First kiss

Began with a simple hi there hello,

In the midst of an application’s glow

Laughing at all my silly jokes

until truths are told from head to toe,

of one heart smashed four lonely years ago;

one absent love where passions spill,

like a lions full stomach ignores

the scent of a kill.

Meeting under the brightly lit Christmas tree

Lighting our faces over half past three,

in the middle of downtowns Robson square,

you stared into my soul,

with those blue ocean eyes-

Frolicking until our harmonious bodies flow;

to a windy cold nights transcending streetlit dance

– watery drops drum drum drum down-

atop an umbrellas protective embracing kindness,

under Sealed warming’s breath…

This first night

– first Kiss;

Robson Square

Dracula’s little children

Dracula’s little Children

After a long month where a rehabilitating cough causing an abrupt visit to a local ER room, a condo fire causing displacement, and now a threat of the blood sucking head feasting populations of mini vampires whom have crept unannounced and uninvited into the home where I now rest my eyes – until a new contentment can be found, in this day almost impossible as there are a surge of apartment dwellers looking to suck the applications out of management – at least 100 per liveable space – have made this their cave.

So today I travel to a backyard clinic on the side of a mountain in PQ. Not unlike an underground wicka practitioner summoning an ancient Romanian curse the scene is somewhat surreal with quite a breathtaking view, contrasts the nerves suddenly awakening in my Java filled belly, I whisk to the back entrance where the marked “Lice Clinic” Marks the way down a series of rounding stairways to a door.

I walk in , greeted by a super nice European lady aka the nice lice lady. I grab a seat and am inspected further with comb in hand for any signs of the micro Dracula’s posë. After about 5 minutes I am told they do not like testosterone, a compound I am certain to be overflowing in, and usually keep away from mens hair, after that I am confidently told I am clear of the evil jumping bloodsuckers so I do not have to worry about transforming into an immortal night dweller, although that kinda sounds like a fun time…

Interestingly enough Mr Bean is on the included tele in an episode of Mr. Bean at the ER, a subtle coincidence, as I wait for the rest of the family to be treated.

Great start to the day!

Now to find a new lair…

Mount PQ

Zone 2.

Lets get real right now, I have only been to prison as a mere passerby so as I sit hacking out my tonsils onto the zone two laminate tilling in the white rock hospital emergency room, I am called to have my arm plugged with a 25 Guage 1.5 inch needle tip with a hollow opening to force my red blood cells to follow into a plastic casing. The patient next to me a nice local lady I learnt she was in for somewhat of a burnt toast smell she encountered earlier in the morning and as I chat with my new friend I suggest wittingly -I might add – that the nurse should just tie my blood catheter Into the morphine cart, we have a moment of childlike giggles and she mentions this is her 8th hour in normal pop to wait for tests. At this point I am thinking to scratch it altogether, however the continuing spasms emulating from my throat suggested otherwise, it’s now or never sleep.

The doctor , surgical cap still on head, delegates into our wing -we represent zone two the cough to you drop crew over here- He continues over to the burnt toast lady to go over her test results so of course I go into my trance of pretending I am staring off into another detention area but really I am trying to sneak a listen.

“So the x-rays came back and there are some dark spots that are very concerning, you are free to go but we will have to schedule an examination with a specialist.”

I look over to her to offer anything comforting, hey let’s go steal some motorized wheelchairs and get you the goods.

She laughs and we laugh, the desk nurse looked at us as if we were crazy, ya that’s right don’t mess with z2 biotch!. She laughed, I coughed. ZONE 2.

The day (based on a dream)

Just a rumble through the grassy clay

Atop the highest western cliff

tress fall over from decades of undisturbed growth

ocean fading away, drowning in a vortex’s Flay.

Birds scurry to higher grounds,

land shakes beneath a lovers retreated.

Destined for gloomy days ahead,

water spreads,

unbiased in its sullen undefeated ,

unknowing folks suddenly found dead,

a warning of tidal wave’s


If only this

forgetting for the day.


Sci fi dream

As I lay in the caribbean humidity, comfy in the queen sized bed, even as the ancient air compressor works to purify the moist atmosphere from its wetness, tossing and turning, I recall a nightmare scene from a movie not yet developed from a sweltering fade of a dream, heat waving as if in all present reality a behind the scene view of a presumptuous happening into the future, or premonition for the spiritual folk.

It is a scene straight out of sci fi horror flick including many of the cast and people involved in a recent theater group Performance. I seem to have been cast as a political villain, one in charge of trying to rid the world of joy, rebellious activities such as dancing and romance which is deemed to be unlawful in this world.

I wake up to being caught loving someone and against my own laws, being cast out by the threat of death, an outlaw on the run searching for answers.

Thrust into the furnace of chaos and chased from the worlds authorities, this would be villainous hero rides the blasting seas trying to rid the world of the unnatural laws being imposed on the people. A far reach of a character for my indulgences and perhaps a bit overzealous, this persona was imagined up in the blood vessels of my mind, nonetheless.

yWith new technology the group is on the run from the Dominion, using new radar devices and scrambling machines, they weave and move their way with a great mechanical engineering genius machines made for land, sea and air. A race to find the relics of the past and use the ancient knowledge to bring a world back to nature and its indigenous roots. The very way the land was used not to own but to endure everlasting restoration.


I remember the first time we met,

Your old car broken down on the side of the road,

like my life before here

shattered against the floor

a heavy mug with nothing inside

held only by a tip of a finger high.

