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Too Be Perfectly Canadian

We are perfectly English
In our cultural Blood
Grooming out our nature
To behave as a Statue
While Pigeons build bathrooms
On our Bronze plated Shoulders

We are French in our faith
Changing mindsets at will
Rebelling when it's noble
Like an activists actor
Selling fashionable discourses
In the new springs doctrines

We are Black sheep 6 nations
The brothers' long forgotten
Locked faraway from view
In the special Childs room
Playing with rags of others dolls
Only noticed when there's a problem

We are the quite Chinese
Forgotten on the rails
And the denied Indians
On the Maru at Burrared Inlet
Sharing a nation of different flavours
Yet homogenous in our tastes cravens

We are wholly Canadian
Second best in the world
Destroying the Kyoto
And multicultural neutered
Into pieces of one bland puzzle
That stands indifferent and weak

T0o be Perfectly Canadian
Is to dine in a falling house

poem by Kevin Patrick
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Family Forgiveness

Forgiven not forgotten that is,
The way it has to be.
For the teen that use to be,
The nine year old girl whom eyes now,
Turn to water falls with the site of the bedroom,
Her daddy not to long ago tucked her in for the night,
And her little brother and her shared their pillow fights.

Forgiven not forgotten that is,
The way it has to be.
For that teenage girl,
Knowing that her sister,
Her own bloods hand constructed all of this,
Makes it even more heart breaking.
Even after all this time has gone by,
That same teenage girl can’t understand,
Why would her own blood destroy,
Her real dads house after he is dead.
The disrespect lay there so apparent,
green and in dirt.

Forgiven not forgotten that is,
The way it has to be.
For destroying all that is left,
For destroying all that you were holding on too.
Once to be a respectable mans,
Nine year old girls play house,
But now is only just a house of pot.

Forgiven not forgotten that is,
The way it has to be,
Because she is my sister, and I have to.
It is in the contract,
And my conscience tells me so.

This will always be,
Forgiven but not forgotten.

poem by Mrs. Cynosure
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Learn Chinese July 11th,2012

LEARN CHINESE July 11th,2012
By
James Bredin

If it was Gaelic they were speaking I might catch a word or two,
But Toronto has turned Chinese and I don't have a clue,
So I think I should learn Mandarin and then we can get along,
I don't know; but is that the language they speak in Hong Kong?




I just looked it up on the Internet and found out to my surprise,
They have more than a hundred languages so I can't improvise,
Has an English-speaking Canadian ever learned Chinese?
Which is easier to learn - Mandarin or Cantonese?




Years ago, I thought of becoming bilingual and learning French,
But Canada is has gone multicultural down a communication trench,
And now I have to find out where they teach easy Chinese,
And maybe eventually, I can pretend I'm Cantonese.

July 11th,2012

poem by James Bredin
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Can't Change Trudeau's Charter Feb 12th 2011

Some politicians in Europe have come to certain conclusions,
About multiculturalism and their other strange illusions,
But Canadian politicians are politically correct,
Such ideas made public might show a certain disrespect.

We are forbidden binding referendums so no talk about this,
We have Trudeau’s Charter of Rights unlike the very smart Swiss,
Because they can compel their politicians to do this or that,
But Canadian politicians never need to go to bat.

Canadian binding referendums could get us all involved,
In case multicultural problems might need to be solved,
But Trudeau’s Charter of Rights cannot be altered or changed,
We watch from a distance because things cannot be rearranged.

Feb 12th,2011

poem by James Bredin
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Forgotten Time

bumming around
the country...
sleeping under bridges,
or just under...

the night sky...
working when i
could find it.

selling blood
when i couldnt!

gather a little change,
stop in a diner
for a cup of
black coffee...

writing poems
on napkins
with pencils...

leaving them for
my tip...

unsigned, forgotten
prayers, a forgotten
man, a forgotten
time!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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To My Friends in the City

seen from space
we're a single dot
so smart
so beautiful
the brightest point
on this gray map
is it any wonder
that we've all found each other?
each of us
surrounded by warmth on all sides
yet fearing we'll be cold forever
because of the warped shapes we're in
silly rabbits
our flaws are the perfectly sculpted edges
of puzzle pieces
which would match perfectly
it's just
they've been slammed together
in random order
by that ham-fisted child called love

poem by Paul Gude
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Fields Of Gold

There are fields of Gold behind the little house
Filled with the greatest of treasures
Bronze, Gold and Silver

Do you remember?
Remember our childhood, Our life’s

The shinning Silver sparkling in the skies
The brightest Bronze hidden under the ground
The greatest Gold glimmering through the fields

Can you see them?
Picture it in your mind

All the times we danced
Every time we laughed
Where we used to love

Or have you forgotten?
Forgotten the good, Forgotten the bad

Every memory
Every moment
Every word

I wish you’d remember
To turn back time, So you could take me

Take me to the gold
To the fields on a summers day
To our fields, our treasure

The Silver, The Bronze
The Gold

But the treasures gone
The house still remains
The fields just as empty as the day we left

Times have changed
Our life’s have changed

Our Silver gone dull
Our Bronze all rusted
Our Gold long forgotten

It was never there
The winds of time and turns of the earth have seen to that

But I remember
I cry for the children who found the greatest of treasures and those who lost it so soon after
And I dream of dancing and singing and running and laughter, of the treasures that lie in the fields of Gold.

poem by Carrie Halliday
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Departed Statesmen

Lines on our departed Canadian Statesmen, with a glance at our two living leaders.

Joseph Howe, none higher stood than thou,
Thou wert a man with lofty brow ;
D'Arcey McGee, so brillant and free,
From Green Isle you came, 'oer the sea.

