One Little Look

A look.

Just one look provides

a muted glimpse into

the future.

Playing personal journeys

close to the vest,

they absorb knowledge

and exude attitude...

and wait their turn

in life.

Plans run amuck in their

young minds.

Thoughts, ideas

collide in differing

swings of momentum.

Mocking the man,

scorning establishment...

patiently abiding the day

when the balance of power

is passed on to them.

When the cask is full,

vim and vigor wield the sceptre

of strength and rule. But they

will look...

one little look

into eyes that burn

with passion

for the future.

Inspired by the students at McNally High School who sat through my presentation on poetry.

Linked for the patrons at the pub to enjoy.

The Old Homestead

He stood along side

the dusty road,

familiarity bred

contempt for what

he saw across

fields of yellow wheat.

The old house stood

forlorn

abandoned to memories

that refused to be

rebuilt into pleasant

thoughts.

Cedar shakes fall

down into what was

a room, where animosity

and repulsion played games

of love and tenderness.

Hidden amongst the

waving grass

lies a door,

long fallen from its hinges,

to be used no more

as a portal into

what should have been

safety.

Glass mason jars,

stacked in rickety old

cupboards,

carry nothing but dust,

a glimpse of the only hope

this place has for the future.

Haunting creaks and moans

echo up a derelict

staircase, a warning to

anyone who dares enter.

Nothing has changed,

misery abides in darkness.

Nowhere to hide,

no protection from

the elements.

Windows have long been

shattered like the dreams

of the boy who once

called this place

home.

Alas, he stood on the road,

tears on his wind-swept

cheeks. The memory of

running, the thrill

of the escape as

that old house was

engulfed in the flames

of his broken heart. 

Overflowing

I haven't written for the patrons at the pub for a while, so this one is for them. Cheers!

Mistakes. Part of life,

says this foolish man

who has made plenty.

Aye, my cup is full

with remnants of memories.

Rash decisions that seemed

good at the time.

That very cup used to hold

a heart, beating wildly

with thoughts of a future

planned to perfection.

(was this the mistake?)

Listening to rules,

feeling guilty about being

so unsure...doubting everything.

Doubt lingers, the cup

spills over with present,

past and future.

Mistakes of the past

often turn into

blessings for the future.

Erroneous choices don't define

who I turned out to be.

Doubt gets redefined

to wondering

(what if?)

Mistakes I have made,

and will make again.

But I've learned to drink

from the cup

so it doesn't

overflow.

March 6, 2013

Good evening, dear reader.

Do you see the change? The website has officially moved to Google. This transition was the one I was dreading most, and to be honest I was not even sure I was going to do it. Fifafan.ca has been hosted by MacHighway for quite a while, and they have been a wonderful host. I also enjoyed working with Wordpress a lot. Leaving MacHighway and Wordpress comes with some disadvantages. I no longer have my @fifafan.ca email addresses. I no longer have the customization ability that Wordpress gives me. Those are the two main ones. But change is as good as the rest, and I admit that going Google will give me a little more piece of mind. I no longer have to worry about my site getting hacked because of an outdated piece of code lingering about in the database. I no longer have to worry about remembering to do the updates of the many plugins that I used in Wordpress. I no longer have to pay for a webhost. And I can post to my blog by email! Yes the decision to move was hard, but in the end I will be happy with it. I can still customize the look quite a bit, so it will stay fresh. And so, my full transition to Google Apps is almost complete. As I've always said...Google is my friend.

Until next time, good night.

FF

Heartbeat

Written for the patrons at the pub.

Within a single heartbeat

echoes of love

shape the very manner

in which we work

together.

 

Inwardly our minds turn

we listen to the cadence

of every romantic

thought that fills

our mind.

 

Our fervour reaches deep

into that place,

that oh so special place,

where body, soul and mind

become one.