I was interested in your thoughts

your ranting about work for hours and hours

and helping to understand your fuelling desires,

talk of security in numbers of others work

so that you could live in a preferred way of life

and now I am moved on to better days,

that you seek; I have come into fate,

for now it is you who comes back

to ask for me now, but it is too late.

Fuel Mageddon Now

The universe has spoken. As I parked my withered BMW to do my duty in fighting a viral uprising like unforeseen dangers in a vietcong jungle – Having the newly released Acapcalypse Now fresh in from viewing- My surviving shell was attacked by a flashing fire of white fibreglass, then like a coward, crushing past to vanish into another distant far off landscape, smoke billowing from the ether…

Usually I would retaliate en pursuit but these days are full of light and forgiveness, even in the trenches of the aftermath. I Really do not like the smell of crushed metal and broken dreams in the late afternoon…Just trying to get home here in one piece. Maybe I know a little what they felt in those jungle s , just maybe – Broken. This is a test of my mindfulness, a signal from some other unknown, stop and listen to the heart, this was a fuel consuming earth destroying machine, time to let it go.

“Echo one to River 7, we need a tow to the nearest station stat.”

“Roger Echo one, it’s choppy out there today, ETA 4 hours…”

•Roger that River 7, digging in…”

Eve of a New Year

Photo by Maria Orlova from Pexels

Today marks the end of a year – a year like a day at the local carnival, roller-coasting up and down in variable degrees of happiness to which our money is sucked into a callers game, hopeful of winning peace and prize even if designed to never be beaten.

The day started well, a bit anxious as time with family soon comes to an end. Travelling back to The city leaving behind this quiet town to its best. Tonight however will be different because we have decided to take advantage of new years happenings and venture out into the city to explore its offerings while other major cities are completely locked down. I have never been one for staying with the norms, lets see if the year can end in bliss instead of sorrow and besides its not my fault the local government wishes to stay open legally urging eager participants after a new unending threat strengthens in the headlines, one last day to socialize until what might be a full Imprisonment of freedom, everywhere.

Pulling up to the local Olive Garden at 8:00pm we had thought there would be quite a long wait this being a pay day for most working folk but inherently the cold coupled with the rapid acceleration of Omicron infections has postponed festivities for even the warmest of people. Apparently the left wing has rubbed its ideology among the pc loyalists or its just fricken cold out, I’m going with the latter.

The meal is large enough accompanied with non stop bread and Salad; after Christmas baking feasts of unknown amounts of starch frolicking 3:00 am splurges we may need to look at intense interval and cardio training for the foreseen future, if this wasn’t enough we decide to opt for a side of more dippy goods to start with – whatever, who cares at this point, “waiter! more breadsticks!”

One thing that is for sure there is an unconditional love that binds family together to infinity and beyond, like an unseen connection of the wacky effects of electrons who are joined in two places at the same time anywhere in the universe in the quantum world, we know so little of the universe, maybe if we were to use these principals and instead learn to better understand we could eradicate hunger, global warming, homelessness or even find a compromise to war notwithstanding this new war with Covid, instead of spending billions on rockets to reach a far off planet…come one, come all aboard!

…Will miss you family but duty calls, whatever that is!


Dancing in the street

Simply Looking for something eat

working everyday 9 to 5

living on minimum wage

only just to survive.

Wondering what life could be like

just to be me, no judgeing

living life high

on a thrilride

because this is enough

this is me

Lets move together,

Dance in the street

Dancing in the street..

One day in our kingdom

we walk to our freedom

come all along

just as one

wake up and move your feet

Photo by Darina Belonogova from Pexels

Dancing in the street.

Lets give it our all

fakers be haters

lovers keep the heat

here is where we meet.

dancing in the street.

Last night I was liquified

hurting everybody I meet

Today this is not me

because now We are

Dancing in the street

Pulling into the hookah bar

east of 20 and three

dj spinning his latests beats

get up to move to the rythym

sliding from seat to seat

but the poppos come rushing

to the scene

because these days

the only move.

Is dancing in the street.

Photo by Edward Eyer from Pexels

I don’t know what this means

when we cant even get up out of our seats

goodbye to the home of the young and free

because this is life now,

Dancing in the street



From a simple hi in a grocery store
to a late night calling a taxi,
in line at a pub washroom

Or simply passing by on a street.

oh Love can be unexpected,
at a wedding dance
or stopping in for a mid noon coffee treat

It’s just that what’s encountered in daily life is not very special,

Do you think it’s okay to be single?

Why don’t you find a wife?

Well I don’t wish for a normal life;

if that is the deal;

we never know when we can fall for someone,

exciting and real…

Cooking Without Limits

Food Photography & Recipes

Belladonna’s Flashlight

The One Where She Stumbled Through Her 40's

The writer's blogk


Short Prose

Poetry and Short Prose by #1 Amazon Best-Selling Author Gabriela Marie Milton

Tootlepedal's Blog

A look at life in the borders

Bagni di Lucca and Beyond

Brisbane, Bagni di Lucca and everything in between

John Wreford Photographer

Words and Pictures from the Middle East

Our French Oasis


In Flow with Otto

Creativity is within us all

KDD & Co

Award-winning Scottish publishing and design

Whispering Gums

Books, reading and anything else that comes to mind...with an Australian focus...on Ngunnawal Country

Drinking Tips for Teens

Creative humour, satire and other bad ideas by Ross Murray, an author living in the Eastern Townships of Quebec, Canada. Is it truth or fiction? Only his hairdresser knows for sure.


Where Story meets Understanding

The Atavist Magazine

Where Story meets Understanding

WordPress.com News

The latest news on WordPress.com and the WordPress community.

%d bloggers like this: