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AN INTERROGATION OF THE "REAL" IN ALL ITS GUISES



Hamm: What's happening?
Clov: Something is taking its course.
Beckett




Friday, 29 September 2023

Orange Shirt Day - Reflections

The very first step is a kind of recognition that some injustice has occurred. It might not see the full scope of that injustice, but it recognizes that here, to our fellow Canadians, something very wrong has happened.

It follows that someone who has this recognition will dig deeper, through a process of self-education (at this very early stage), into the history of these events. It will soon be seen that a profound tragedy has taken place, a profound injustice, to these peoples, the original inhabitants of these beautiful lands. And though I have had no hand in any kind of direct action against them, one will soon see that this injustice was done in my name, that is, the Canadian.

Very soon the impulse to “make things right” will arise in the heart. After much more reading, and listening to those who have been impacted, it will become evident that it is not possible to “make things right”, that such an event, or series of events have occurred on such a scale and quality that something irreversible has taken place.

One will also be filled with uncertainties about the role one should play, what right one has to even speak or participate in such a “making right”.

I am of the opinion that, as a Canadian, I can first, recognize the injustice; second, name it and draw attention to it; third, continue to try to understand and educate myself, either through reading of histories or through the very words of those who have survivedand finally, I can take part in initiatives that seek to address the wrongs done and look for some kind of way forward.

But most importantly: Listen. Not to me and my reflections here, but to the indigenous peoples of Canada. My intentions are good, but I haven’t lived their lives.

Please don’t harden your heart.

Monday, 11 September 2023

this time of year

this time of year
is you to me,
even absence is in the 
cool autumn air,
in fading light and the
fading flowers of the 
forest glades
tired crickets give their
final performance
before cold solidifies the
grass and earth,
i wear a sweater that
reminds me of you,
i swear your scent is 
on its threads 
in the place you
rested your head
when i kissed it,
when i gave my heart
to a friend












Friday, 8 September 2023

gifted

you are a gift,
and in my deep gratitude 
there is longing:
when will my blue eyes 
reflect your face?
when will your touch
speak of the warmest presence?
how old we have become 
upon the thin green plane,
rarer than any jewel 
desired by blurry-eyed men,
it is the inevitability of it
all,
and our faded memory of
a truth known our first-breath's
moment.
our default: complacency,
but has our love 
ever been satisfied?
i burn with Being's immanence
like the newborn star,
terrible, but the
giver of a 
beautiful intensity.