Dark Corners

Eyes cast down or straight thru

Everything’s there – but for you

It doesn’t exist if you can’t see

So like the rest, you look past me



Dare not speak of that we don’t know

Ignorance reigns wherever you go

Souls lost in the open - waiting to find

Any little peace of mind



Unspoken gazes across the street

Fearful people frightened to meet

Hated and shunned for what was their lot

Serving them right to get what they got



For who would play such tricks on their kind

Does it not matter if they can’t mind?

Torn away deftly without a word

Caste asunder and stripped from the herd



We are they and they are us

Brethren together riding the bus

Nobody speaking - just fight or flight

Taking us somewhere into the night



Goodnight my friends, oddfellows all

Invisible people in line we fall

If you don’t look we might leave you alone

Unless of course it’s the life that you own

Show Weakness

I'm really glad I have some great kids Oh sure, those girls will break my back, bank and heart more than a few times before I shuffle off, but for the present time I'm starting to think they came around at the perfect time.  You see, anytime prior to the age of 40, I was far too immature, manic, dangerous to be a good bet at parenting.  Oh I would have sucked it up and thrown myself into it - but somehow I have the feeling my lack of self awareness and perspective would have imparted some pretty serious social tics in my girls.  Like most folk, I had a lot of issues to work out - but unbenownst to me, I had been dealing with full-blown bi-polarism since about the age of 12.  A lifetime of hard evidence unfolded like a roadmap. Instead of recoiling in shock or burying the truth under drugs and alcohol, I started a long process of finding the right medication to adjust the valproic acid levels in my body.  Something so simple as a chemical alignment - and enough couch time with a person knowlegeable about the condition has transformed someone on the edge of madness in 2008 to someone eager for the next great act to play out in this life of mine. I also learned a great deal about a subject I knew nothing about.  Like most people, the thought of being labeled defective was a far worse fate then suffering the same debilitating effects year after year.  Being crazy - let alone disabled - was a pathetic fate for losers who are doing nothing for the greater good.  I hate to say it, but I wanted very much to believe that anyone could change if they just wanted to badly enough.  As the years progressed, I was subconciously shitting on myself as failed relationships, failed dreams and short-short term employment piled up.

Something remarkable in my life happened a decade ago.  I became a small fish in a pretty big pond by playing, recording, promoting...basically living music.  The people and places of those years saw the birth of the real me - and I started whole-heartedly buying into the role I was ready to play into my own personal sunset. I was finally happy

Which brings me back to Grace and Evie.  They are going to be the ones who benefit most in this whole process. Although the patchwork of fixes that governed my life during some of the happiest times worked when the sun shone, things like 2 unplanned pregnancies - economic hardship, not doing what makes you happy, and at the root - the lack of any real communication cracked the facade and nearly brought my house of cards all the way down.  These girls will get the Kevin that I wish was a long time ago.  All because I wasn't too ashamed to ask for help.

Kids and Dogs

I like watching kids and dogs

they don't really care

how new the shoes

or style of hair

in the moment

all the time

weightless

sublime

k

Me and the Dog

Deeogee.  That's his name.  D-O-G..get it?  If you're under 8 years old, it's a natural, but as we overthink everything in our world, something so simple seems to evade us at times.

The dog was not welcome here.  Having recently lost my first dog Gus after 11 years, I was not in the market when proximity and chance conspired to land me my latest best friend.  It has been funny to see him grow up, like a second child, with a slightly jaundiced eye towards his independant streak.  It has been quite a challenge, but we are now a team and working on the traits of a couple of old buds. 

Sometime in June, he will be 6, or 42 years old in human years.  Close to my age, we are both living the same life in the same house.  Both of us ain't getting any - and are getting fatter by the day.  Getting out for a w-a-l-k in the p-a-r-k is a high point for both of us as well.  I feel for the guy.  Something was bred into him that prepared him for a life that just isn't there anymore.  You see, no matter how much dog whispering I do, he still wants to eat, screw, play, crap and fight.  In that order.  Buried inside that thick skull, he is a genius at getting those things.  Period.  The problem is, I can't let him run free, chase squirrels, hump a bitch or "get the stick" around here anymore.  Society has neutered him, turned him into a pooping machine.

Like I said, same life.

Misery loves Company

There is nothing like shared agony to bring people together. Be it a nation creaking under the weight of ever increasing social and financial strains, or the ability of a funeral audience to see clearly into their own future, pain allows people to share a common burden, and share the load. Soldiers who fight for their very lives in the most awful conditions forge relationships with their mates that last a lifetime. Support groups formed to assist individuals and families through disease and affliction find kindred souls to help them make sense of such very dark times. For as long as humanity has walked this earth, the misery created by adversity can rarely if ever be dealt with alone – the need to survive and recover strives to overcome adversity.




There are however, herds of elephants in the room, none more seemingly obvious than the scourge of mental illness and the profound effects it has on our society. While prejudice and ignorance has been routed from most dark corners in the past generation, the attitudes and resources fixed to make a difference are only now being slowly herded. An estimated 50 billion dollars in lost productivity, an epidemic in suicides and addiction, and a system that is unable to handle the fall out from years of neglect, are some of the indicators of just how pervasive the problem is. Children are medicated, adults are cracking under the ever-increasing stress, and society does….nothing.



A diabetic needs insulin. Most people would easily understand the clear medical solution, and few would deny them the treatment they need. Someone with a mental illness however, is still perceived as defective, dangerous, to be shunned. It makes us uncomfortable to be confronted by someone who could very well be us. It is much easier to simply turn away, either ignoring the obvious or putting the “blame” on the individual – lazy, crazy, wrong. Like all afflictions, not all are the same, either the severity or the prospects of recovery. Despite changes to the Mental Health Act, there remains a societal unwillingness to face the problem, while access to treatment, proper diagnosis and support all conspire to prevent changes that are so very necessary. Make no mistake, profound changes must be made for the sake of us all.



Step one –and the most important one, is to work very hard to change the negative attitudes that surround mental illness. Stop sugar coating our own sensibilities in order to make the reality go down easier. Realize that until the stigma and ignorance that exists is washed away, we will only allow this rot to continue to undermine the foundations of the house we all share. No matter what we do, mental illness will be with us – as it has been – forever. What we can do is make sure that those who are affected know that they are not alone.

Moonlight over Burlington Bay/Western end of Lake Ontario

Yours Forever

I wrote his poem in 13 minutes after watching a 1975 production summing up a 26 part documentary on the 2nd world war.  The letter was penned in 1943 by a young RAF pilot to his wife days before he was killed.  The letter was 2 pages long, still in it's original form - the reader's hands slightly shaking with emotion as he narrated the 3 miniute tome. 

Struck down by the sheer lack of guile and unbridled love for the sweetheart of his life, I was deeply touched this day by the feeling - sent with such intimacy - and the ability of those emotions to travel such time and distance to me -now.

Keep in mind this letter was the last thing said at the end of 15 hour production on the most brutal time in the history of humankind.

I give you

Yours Forever


Yours Forever


How it must feel - never to be loved
Nay a mothers touch or a lover for the ages - or a time

Sweet waves crashing, a late spring breeze
Beyond description
Yet we write
And sing
And cry...for love

The tides and the winds
Do as they have done 
Building - eroding
Pushing - pulling
Us ...from love

Yet we know it - we seek it
Nothing else has it

We should be
Could be
Are
Loved