times
when I can’t see what you have
to offer?
Blind! I am blind
to your charms.
Oh foolish writer, open your eyes,
open your heart
let your muse propel you
to words that tell the tale.
‘Love is blind’, thus is the word
but the meaning is different
for a writer and his craft.
Listen! Watch! Learn!
Follow the direction
of that which inspires.
Relax your thoughts,
let the very juice of creativity
flow from your body
and onto the paper.
Succumb to the will
of your muse.
This is my advice.
To practice what I preach
I must embrace you.
I am to love you,
your mind and your body.
My mind is open
and ready to receive
My muse. My inspiration.
My love.

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

October 18, 2012

So later on today I am going on a road trip. Nope, it is nowhere exotic. There will be no palm trees, sandy beaches, warm trade winds blowing off the ocean or hula hoops. A definite lack of exotic, I'd say. But that's ok, because I get to see my parents again! You guessed it...I'm going to Coaldale. We are heading there for a couple days to see my Dad and Mom, and I am really looking forward to it. It will give me a brief time to recharge my batteries, and maybe even do some writing. Speaking of writing, the last couple days have been very good. I composed a poem that may need a couple edits, and I also have been working on a couple short stories. I was thinking heavily again about Lionel Aber, the protagonist in my story. I wrote a few words, changed a few thoughts and came up with a couple more ideas for Lionel. The other story I am writing for me only, and will never see the light of day. It's only purpose is to get the creative juices flowing. And it seems to be working. I may have stumbled upon my muse once again. Or is that 'stumbled across'. I'll let you know how that turns out.

Friday, October 12, 2012

October 12, 2012

So I thought tonight would be so productive. I have a couple hours to myself. I am sitting in Starbucks, enjoying a Venti Spicy Skinny something or other Caramel Mocha drink. And for some reason, I have nothing. There are no words to write, no inspiration. I was going to listen to Tom Waits, but my non-noise cancelling headphones don't allow me to hear my music. I hear the coffee shop music. And trust me, I like the tunes they are playing, but I am not feeling it tonight. Like I said, I've got nothing. I seriously wanted to get some words written. And as you can tell by this journal entry, nothing I write is really worth reading. So instead of forcing it, I will wait patiently for the lines to be drawn.


Thursday, October 11, 2012

October 11, 2012

I didn't write yesterday because a strange bug took me down for the count. I was sitting at work and...bah, forget it. I won't go into details. Suffice it to say I was sick. And that brings me to right now. Once I have this journal entry written, I am going to work on some poetry. I am sitting in an empty church auditorium listening to my son receive his organ lessons, so I may as well write. Speaking of music, I found an artist that really inspires me...Tom Waits. I love his style and his lyrics and his presentation. Listening to him really gets me thinking and puts me into a creative mood. And this is a very good thing. Now lets see if listening to the pipe organ does the same thing for me.

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

October 9, 2012

I want to write. I love to write. But I can't. Not right now. I am having some blockage issues. And some time issues. I have blockage and no time. No time and blockage. Am I rambling? Yep I sure am. I need to get back into this habit...this habit of writing. Yes, even if it is a bunch of gibberish, I need to write. Back to the 100 words per day. Back to the way it was. Back to the way it is. And now that I think of it, this might be a great time to publish my poem about writers block. It's a good one.


Monday, October 8, 2012

October 8, 2012

Today is Thanksgiving here in Canada. It is a holiday for most; a day of relaxation and reflection. And turkey. At some point this weekend, most have imbibed in a huge meal of turkey, stuffing, potatoes, veggies, pumpkin pie and the like. I get to participate in such a meal this afternoon. However, this is not really the point of this journal entry. Sure it's fun to think about the upcoming feast, but I have other things to think about as well. Such as my next poem. Such as my consideration of purchasing a Mac or not. I have long said that I would not buy a Macbook Air mostly because I cannot justify the price. But I am starting to waver. I still can't make myself understand why I would spend $1200 on a laptop on which I will surf the interweb and do some word processing. That part doesn't make sense to me. I can buy a $500 laptop and do the exact same thing. But the techie part of me is really wanting one because they really are an awesome piece of technology. Oh sure the specs are no different, the hardware is Intel and the keyboard is QWERTY...but the display is much nicer, the OS rocks and the physical look of the thing is simply cool. And so I continue to waver. I continue to think about purchasing one. I have a feeling that soon I will make the decision, I will take the plunge and spend the cash. Yes, I think I am changing my mind.


