Godiva
she rides
through the autumn
some slender
Godiva
she hides in her
gossamer veils
the white horse
beneath her
rides into the
ether
behind her the
universe sails
and she doesn’t
know who she is
and she doesn’t
know what she does
she’s just some
lost Godiva
gone naked into
the mist
she’s just some
lost Godiva
vanishing into
the mist
Pinewoods Lament
In a little log
cabin in the Rockies
Where squirrels
and whiskey jacks play
I long for my
home down the valley
And for you
though you've gone away.
I remember when
you and I were young dear
And our love
shone as bright as the sun
We'd lay on the
grass near your roses
And I'd feel our
hearts beat as one.
Your pink roses
still grow wild on the hillside
And the wild
flowers bloom every year
And I hear your
voice in the pinewoods
Soft whisper
that tells me you're near.
Now you lay
there peaceful beneath the roses
Where the wild
flowers bloom every year
And I know for
me you are waiting
As softly I shed
another tear.
Through the
pinewoods the breeze softly whispers
Calling me to
lay down by your side
And I'll be with
you by the springtime
Beneath your
roses growing wild.
"You took the
words right out of my mouth
it must have been
while you were kissing me"
(Jim Steinman)
Holding My Breath
Why are you
holding my breath
making me wait
'til I can live again
waiting for me
is like death
you know I can
never be just your friend
What do you want
me to do
how can I wait
'til you tell me yes
not knowing if
maybe is no
how can you
leave me in such distress
Why are you
making me wait
knowing full
well how much I love you
do you think
your love is just bait
you know I am
already hooked on you.
Can't you see
what you do
don't you know
how I feel
oh how you make
me reel
from the wanting
of you
while you're
just holding my breath
Out Of The Inkwell
and then it came
to me
I have never
known you
I see you like a
dream
image painted in
light
flashes behind a
glass
darkly but face
to face
the light dims
and you fade
as a film fades
to black
mirror world
without end
reveals my face
slowly
I become that
shadow
seen through
this dark glass
inkwell that
births a clown
face to face
with myself
Voices In The Wind
children wait in
the walls
walk through
empty hallways
are heard in
sundown winds
live forever in
the woods
come to me each
child cries
we wait here for
our release
our school is
out forever
come to us and
set us free
each voice on
the wind cries out
bring me home to
my people
bring me back
and set me free
do not let me
stay here longer
a thousand cries
ride the wind
a thousand more
are waiting
cries of spirits
hid too long
waiting in the
walls and woods
no priest had
the right to erase
no official the
power to redact
the spirit of a
living child
in a wall or in
a field forever
thousands wait
in the walls
walk the vacant
hallways
cry on the wind
for justice
insist to be
heard at last
BOB MACKENZIE
BOB MACKENZIE grew up near the
foothills of the Rocky Mountains in rural Alberta with artist parents. His father was a professional photographer
and musician and his mother a photo technician, colourist, and painter. By the age of five, he had his own camera and
ever since has been shooting photographs and writing poems and stories. Raised in this environment, young Bobby
developed a natural affinity for photography and for the intricacies of
language. He now lives and writes in
Kingston, Ontario, Canada. Bob’s writing has appeared in more than 400 journals
across North America and as far away as Australia, Greece, India, and Italy. He
has published nineteen volumes of poetry and prose-fiction and his work has
appeared in numerous anthologies. He's
received numerous local and international awards for his writing as well as an
Ontario Arts Council grant for literature, a Canada Council Grant for
performance, and a Fellowship to attend the Summer Literary Seminars in
Tbilisi, Georgia. For eighteen years Bob’s poetry was spoken and sung live with
original music by the ensemble Poem de Terre, and the group released six
albums.
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