the hole

the hole by anelephantcant

Click here to hear the poet read his words:

the hole

there is a hole in my life where you used to live
under blue skies and blissful sunshine
with beaches and forests and long summer strolls
now the hole is as deep as a mine

there is a hole in my heart where you used to love
with a gentleness so sweet and warm
where you kissed my lips and created my smile
now the hole is black as a storm

there is a hole in my dreams where you used to dance
where the music was happy and bright
with guitars and violins and cool saxophones
now the hole is as dark as the night

there is a hole in my soul where you used to be
where you soothed me and tended me well
a perfectly heavenly tranquility
now the hole has the bleakness of hell

there is a hole in me

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seven heartaches

clouds on windless high by anelephantcant

Click here to hear the poet read his words:

seven heartaches

I watch silver stars shine in the sky
golden sun rise every morning
I wonder if I’ll ever forget her face
with every new day I see dawning

I hear the sounds of happiness
laughter carried on the breeze
dogs bark with joy at every sound
birds sing in hedgerows and in trees

I don’t understand how this can be
life goes on as intended
has Mother Nature missed the point
does she not know the world has ended

in one more week I head on home
seven dusks and seven daybreaks
one more week to think about the past
seven nights and seven heartaches

I taste her in my morning coffee
see her beauty flowering in the park
to the music of my broken heart
her shadow dances in the dark

and now I’m in another country
there is sunshine far less rain
time drifts on like clouds on windless high
I hope in vain for far less pain

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cultural differences

edinburgh castle by anelephantcant

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cultural differences

I remember when I met you
on a night of bitter cold
your promises of sunshine
to warm me as I grow old

you told me I was different
my attitude my voice
I believed your every word
thought you had made your choice

now your smile is disappearing
eyes growing ever stonier
a difference of culture
all hail Caledonia

before you leave my angel
one thing I need to know
is it true what made you love me
is the reason you must go

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the river that flows

the river that flows by anelephantcant

Click here to hear the poet read his words:

the river that flows

the puddle on the floor is growing larger
the dog moves uncomfortably away
the ladies who dine
still sip at their wine
pretending they have something to say

the alarm on the wall sirens loudly
the poet is roused from his dreams
his brother is there
leaning back in his chair
nothing is quite what it seems

the fire trucks arrive in their hundreds
the firemen are not too amused
they pant fire fire
their voices filled with desire
but their equipment lies once more unused

he sits in the car quite unmoving
he contemplates life feeling pain
he stares at the river
that flows on forever
and prays to no god for some rain

she says that the bed looks seductive
as she slips once more out of her gown
he lies there in fear
as she cuddles near
he wonders just what will go down

and when the inevitable tsunami
washes over his cares in a tide
he knows in his heart
that this is the start
that Canute had always denied

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Happy Birthday, Rabbie

AnElephantCant write poetry like Rabbie
But then of course nobody can
It is almost a crime
To pen this silly rhyme
As a tribute to an exceptional man

Sound Bite Fiction

Robert Burns by Phil Burns

Robert Burns (1759 – 1796)

January 25th is the birthday of Scotland’s National Bard, the much-loved Robert Burns.
So today I would like to pay tribute with some words from Oor Rabbie, who believed that all men were created equal:

Then let us pray that come it may,
(As come it will for a’ that,)
That Sense and Worth, o’er a’ the earth,
Shall bear the gree*, an’ a’ that.
For a’ that, an’ a’ that,
It’s coming yet for a’ that,
That Man to Man, the world o’er,
Shall brothers be for a’ that.

*bear the gree = come to the fore

But he was also a romantic:

Ye banks and braes o’ bonnie Doon
How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair?
How can ye chaunt, ye little birds,
And I sae weary, fu’ o’ care.
Ye’ll break my heart, ye warbling…

View original post 57 more words

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imagine

imagine by anelephantcant

Click here to hear the poet read his words:

imagine

the view from the aeroplane window
shows men naked and chained on the floor
they are covered in grime
as the plane banks and climbs
we are not allowed to view any more

the azure seas the golden sands
are fading far below
in our mind’s eye we see the place
we know each one must go

but we sit by indifferent
while the killing still goes on
is not each of these tortured souls
a grieving mother’s son

beside you they’re chatting laughing
gulping canapés with wine
you gaze back through the misting glass
see the sky is softly crying

the island grows yet smaller
but the memories remain
you despise yourself for being one
with the scum inside the plane

our country is still our country
but is it always right
to do the things that must be done
is it still a rightful fight

imagine there’s no country
the poet wisely said
imagine one step further
imagine there’s no dead

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leaving Vancouver blues

vancouver bc by anelephantcant

I wrote this poem five years ago today, as I was leaving Vancouver BC after a very brief visit. It is still one of my favourite pieces of my own work.
Click here to hear me read it.

leaving Vancouver blues

he sits silent on the greyhound
as it slowly moves downtown
the past is close behind him
treading on his shoes
his mind is filled with emptiness
leaving vancouver blues

he sits pensive on the greyhound
as it travels south at speed
the past is left behind him
dirt falling from his shoes
his soul crowded with loneliness
leaving vancouver blues

some places leave a mark on you
some people do that too
some places you have never been
some you want to go back to
some people you have never seen
some people that you miss
some people you might think about
your mind will not dismiss

a fleeting thought an untouched hand
no words no might have been
the past is far behind him
like laces from his shoes
his heart is choked with nothingness
leaving vancouver blues

vancouver bc by anelephantcant

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