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Brent Nicholson

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Burlington, Ontario, CA

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O Canada

by

Brent Nicholson

There used to be a heart,
its beat could be felt;
not the adrenaline thump
of over zealous patriotism,
rather the steady generous rythm of knowing;
knowing we cared for others;
knowing the hungry would be fed;
knowing the sick had refuge.
Canada wasn't about language;
it wasn't about income trusts;
it wasn't about polar bears, or seals, or melting ice.
Canada was about kindness, caring, and giving.

There used to be a heart.

Politicians hold out one hand,
and hide the other.
Truth disappears behind mistrusts guise,
and cynicism steals our hope.
We are right they shout,
and some follow.
The fracture grows more jagged,
and the blood of unity spills,
and we despair of forsaken trust.
The heart is gone, it beats no more,
and is replaced by Will.
Our nations' blood flows unabated,
and political Will busy with Agenda
fails to see.


Forgiveness

by

Brent Nicholson

Your wings will grow
nurtured by my prayers.
When you become weary,
I will ask for gentle winds
to carry you.
When darkness threatens,
I will send you light.
When raindrops wash you,
they will be my tears.
When peace finds you,
it will be my heart.
You are my love.
You are my teacher.
I understand.
Goodbye.

Altered Steps

by

Brent Nicholson

Great trouncing steps
complete the journey
in record time,
to an end which seldom satisfies.
The journey is lost
in stiving to gain
a mere perception
of what could be,
or not.

A delicate walk
never arrives.
Percieved destination
soon becomes the journey.
Pathways never seen
by rushing minds
beckon.
Irresistable temptation,
to know,
to feel,
to laugh,
to cry,
replaces lessons taught
by rushing
minds

A Choice

by

Brent Nicholson

Sunshine falls
through shattered clouds
landing on my brow.
I implore the clouds
to close their ranks,
to hold the light for now.
Dreary days, and starless nights
bring comfort through despair.
The bright destroys my reverie
in a life I failed to share.
I know the time is coming
when clouds will have their place
amongst mostly sunny days,-
but for now,
I choose this space.

Deception

by

Brent Nicholson

It's the damndest thing
this thing called love,
it sneaks up from behind,
or above.
Look for it,
you'll never find,
its hiding place
is in your mind.
Turn to walk
there it is,
smiling,
like you're hers, or his.
Altered paths
become the norm.
Change your step,
show good form.
Say the words
it wants to hear,
for now it might just disappear.
Hold on tight,
it's got you now,
yet you think
it's yours somehow.
Happiness
becomes confused.
Separate lives
as one are fused.
Now the joy
thought or felt,
lurks behind
mounting guilt.
Passions distant
memory
flirts with hope,
yet now can see
loves deceit.

For Her

by

Brent Nicholson

I believe you're an angel here on my shoulder
showing me all that is true.

I know you believe you are simply a woman
and you do the things that you do.
Darling you see I prayed for release
from the pain of the path I was on.
That's when I met you and you gathered me in
and helped me to see another dawn.

My world was empty. My choices were gone.
Time was a thing to endure.
My knees touched the floor, and I asked for no more
than to be shown a way out of here.

That's when I met you, and I saw you had wings
and I knew my prayers had been heard.
You helped me stand up and showed me my sins
were my teachers and not to be feared.

So I believe you're an angel here on my shoulders
and you're showing me all that is true,
and maybe I'm an angel here on your shoulders
and we do the things that we do.

Seeing

by

Brent Nicholson

Search through eyes
and I am blind.

Hearts vision accepted
and I can see.

Love becomes my gift
as it has been my gift/

It is all there is.

We Remember

by

Brent Nicholson

Tears borrowed from morning dew
fall on ground where once you walked;
where love a distant memory,
yet held by some lingers.
Trapped in a womb'
unknown, unmet,
they cry at eternities gate.
We remember you.
We remember our signature
embossed your invitation.
Your sword blessed by liberty
surrendered not in defeat.
Sleep now, content that sunshine
will not dry our tears

Untitled

by

Brent Nicholson

Withering rose,
time has special meaning for you.
Beauty, ephemeral beauty,
they desire you, so you die,
held by vase or hand.
No cool breeze for you,
no morning dew.
Petals fall brown edged
to become dusts friend.
Would you choose beauty again?

