Archive for January 2012


January 26, 2012

My Canoe- Chestnut circa 1976

My Canoe- Chestnut circa 1976

Some people said worried blues ain’t tough
Some people said the worried blues ain’t tough
But if they don’t kill you they’ll handle you mighty rough

Two years on-

January 18, 2012

big buttter moon

big buttter moon

Thanks kate
what silly vainglorious
words can tell
‘holy god must be the promised land’
well i guess i’ll find out
soon enough
at last heart beat
last breath of sweet world
so lopsided and awry
on an axis of foolishness

but you must understand dahlin’
there’s work to do here yet
so much work
so very little time
each heart beat
tolls finite
and fragile
handle with care
we go on apace or a pace
but we go on

but while here
heart’s needle memry strong
as a wintery gust
your gravity pull
like some human humane sun
that lights but never burns
stronger still

we are only human
sometimes barely that
how you’d bibuloulsy wave down this mawkishness
and you’d be right
there’s a corkscrew i must return to lanning
at the very least
it’s the little things
love campbell

My Red Pen- Inka Dinka Doo

January 15, 2012

My pen has a secret name

My pen has a secret name

In deep cold winter power out
I pulled out my red pen
and wrote vellum letter
by drip wax candlelight
to the one who gave me the pen
out of the blue a red pen
Taverna del ghetto,TRS Friday Feb 18 2011
a gift for no reason,
no quid pro quo
sine qua non
just a gift
the kind I’ve only dreamed of
pure kindness
like the wind at your back

Oh dear friends
this pen fairly write herself
and she writes fairly and concisely
and has taught me not to ask why
and embrace the silence

like so many things
i didn’t appreciate it
at the time
inky dinky
parlons nous
but time
winnows away the dross
appreciation of what really counts
grows slow gentle and daily
until heart beats no more

but when it’s 20 below it’s good to write
by candlelight
and even if the vellum has wax on it
that letter will wend it’s way
through the air
across stormy seas and mountains
and i hope brings a smile
to the 9 lived cat of the long road
who handed me the pen over prosecco
on full moon vento nero bora night

though the postman rings once
and drinks twice
I know he’ll get this one through
This red pen has mojo magic
of resonance
and he will feel it
and deliver said on the pdq
more later indeed !

North- A good Direction

January 14, 2012

The Crusher- Gagnon QC- I worked right here

The Crusher- Gagnon QC- I worked right here

View from My Room 1975

View from My Room 1975

Have you ever walked down a Northern road?
And seen the stars of a Labrador night
On mining town Saturday
No way out , save rail or ski plane
anyway, who would think of leaving
unless bushed (mal du forêt)
or off for tawdry weekend somewhere
in the crazy outside world

Did you ever sit silent smilimg
by roaring raging rapid running
northern river rapids almost waterfall
Turned silent ice by the sweet cold
and filled with childlike sense of joy
and wide eyed
head nod wonder
a burning sky-
green yaller red & colours
beyond any palette
That’s the old rory bory,
northern lights fill your soul
with a sense of wonder
celtic mystery morte d’arthur
and avalon is real here and now
If you’ve ever been down that Labrador road
Your as close to Heaven
as any wanderer can be

Campbell’s Christening- Spring 1953

January 13, 2012

How's This for Patrician ?

How's This for Patrician ?

Click on photo to enlarge

The Bluebells Of Scotland •

Oh where, tell me where is your highland laddie gone?
Oh where, tell me where is your highland laddie gone?
He’s gone with streaming banners where noble deeds are done
And it’s oh! in my heart I wish him safe at home.

Oh where, tell me where did your highland laddie dwell?
Oh where, tell me where did your highland laddie dwell?
He dwelt in bonnie Scotland where bloom the sweet bluebells
And it’s oh! in my heart I rue my laddie well.

Oh what, tell me what if your highland lad be slain?
Oh what, tell me what if your highland lad be slain?
Oh no, true love will be his guide and bring him safe again
For it’s oh! my heart would break if my highland lad were slain.

*sung to me as a lullabye some 55 years ago

One Year To the Minute

January 11, 2012

I signed up for the long haul
there have been stones in the passway
under all flags in all weather
this old lug
shambles on
Gleam in true blue eye
Faith and hope yield to return
and sweet surender

Macushla come home ere Thanatos

January 10, 2012

Come home to your ain Folk

Come home to your ain Folk

To yr family and craggy new england
To the last third
start swimming
I’ll meet you more than halfway
The vines on the cottage are gnarled
but will turn cartwheels when they see you
I’m yr friend yes the one who wrote the letter
but love takes many forms
and smiles and silence trump everything