Thursday, October 4, 2012

October 4, 2012

Tonight it starts. Yes, my winter routine of bringing the kids to organ lessons has commenced. This week and next week will be at the teachers place, and after that they do their lessons at the church. They are both excited to be back in lessons after a summer hiatus. And I have to admit that I am excited too. I love watching them grow in their ability and enthusiasm for the instrument. It really is gratifying to see. And that is all I've got tonight.

Monday, October 1, 2012

October 1, 2012

Have you read my latest poem yet? It is titled A Toast: To Triangles and Jam. If you haven't read it, then it is high time you do. It really is a piece I am proud of. Don't get me wrong, I am proud of all my poems. But this one is special. You see, this poem was not written entirely by myself. If you've read it, you'll know that it was co-written by Boshika Gupta. I had sent a draft of it to her, for editing, for advice and for her opinion. What B added to the poem was nothing short of amazing. She didn't change it...she increased it. It became a collaboration, for her input was so valuable to the overall completeness of the poem. I enjoyed the process of getting this one complete. And I don't get tired of reading it. I like it that much. Thanks, B. Let's do it again someday.

Sunday, September 30, 2012

A Toast: To Triangles with Jam

This poem is the work of myself and a fellow poet, who is the most random friend I have in many ways. Thanks for helping to write this one, B! #Respect

Our world is filled
with plans and schedules
We are all-consumed
with that inexplicable restlessness,
longing and sadness.
Hectic paces keep us
tired and stressed,
pulling us away
from everything that really matters

Everyone has a calendar
that religiously they follow.
But no one has the time
to jump in a rain puddle again,
the way they did
when childhood beckoned.

Whatever happened to blowing bubbles
just for the sheer joy of it?
For happiness, for bliss.
For sanity!
Why don't we ever shout
'I love you!' from a rooftop?

When was the last time
you walked aimlessly?
How long has it been since you
experienced a 'spur of the moment' moment?

We are great planners,
amazing schedulers.
There are countless apps
to control our lives.

Did your phone tell you
to hug a stranger ever?
Was that tri-tone alert
instructing you to sing just for the love of music?

I'd love to know
what happened to random and spontaneous…?
When did 'impulsive'
leave our world?

I propose a toast
'To the bride, to the groom'
'The business deals'
But more importantly,

Don’t ask me why,
just listen.

We run, we jog
from meeting to meeting.
And yet we completely missed
the gorgeous autumn colors.

Our suits are power,
the ties match perfectly.
The crease in our pants
lead down to our designer shoes.

Ever thought of trying
unmatched socks?
Or better yet...
clashing colors?

Are you smiling now?
Are you kissing a love one after too long?

Be bold! Be daring!
Your comfort zone
is hindering the true experience
of a life stress free.

Yes, it's a toast I propose
With butter and jam.
Here's to you and me
As random as can be.

Written by:
Rod E. Kok
Boshika Gupta

For more of Boshika's writings, visit her blog at

Follow Boshika on Twitter:

Thursday, September 27, 2012

September 27, 2012

Don't tell the person who's paying my OT, but I am writing this during working hours. My role here is pretty much nothing...I only work if something breaks. And the chance of something breaking is slim. Now that I said that, it's gonna turn all bad. Now, the important stuff. Poetry. Writing. Yes I have been working on it. Not as much as I would like, but it's coming along. Keep tabs on my website, follow me on Twitter (@fifafan1969) and on my Facebook page. Thanks.