One More Please

by

Brent Nicholson

Shadows cling where none should be.
Suns long set, no moon to see.
O Horrible Dark without disguise,
unmasked now to show your eyes.
Piercing bright amid the gloom,
they beckon me to certain doom.
O Horrible Dark you frighten me.
Your hand in mine seems destiny.
Terror offers firm resolve
to banish you with thoughts of love.
But Dark your eyes have shown me,
true patience.
When will I be free?

From A Distance

by

Brent Nicholson

You are my child.
Though I cannot dry your tears,
they fall through me.
I cannot hold you always,
yet I feel you, always.
You are of me.
You are proof of love.
Love unaltered by circumstance.
Time cannot undo what was.
Doubt is but a shadow of truth,
and truth is my love for you.
You are my child.

Again and Again

by

Brent Nicholson

Movies in my head,
re-runs in black and white.

I wonder if he's dead now?

Dated images
with power to paralyze.
Time owns the truth.
Oscars all round!
Was I acting?
I thought I was dying.
What a relief.
Stop the film,
I'm tired now.
Stop the fucking film!
I'll kill you you son of a bitch!

I wonder if he's dead now?

Untitled

by

Brent Nicholson

Trust and love amid the wail
lets vision soar when humans fail.
Your hand in mine enter the night,
darkest days soon greet the light.
Fearless faith will find the good
that's lost in lives of will, and should.

An Unsettled Time

by

Brent Nicholson

What is this pain, this agony?
Who wields the knifes' unyielding blade?
Why doesn't the arm grow weary?
Slicing this way and that, this way and that.
Surley my guts are bits of flesh.
Why then do I live? Why do I feel?
Is endurance existences reason?
What cruel irony that death would be conceptions moment.
Would I be the mother and father of agonies progeny?
Would it live in those I love for eternity?
Are you rooting for me God?
Where is your light? Where is my guide?
I need you now. My hand is out but holds only despair.
Is this but a lesson, you cruel teacher?
I want to learn. I want to dry my tears,
but the knife, oh that vicious knife.
I cannot see past this moments anguish.
I am so tired. If I could but sleep perhaps then...
I close my eyes, but the knife does not rest
Take me God, or release me. I can struggle no more.
Where is love? Where is hope?

In A Moment

by

Brent Nicholson

Dancing without rythm,
moving without form,
movies plays, and Saturdays
protect me from the storm.

Living life in shadows,
afraid to face the light,
images of coming days
bring on the welcome night.

Memories of yesterdays,
of hope and joy and fear,
create within confusing thoughts
which once were seen so clear.

Tommorrows dreams fade quickly,
no time to wonder why.
Minutes lost turn into years.
The choice is live,not die.

The End

by

Brent Nicholson

I saw your face in the cold moonlight.
You didn't see me watching.
Beauty, dying beauty, alone
you wept, and I didn't know why.
Now I watch from a distant place
and understand.
My tears were to come.

Blame

by

Brent Nicholson

Trust destroyed, obliterated
so long ago.
Never questioned till now.
Too late to realize
ruined dreams,
too soon to dream anew.
You left me to my lessons.
I learned them well.
Laws of the forest adopted,
do what it takes to survive,
never more.
Animal instinct, human mind,
offer trust but don't mean it.
Get what I want,
screw the consequenses.
Now I'm bereft of others trust.
Thanks.

Alone

by

Brent Nicholson

They look to me for answers
to shed the lingering doubt,
when night and dark sometimes invade,
and fear raises its specter in dreams.
Oh where is morning to spread the light?
Answers somehow seem clearer in the light.
They realize not that I suffer the nightmare state,
without relief of innocence.
Gentle words dissuade, cast out the malevolent image,
and sleep returns.
Where are the gentle words for me?
Where is my sleep?