Tuesday, 3 October 2017


"be faithful in small things
because it is in them - that your strength lies"

Mother Teresa


ok, I see things
it's an assumption

that fundamentally, we're all equal - embedded in the constitution
here in Canada especially - then there's "karma" 
then there's reality - the judgements - the walls of shame 
the psychopaths we've worked under
hanging on to our squishy hope on a rope  
dangling in the media maze
welcome to the fear factory - centuries of criminal behavior

conditionally condoned

adverse conditions creating chaos - abort alpha one charlie delta fox 
I'm going down - mayday - mayday - mayday
"requesting an emergency rescue evac - unknown co-ordinates 
on fire - crash and burn scenario subject seduction - with respect
just get your ass into the situation - now sir"

  I need a healer

"a man is but the product of his thoughts 
what he thinks, he becomes"

Mahatma Gandhi 

going down in flames
little chance of recovery
fading voices - shadowy shape shifters
downward spiral - blunt force - smoke - fire -
reverberation - condemnation into redemption
a shady relapse into consciousness - maybe
who are you - where did you come from
why are you here

she lies next to me in silence - shields down - surrender 
darkened room - in port - docked - respite repair
only it's a haze - a dream - years ago with her
is this real

in our bedroom - early on

reaching over and touching my wounded shoulder during intimacy
when time stood still - before anything mattered - this
 a genuine gesture that feels good - caring
in war crimes - realizing time is short
in this moment - stillness


"you - are a healer", a simple acknowledgement 
spoken quietly in the presence of grace and humility
empathy - compassion - deliverance - she receives the message in form
no expectation - only loving, accepting resolve - nothing matters
only what is right here - right now ... you are everything
and you are nothing

"shhh - close your eyes now - sleep dear"

that caress along my receding hair line
that soft kiss on my cheek - drifting
into slumber  - ah

it's a return to something that happened
a long time ago - in a land
far far away

"the wound ... is the place where the light enters you"


no attachment - no shame - no pretension - no fallout - no "discussion"
no need to pretend and/or hide behind anything 
no cruel constructions  - no walls of blame - no borderlines
it's simple, I think - it's all about "listening" (not speaking)  
the truth ultimately unfolds in receiving information
taking it in gently

some people make you feel good - inspired - healthy
and others make you feel sick - it's a power thing - to prove something
starting with mom and dad - a negotiation in numbness - carrying on later
gutter garbage - kept in a box in our closet - years pass
the relentless ramifications in retarded rules

karmic attraction - why am I pulled into you
you're sick and I still love you

when she walks into a room  
my heart goes bing - bang - boom - "mommy"!
waking from a dream at 5am - heart pounding - so real OMG 
so right there - I could touch her - shivering shaking
I feel cold

my pillow soaked in saliva and tears - it smells
my sweaty sheets drenched in overworked mind play
can't sleep now - awake until the morning light

frigid - nonetheless - thinking - staring
into a dark room that only reminds me of mortality
hours turning into days
wondering - what if
hours and hours in somnia - in mourning 
remembering - reality
she's gone

we all are conditioned to give and take according to the plan
braised on high heat from the very beginning - barbecued chicken 
 deliciously sauced and served with a side of our choice 

the daily posturing - elevated success - breakthrough yet again 
or so we think - rest and reflection rules - the jugular juggler
distant distraction - losing focus for a split second - shit
balls falling randomly to the floor - and yet still - catching calmness
we all make mistakes - we all have regrets - we're human

I forgive you

I've been thanking myself a lot lately - it works - thank you

for staying true to who I am
for not always submitting to the prisons that contain and control me
for letting myself breathe again - for allowing myself to be alive  
thank you - actually saying it out loud to myself
it's amazing - acknowledging self - ongoing
praising wisdom

it's not easy but it's doable - a return to the senses 
back to natural order - peace - and so

when I work out - thank you
when I eat a salad - thank you
when I show compassion towards someone - thank you
when I take care of myself

the healer is a conduit of electrical energy 
seen externally but realized internally
embracing fear and the unknown - knowing that life can be fair 
despite the odds

for some it's religion - for others it's faith 
for others it's a simple good nights sleep
awakening into resolution and refreshment  
for me it's all of the above
I am thank-full - yes god - the affirmation
the adoration returning

thank you

we are still children - who need to be loved
we are still teenagers - who need to be loved
we are still adults - who need to be loved

we all become old and nimble
ashes to ashes - dust to dust - I want to say it again - please
just one more time - only this time - meaning it
"I do"

and so dear friends - a coming of ages
late in the game - a game changer
better late than never


it doesn't matter who I am - or what I stand for
it's not about my conquests or my fears, regrets
accomplishments - mistakes
none of that

it's about my intention
in willingness to let go of everything
lose the baggage

right here - right now

"a lie cannot live"