Monday, September 24, 2012

Dear Moon

I gaze out my bedroom window
the night is dark.
God's creation is asleep...
well, except for a select few.
The moon is awake over here
gently lighting our world.
The moth strives for its heights
mankind has been there, done that.
Silence! The wind rustles the
dying leaves of autumn.
Aye, darkness prevails
aside from the pale shimmer.
And that light...the moon
grins down on me through
my bedroom window.
What does it know? The future?
Is tomorrow the day I go beyond
to Heaven? Does the moon know
that I will be higher
No, the barren gray rock
reflects light not of knowledge
but only of safety.
Shine on, dear moon. My path
is lit in the darkest hour.
Goodnight, dear moon. And thank you
for your time tonight.

Sunday, September 23, 2012

September 23, 2012

In what seemed to be the blink of an eye, the weekend is over and I am about to head into my sleep. I knew it would go fast, because I suspected how much fun I would have. And time flies when your having fun. And so it's over. And I would do it again in a heartbeat. Golfing in the mountains, having some time with my family, going to Church, listening to some music and doing some writing. I can't imagine what would be more fun. And all of it, in pieces and in whole, serves as inspiration. And I think that most of it shows in the poem I started writing tonight. I am excited by this one...I believe it has some real potential. Hopefully tomorrow I can do some work on it. But for now, I must sleep. Monday beckons with a crooked finger and a sideways grin. I sure hope I have fun...that will bring me to Tuesday so much quicker.

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

September 19, 2012

Not much happening around here lately and it is kind of disappointing. I wrote a poem the other day, felt really good about it (still do), but I haven't written anything since. It is mostly due to laziness. And the pressure that I put on myself to come with 'epic' every time. I need to learn to relax and let the words flow naturally. And after a conversation with an author today, I decided that I should find a balance between writing poetry and writing stories (Thanks Lori). I don't want to burn out one and forget the other. What does this mean? It means that Lionel is coming out of the closet. Oh, um...NOT THAT CLOSET! No, he is coming back into my writing world. Good grief, I haven't seen Lionel for a while. I wonder how he's been. Stick around...I'll let you know.

Saturday, September 15, 2012

September 15, 2012

So I built a new computer. It is fast....really fast. Today I went and started going through all my emails from over the years, and organizing them. Yep, I have emails going back to 2004. Not all of them, mind you. Now the trick is to go through them and decide if I really need to have them. Ah yes, the joys of being excited about a new computer...everything must be shiny and organized. I also get to organize my 159GB music collection. Hopefully once I get rid of some doubles I will bring it down by a gig or seven. Really, who needs that much music. Good grief. Oh and about this whole writing thing...I'm still doing it. As a matter of fact, I am about to jot down some words for a new poem. So, um....goodbye.

Friday, September 14, 2012

Do You Remember

For my wife. 16 years later and still madly in love.
Do you remember
the day we met?
Quiet and shy
you stared at
your feet.
Do you recollect
all the firsts?
The smile, the wink
the touch of our hands,
the first kiss?
Walking by the lake
not close, but not far
what was happening?
Can you recall
our first intimate
Was it then
we fell in love?
People talked
people stared.
The shaking of heads,
the clacking of tongues,
few approved.
But we didn't care
what they thought.
The warnings came
but amidst it all
we persevered.
We finally said I do.
And we did everything
that we promised
as we also continue
to do.

Thursday, September 13, 2012

September 13, 2012

In 6 minutes it will be the day of my wedding. 16 years ago I married my best friend, and today she is an even better friend. Much of my inspiration to write is drawn from her. She is the oil to my water, but I think that's what makes us work so well. We are so different that we are the same. 16 years. Who woulda thunk it. We did, and that's why we said 'I do'. We did, we do and we always will. How's that for a line in a poem. Watch for it...I may just use it. But in the meantime...happy anniversary Dianne. I love you.
*Posted at the stroke of 12:00*

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

September 12, 2012

I know it looks like I haven't been very busy, but I have been diligently working on some new pieces. I actually have around 18 poems and partial poems...all labelled as WIP. I am slowly getting my muse back. I think I have said it before, that even if I write crap at least I am writing. Sure some of the WIPs will never see the light of day. Or maybe they will. I don't know. I keep them hanging around and dust them off every once in a while. You never know what you can do with recycled old stuff. If the muse is right, the words work. Rarely will I toss anything. Recycle yes. But not toss. Too much went into the words to abandon them. I can work with it.

Sunday, September 9, 2012

September 9, 2012

I asked this question on my Twitter account, and I will ask it here. Is this the week I get some writing done? Is there a (good) poem coming soon? To answer, I say this: I sure hope so. I will try out some thoughts down and make them into a semi-coherent thought. And if poetry isn't going for me, maybe I will flip back to the story I am writing (or trying to). Remember Lionel? Yep, he still lives in the recesses of my mind, and his story will still be told. I don't know when, but he may get some attention real soon. His story is way too cool to keep bottled up. It will get told. But first I try get a poem out. That is my focus. Something will happen. I can feel it.

Saturday, September 8, 2012

September 8, 2012

I wrote a poem today. Granted, it is a poor excuse of a poem, but it is a piece of work. With some minor or major editing, it may actually turn into something worth reading. I won't throw it onto the ash heap quite yet. Another totally cool thing is that my poem 'Dreams' has been recognized and about to be published by The Rusty Nail. It was a feature on the website a couple days ago, and it should appear in the print version of the magazine very soon. Anytime an author (and yes, I consider myself an author) gets published, it is a thrill. For me, it is validation. No, I am not going to try make a living on writing. That has never been the focus. I write because it is therapeutic. I write because I love words. I write because I can. I may not do it well, but I do it. And I like it. And I am about to be published.

Thursday, September 6, 2012

September 6, 2012

It has been a very busy September so far. So busy, in fact, that my writing has taken a back seat. Even as I write this, I should be sleeping. I am constantly trying to come up with new poems, but I simply have had no time to put anything down. I will have to do some editing of my works in progress...that usually gets me going. But that won't happen tonight, or tomorrow night. Nope, simply no time. But on the bright side, I built a new computer today:). It is pretty smoking' fast. Not the fastest, but it is really quick. Tomorrow I finish installing core software on it, then I will take a snapshot in preparation for disaster recovery. Maybe a really fast new computer will help me churn out poems faster. Or not.

Monday, September 3, 2012

September 3, 2012

And so, another summer ends. When we wake up in the morning, we will embark on a new school at work and my kids attending. It has been a really good summer. The weather has been pretty good, I have golfed a fair bit, I have spent some real quality time with my family...yes, it has been good. And now, routine starts again. That's not a bad thing, because hopefully it also means a better routine of writing. Hopefully I can build up my repertoire of poems (is it a repertoire or a portfolio?). Inspiration is born of keeping the senses honed to the world around. Hopefully I will see it before it passes me by.

Saturday, September 1, 2012

Leap of Faith

Whoever would have thought I could write a poem about a night of fun on a trampoline.

For Mark and Nelena.

Perspective is changed
from the upside down
tumbling, spinning
nothing seems the same.
We strive for normal,
feet firmly planted
yet we power as high
as we think we can go.
We launch our bodies
towards the heavens
around we go, head over heels
only to fall back down.
We land softly on the springy form
and catch our breath,
amazed at what we saw
when we took our leap of faith.

September 1, 2012

Pretty soon another school year is launched. Many things about this excite me, one of them being the thought of winter. Yes, I actually like winter. I love snow, I love the sight of frost on the sleeping trees and on our chain link fence. I love the look of my breath as it hangs in the cold morning air. No, I am not quite ready to be there yet. I want to do some golfing first. And it's just too early still. But, winter approacheth. I am really excited about trying to be a poet in the winter. There is so much beauty to take for inspiration...I long to know what I will write. Soon, humble poet. Soon enough it will arrive. And you'll then look towards longer days and warmer sun. Ah yes...I love the seasonal change.

Friday, August 31, 2012

August 31, 2012

I honestly don’t have a whole lot to say tonight. I had a great evening with some friends who came for dinner. I’m still not sure what I was thinking by acting 12 years old on the trampoline. But I did it, I had fun and I would do it again. As for writing, it probably won’t happen tonight. I did start a couple poems last night, but they both need some editing. Maybe I will work on that in a bit. Or maybe I will just go to sleep. Hopefully my body allows me to move tomorrow. Hopefully my pen finds the inkwell.


Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Unreal Summer

I wrote this poem for a competition on one of the websites I publish on.  I know it's not like much of the stuff I've written. But it was fun to write, I think it's fun to read  and for a little while, it's fun to imagine this unreal summer.

On November 27, 2012 I linked this poem to Open Link Night at

To the moon I said
For our summer recess
If for no other reason
Than to feel weightlessness
We'll jump over a crater
And grab some moon rocks
as souvenirs.
But, said the boss
The cost is high
The risk is great
And the temperature is
Oh so low at night
Why don’t we we stay local instead
And see what our world has to offer
we flew to London
To see Big Ben
And castles
And knights
We saw a princess
But nary a queen
From there we took a train
Through the ocean
To Paris and around
We ate croissants
And drank some wine
We learned to speak French
And we saw the Eiffel Tower.
We toured and saw
Glimpses of the past
From Vatican City
To the Rock of Gibraltar
From the white cliffs of Dover
To the hills of Transylvania
We saw it all, soaked it up
We raced through small countries
Monaco and Lichenstein
one day saw them all
Then off to the east
the land of Haiku
We watched a tea ceremony
pretended we were Samurai.
Off to the wall
Extending into the distance
As far as we could see
Then into Russia
We rode on the steppes,
thought we were Cossacks
As we headed back west
There really was nothing
Rotten about Denmark
The people were grand
As we travelled their land
We headed back south
To hug a Koala
We saw the Southern Cross
Mountains like tables
Lakes long dried up
Africa gave us
Safaris and diamonds
we talked to the locals
So similiar to us
Looking for peace and love
One last stop
To go through the canal
Then off to the beaches
And parties of Rio
We headed back north
Towards the pole
The summer turned into fall
Finally back home
We arrived around noon
It really was great
To see what we saw,
to do what we did
But next year I think
We'll go to the moon.

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

August 28, 2012

A good day it was. I worked at one of my favorite locations, my nephew from Coaldale showed up for a two day visit, I had a pretty good round of golf and we watched an awesome movie. Wow, huh? But did you write anything of import, I would ask? And, if I was wont to talking to myself, I would have to be honest and say no. I may yet pen the start of a poem. Or I may not. It's getting late. But inspiration is returning. My eyes are opening again to the wonderful things and people around me that I can write about. It feels good. Run with it! Write with it!

Monday, August 27, 2012

August 27, 2012

I may have just written my quirkiest poem to date. I was inspired by a fellow poet, a brilliant talent. She convinced me to write about the first thing I see. So, tonight when I crawled into bed, I looked out my window. And saw the moon. I took up the advice of my fellow poet, and wrote. It may not be a masterpiece, it may not be very good at all. But it is a poem. And I am proud of it. It was a neat way to find inspiration, and I will do it again soon. But not tonight. It's time to sleep. Goodnight moon.

Saturday, August 25, 2012

August 25, 2012

A million words are running in my brain, and do you think I can string together any of them to form a coherent thought? No. Not a chance. I am confident that I am on the verge of penning another poem or two that I will be proud of. I just have to wait for the exact moment in which to write. I'll know it when it shows up. I have had this before. My best work (not saying it's good, just that it's the best I got) has been those writings that flow very quickly out of my fingertips, and require very little, if any, editing. Unfortunately, those moments happen either when I am in the shower (and have to mad scramble out and head for my nearest writing device) or at 3 in the morning (when I scramble for nothing and promptly forget the brilliant words). Such is my lot. It's coming again. I can feel it. Now I need to decide if I want to shower or sleep. Judging by the time, I will sleep. See you at 3am, words. And I'll forget you by 3:07.

