Friday, December 20, 2013

laundry day: when it's all been said

Words should always have
the momentum
to take us somewhere
but often we leave them
stretched like laundry
between you and I
and there they stay
until I reel them back in
or, like this morning, unable
to look at them
for one more fucking day
I head to the window
to cut them down.

But you must have known
because you got there first
and now stand
arms full of what was.

I wave, sheepish scissors in hand
Remember that day,
you finally said hello?
It was a good day.

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

no choice

i sometimes forget
to remember you

then i'm packing
snapshots of us
silly and freckled
and a tiny ache creeps in

this is one more moment
you chose to miss

Thursday, October 17, 2013

deep in october

fog is always
a damp blanket
to bundle against
(with wool)
making streetlight
beams through trees
and i filter it all
my lashes
so heavy
i can see each one

a love song for autumn

Tuesday, July 9, 2013


The hill is grass prickle soft
and the sky in sunset layers
surprises me every time
always there and never the same.

I glance away
and that indescribable I must capture this moment

So I bargain
What if I lie really still?
To not miss this moment, I'll even hold my breath!

But it's gone.

The hill is harder than I thought
and my shirt shiver clings damp to my back
as I walk home and exhale next time
I promise not to blink.

Wednesday, July 3, 2013

freckled remembrance

Goosepimple shiver
Huddle shuffle close
You know in summer
how skin turns goldencrisp
and you stay out late just to feel
your shoulder cool
against your cheek.  I think we did that. 

Afraid of ambersinged souls, we sat until sunset passed
and our outsides no longer exceeded core temperature
Side by side until on cool shoulders
and your top lip
only freckles remembered.

Thursday, June 27, 2013

never so solid

i am never big or brave
but sometimes i walk
home with my eyes closed

(tonight i lay, my head on tree roots
gnarled, just to see what it would be like
to be someone who lies on the ground)

but i don’t talk to dark
strangers, difference separates us
more than their side of the street
to mine

and though sometimes
i crouch, wait, spring
to see if i make it

i am never brave
just flushed, thrilled
to still be

so solid

Sunday, April 28, 2013

how to say this

It is complicated to articulate
a self that's changing, the in-process-being

It is hard to know this self because at any
one moment I could become something new

The something I thought I knew
informing a belief I was sure I had
suddenly dust cupped in my hands

And so

Now I am different than just a moment ago
and I worry that if I tell you who I am
right now, at this seemingly pivotal moment
you'll find me uncertain of certain things
and three minutes from now you'll find a liar

But you see, I'm holding these things sacred
and then wind or maybe it's the breath of God
blows on me and like wishing dandelions do
I vanish

And remain
as something new

Friday, March 22, 2013

this year i think i finally get what all the palm fronds were about

hands press skirt
damply to knees knobby
and proper
waiting for the smoothing out
of life wrinkle run snag tear

somewhere along here
you said
or they said
the point is someone

that if i counted to one hundred
every night and made ritual of floss prayer please thank you
my hair would shine
my teeth never rot
and my touch would turn to gold

three cavities and frizzy hair later
i wait
for light radiant touch on freckled soul
the lifting up, wiping off, kleenex giving
of a savior come

smooth save renew with spit on your thumb
and needle and thread
come soon

Sunday, February 3, 2013

bre mcdaniel releases her first ep: hello starlight

hello starlight release party: an evening with bre

It was foggy-cold-dark on Railway St. in East Van, I couldn't find the place and had begun to rethink the whole plan, and then, in a window, an 8 x 11" poster reassured me: Hello Starlight. Tucked away in the same block where her brother Matthew lives (find him on her EP producing and playing various instruments), Anchor Guitar Studio was just the place for an evening of music (and a little magic).

I already knew that Bre had put a lot of time and love into her EP, and as the evening moved along it became clear that she had been equally loving in the creation of that night, the night that Hello Starlight was to enter the world.

covering Fleetwood Mac's Landslide

A little like story-time at the library when I was a kid, we gathered around, packing every nook of Anchor Guitar Studio, listening to Bre and her special guests (Matthew, Steph, Faith, Andrew, Jason Lowe, Josh and Sam) as they told us stories. 

It was an evening of friendship, running into old and meeting new. Brought together by our love of Bre, or a friend's cousin who once heard her play at Montmartre's, we chatted, laughed and listened away the hours.

The music carried the night as music tends to do, but it was the thoughtful choice of location, the group of friends coming together, and the casual touches of whimsy (because with Bre, there is always whimsy) that made it a night lovely for memory.

And now, a hint.

Support Bre by clicking Like on Facebook: Bre McDaniel and buying her EP Hello Starlight.

Sunday, January 27, 2013


the moment after you cut ties
i began the wait for
faded sadness

but i feel you under my skin
just like then
when the sun-bright world
near killed me
(some compensation for light

eyelid-thin is the distance
between us
and the years have nothing to say
that makes you further away
and waiting does not know how
to mend this chest-gap

so stay
under my skin
where you always liked to be
and we'll be
never separate