Martin Luther King

I think she's trying to send me a signal

yes - up there ... see it

"mommy - I'm right here
over here - I'm cold mommy"
"I didn't lie - promise - ah shit
ok maybe once"
 - sending -

"I'm ready to come home now
do you read me?"

mommy - daddy
where are you
I'm lost 

all those promises
you made
it's dark

no quarter - over
and out 


Wednesday, 20 September 2017

cowboys and indians

"the only thing that can stop a bad guy with a gun
is a good guy with a gun"

(Wayne LaPierre, NRA - National Rifle Association/USA)

there's a storm on the horizon

it's been brewing for some time now
becoming more and more visible
it's getting closer
and closer

it was a game we boys played as kids
in Woodstock Ontario back in the 60's
people of colour only on television
in black and white

one dressed as a cowboy and another as an indian
the cowboy is a good guy, the indian is bad
(obviously and in keeping with the script)

harmless fun really, stuff we saw on our 14" monochrome TVs
Daniel Boone and F-Troop - shows like that after school

twenty years before MTV
thirty years before the internet 
forty years before the iPhone
fifty years before Donald Trump

spreading peanut butter 
on my bleached white wonder bread
in a world bereft of imagination; dimension
my afternoon treat with grape jelly sometimes
in Ontario Canada - normal stuff that meant nothing
just eating - chewing - swallowing

oh right ... commercials
the price we pay to watch television
"wrongful death" and "dog bites"
my personal faves


oK, I really got it later on in life

visiting Ybor City Florida - near Tampa in late December 2004
New Year's eve actually - BIG football game - parade
it's still early, drifting towards the midnight hour
it's warm here - tropic thunder in the distance
most men packin' a concealed firearm
just in case someone
needs an adjustment

stepping off the plane in Fort Lauderdale a week earlier
leaving a brutal cold winter in Toronto
thinking - wow - this is paradise
palm trees - warm weather here
realizing something different
in a few short days

right, like everyone's obese here.  ok - half
transexual transformation billboards - personal injury law firms
super-sized families at Denny's whipped cream emporium
gorging on the American dream - scrambled eggs
and steak or sausages, pancakes
home fried taters and gravy
texas toast and jam 
pie and ice cream

all you can eat
git-ter while she's hot

ordering way more than they need
because they can wrap it up and take it home
to munch on later and later 
heated up in the

really getting the hypocrisy in American culture
all that "land of the free - home of the brave", bullshit

but mostly really seeing it for the first time
how white Americans think they're better
and entitled to more than anyone else

my mom had recently passed and I was going through 
a caustic catharsis culminating

introspection, trying to find something - anything
real - meaningful - awake

why am I in this place?

it's dead here

nothing but anger and sadness
pretending to be proud
boner - I mean bonus

free parking on the outskirts of the city
where the colored folk live on the dark periphery
having been pushed out of the inner core years earlier

no street lights here - garbage strewn everywhere
a parasite infested mongrel pissing on a crooked hydro pole
that familiar disturbing look up whilst
echoing off the cracked pavement
a winter wonderland 
turned tropical


colored's not welcomed

ok, the odd Cuban - maybe Mexican (a stretch)
but they look out of place here
nervously trying to fit in
but really not

everyone is really intoxicated
because that is what's on the agenda
pretentious paleface - the narcissism rampant/abundant
football jocks and grimey girls in skimpy slippery sexy
teasing the boys - cause that's what's real now
no apologies, no regrets and all OK - cause

"got my hands up, they're playing my song"

It's a party in the U.S.A.