Thursday, August 23, 2012

August 23, 2012

Over the past couple days, I have written two poems. I am pleased with both of them, although I may do some editing on the one I wrote today. The one I wrote a couple days ago will never see the light of Fifafan, because it is not family friendly. My wife read it, and liked it. That's all that matters. I also published a poem, which I hope is well received. It is hard to know what people think...I get very little feedback. But that's ok. I love the journey I take when I write a new poem, and the wonderful feeling of accomplishment when I deem one ready for publishing. Feedback is a bonus, not validation. The journey is why I write. Travel on!

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Fading Reality

I try to recall
the last time
I saw you
but the memory is faint
It used to be so easy
to imagine your face,
to envision your body
Yes, it was so clear
Something has changed
not in you, but in me
Your features fail
Your shape disappears
Driven by fantasy
I recreate you
into what I think
you should be
I know it's not real
A trick of the mind
My tears well up
You're simply not there
I long to see you again
If only to fuel
What can only be
A dream.

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

Iced Capp Recipe

For those of you who asked, here it is.  The recipe for iced capps. This recipe is very adjustable...try different things!

2-3 tsp instant coffee (I used Nescafe French Vanilla Instant coffee)
1 tsp sweetner
3 tbsp warm water
6oz milk
1 tray frozen water

I do the following in my Single Shot Magic Bullet

Mix (shake it) warm water, sugar and coffee until frothy
Add milk and a tray of ice cubes
Mix in Magic Bullet


Saturday, August 18, 2012

August 18, 2012

6 days it has been since I've written anything. I think that I am missing the purpose of this journal. I am supposed to write everyday so that I stay in the habit of writing. Even my poetry has suffered at the expense of laziness. I search for inspiration, but nothing comes to me. But I don't think it is a lack of inspiration is a thing where I am not writing. Or reading. I have mentioned before that to need to read in order to write. I need to get re-focused. That is my promise to myself. To get back in the groove. I am looking forward to getting creative again.

Sunday, August 12, 2012

August 12, 2012

I may have made a mistake. I have not been writing as much as I would like, and I have not penned a poem worth its weight in ink for quite some time. Why? Or better yet...why not? This brings me back to the mistake I referred to. When I started writing poetry, I wrote for me. I wrote the words that somehow appeared at my fingertips. I found inspiration all around me...mostly in the people I like and love. Emotion and passion were there. But something changed. I became complacent. I stopped seeing the inspiration.  Worst of all, I stopped writing. Again. This is a common problem in my life. I stop writing. Not even my journal was receiving any love. I am feeling quite low at this point. But, it will not be the end. I am going to fight my way through this and start writing again. I may not publish a poem on my website or any other website for a bit. But I will write. I will compose. Good grief, I may even rhyme something. Won't that be a change?


To Be Your Friend

What would it be like
to be with you
as a friend
a confidante?
I'd love to talk with you
to walk with you
as we make our way
towards the rainbow
Will you trust me
with your secrets?
With your cares
and worries?
I would share
my emotions.
But could you
cry with me?
Your tears would blend
with the rain that falls
Our laughter
echoing like thunder
I'd hold your hand
if only to see
how well
it fits.
I'd hug you
to know
how well our bodies
Mostly I would listen
to your heart,
your voice.
Friend. Forever.

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

August 7, 2012

Here I sit, in the heat…drinking a cold homebrew, and wondering what to write. I have a couple poems on the go, but I need to do some editing on them.  None of them is close to my best stuff, but hopefully I can change that. I am exercising patience. I think I have to get into the habit (again) of writing down my ideas when they come to me. I had some really positive thoughts earlier today, but failed to make a note of them. Not good, because now I have forgotten them. Hopefully they return. But not at 2 in the morning. That would make me angry. But for now, I am serene and relaxed. I hope it lasts.


Saturday, August 4, 2012


what can withstand
the hottest fire
steel is melted
into swords
love and passion
melt into nothing
from the heat
of the forge
burning inside
tears fall
into a pool
of despair
on your knees
an anguished soul
water drenches
flames to embers
the fury of hate
of lust, of anger
holds no sway
on the penitent
look to the cross
sacrifice of one
for many
rejoice always