I'm stunned and numb
looking out and over at the passing parade
guy's holding his beer up and yelling at them
"hey baby - right here - right here"
grabbing his crotch

maybe all this?  is just a bad dream

don't get me wrong
I see the world as a good place
where change can still happen

where we can co-exist painlessly
but it's still important, to actually look
at what's really happening
because millions

onion dipper

so hey dude - fuck-nuts
just who do you think you are 


excuse me sir
I've had a little too much to drink

but I would like to shake your hand
you are an inspiration to me
and I'd like to thank you
for that



staying awake

I will embrace everyone equally
because I and millions like ME
don't subscribe to this narrow point of view

diversity vs division
it's a no brainer
so why?

maybe it's a glitch in the system
a rogue app - I can install Malware
and fix this - ok gimme a sec
  in the meantime?

It's a party in the U.S.A.
let's RAWK

the Britney song is on
YUM - hot - fuk this shit

distract me, make it
all go away

Sunday, 10 September 2017



Spearmint Lake - 1991

In May 1991, I received an OAC/Ontario Arts Council grant to fly out to Spearmint Lake (60 km northeast of Chapleau), a remote lake only accessible by air - to record an album of music celebrating northern Ontario.  Rented van w/gear, driving up alone that early August and flying out, I set up a make-shift studio in the large tent, powered by a generator buried back in the woods and recorded sounds from the lake/woods (exterior) and integrated those sounds into an ambient mix of layered music synthesizers and samplers all inspired by the location.

When I returned to Toronto and began mixing it, I realized that I was 10 minutes short of having a full album, so I wrote 2 more pieces, Gone Forever and Frogs in my home studio in Parkdale that autumn in memory of my time at Spearmint months earlier.  My wife Jody Terio had gathered some early morning frogs on a pond at her Aunt Joyce's out in the country (Uxbridge), through a binaural/ambisonic microphone onto a portable digital audio tape recorder and I integrated them with what I had laid down at home and Frogs was born.  This piece sounds best under a good pair of headphones and in a darkened room.

I recently gathered HD images from the internet that reminded me of Spearmint and assembled this in Final Cut in a few hours.  It was a magical 10 days alone in the wilderness, surrounded by wildlife, the aurora and a black bear which was spooky scary but exhilarating.

More pictures and stories about my time at Spearmint Lake in my blog below entitled 'NOCTURNE'


Thursday, 31 August 2017


reality is just a crutch for people who can't handle drugs

Robin Williams   

we watch with sad eyes
as the seagulls fly above us
and the once wicked waves waver 
then flat-line in quiet introspection

the storm has ended - over
but the clouds still linger lofty
grey sheets passing passively
in a dying day

it's this feeling - a memory
and an impulse that returns


she gave up long ago
believed there was no hope
that no one could save her
that no one cared

but weather can be deceiving
sometimes hard to predict - unfair
because when we can't see very far
there remains no signage
no signals


and we miss that sliver of sunlight
in the shifting tide

U S E R  F R I E N D L Y



Saturday, 19 August 2017


when I can't write
I feel like a block of stone
dreaming alone of nothing

a boat without eyes
for the oars
and no horizon




nothing to lose

music evokes pictures
pictures provoke feelings
one thing leads to another and ...
here we go - always at 5 am
a deaf woman sitting alone
looking out a window

an all American boy filling his face
at a hot dog eating contest 
champion eater - 3 years in a row
51 dogs - 10 minutes

a beggar in the garden
of Gethsemane holding up
an empty cup

staring into the night
no one listening
his last night
on earth

caroling crickets

a mother calling out her son's name
only to realize he's gone
in anguish; "Aadish come" again
no words left behind

no trace

hearing it - now seeing it

years passing
a trailer park just out of town
in Cabot Arkansas

she's been alone for days
big bag of Lays and another beer
at 1pm

ashtray is full and the place is a mess
staring blankly at the TV (fuming)

plus size house-coat
eating and screaming at Springer
because that bitch needs to die
because she's f*cking evil

they're bleeping the sound but we know
what they're saying - filling in the blanks
turn them on each other
it's something my Dad taught me
watching you through my sterile scope
analysing - improvising

curious - cautious

me with money - you not
common and yet ironic
because I can see you
but you can't see me
because I am your


something still not right 
looking over my shoulder

you see - it's supposed to be
the other way around
it's ass backwards


I'm bathing in bubbles
surveilling the dark shadows 24/7
and still there's this haunting feeling in that

you're not afraid
but I am