George Cartier, to the French ever dear,
So high you stood without a peer ;
John Sandfield, * for long you did build
Power under economy's shield.

George Brown, thou man of renown,
Confederation you did crown ;
You now are all free from the strife,
The wrangle and jangle of political life.

But if a glance at this world you take,
You will there see John A. and Blake ;
But Sir John, the greatest power doth wield,
Our Canadian Beaconsfield.

poem by James McIntyre
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We were also fortunate enough to engage in our service a Canadian Frenchmen, who had been with the Chayenne Indians on the Black mountains, and last summer descended thence by the Little Missouri.

quote by Meriwether Lewis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Forgotten Soldier

The forgotten soldier. Hes getting older. Hes getting colder. Scarred for all eternity. Searching for divinity. Prayer yet to be answered. Smoking has just brought cancer. The forgotten soldier. Hes getting older. Hes getting colder. Looking for forgiveness in all the wrong places. So many name and so many faces. An anecdotal pun he has become. A history lesson has been undone. Wars never can be won. The forgotten soldier. Hes getting older. Hes getting colder. In his eyes lies the blood of many. Sleepless nights of sacrifice and murder. And in the end their is no one to comfort him. The forgotten soldier. Hes getting older. Hes getting colder. Times have changed. Now he can only wish he was flying a jet plane. Treated like dirt. Crippled and weak. And the man just turns the other cheek. The forgotten soldier. Hes getting older. Hes getting colder. Today is his birthday and he spends it in a nursing home all alone. To all he is forgotten dead and gone. But i remember, i remember all the forgotten soldiers.

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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I had done Shrek as a Canadian and I'm very proud to be Canadian, but I knew I could give more to it.

quote by Mike Myers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cherry Cola

With you hand out the window,
sipping on Cherry Cola.
Man, I despise you.

Your beating on the dashboard,
flashing off your black tatoo,
Man, i idolize you.

There you are puffing away on your white king ciggarettes,
rolling down your window and spitting at the car beside you.

Im riding in a car,
with a canadian rockstar,

kiddo, do you want one puff?
do you want another sip?

Your 32 and wasted,
and i'm still trying to astound you.

cause I'm riding in a car,
with a canadian rockstar.

Theres cuts and scars on your arms,
in pretty little patterns.

your staring in the review mirrow,
And i'm blushing in your smoke.

It's way past my bed time, & mom thinks im home,

But stuff it man,
Im riding in a car,
with one screwed canadian rockstar.

poem by elena Velinsky
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I think I'm a good Canadian, but I'm not the greatest Canadian.

quote by Donald Stewart Cherry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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8th Grade Graduation

A puzzle together
a puzzle apart
each piece belongs to my heart

each piece is differant
each piece is great
But now they have to take on the long expected fate

They knew it would come
the day was here
the day they dreaded at the beginning of the year

The day they would be pulled apart
the whole would be broken
they knew it from the start

A piece here
and a piece there
how could life be so unfair

The beautiful picture the puzzle protrayed
is now forgotten
the pieces have strayed

They went away
fell beneath the wooden table
the puzzle would never again be stable

But that puzzle is forever in my heart
the memories of each piece
will never fall apart

-For my eighth grade class on graduation-

poem by Summer Song
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Dawns Highway

Indians scattered on dawns highway bleeding
Ghosts crowd the young childs fragile eggshell mind.
Me and my -ah- mother and father - and a
Grandmother and a grandfather - were driving through
The desert, at dawn, and a truck load of indian
Workers had either hit another car, or just - I dont
Know what happened - but there were indians scattered
All over the highway, bleeding to death.
So the car pulls up and stops. that was the first time
I tasted fear. I musta been about four - like a child is
Like a flower, his head is just floating in the
Breeze, man.
The reaction I get now thinking about it, looking
Back - is that the souls of the ghosts of those dead
Indians...maybe one or two of em...were just
Running around freaking out, and just leaped into my
Soul. and theyre still in there.
Indians scattered on dawns highway bleeding
Ghosts crowd the young childs fragile eggshell mind.
Blood in the streets in the town of new haven
Blood stains the roofs and the palm trees of venice
Blood in my love in the terrible summer
Bloody red sun of phantastic l.a.
Blood screams her brain as they chop off her fingers
Blood will be born in the birth if a nation
Blood is the rose of mysterious union
Blood on the rise, its following me.
Indian, indian what did you die for?
Indian says, nothing at all.

song performed by by Doors
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Good Canadian Weather

A glimmer of spring recedes,
as winter rebounds towards furor
Sending off the cheerful malarkey
To be draped with an abstemious simmer
The rooftops bearing with tarmac
Become throttled with frosty garments
With bars made of ice, and walls made of snow
My sights claustrophobic and glacially narrow
And in the blink of an eye you'll hear my voice gripe
Muttering nonsensical adjectives of indolent tripe

But to be perfectly frank, this is good Canadian weather

The prelude of sallow lawns
Is disrupted by the Siberian sawn
Waylaying afterglows for lost summers
For rosy cheeks purchased from arctic dowers
I've traded my Hikers for Mukluks
Annoyed by the downgrade of gear
To shovel hours away, to keep contents at bay
Hunching over my back to find a parchment of clay
That will deliver the spark, to enthusiasms drought
Emancipating my spirits which are the size of a mouse

Though to be absolutely blunt this is good Canadian weather

To savour Februarys warmth
Shun caution towards Marches girth
For the balmy thrills of cupid
Coif unpleasant gifts from the ides
Never celebrate a battle in session
When the odds are constantly threatened
And Mother Nature's deck is blurring
She'll call the house down on top of your jeering
Condemning us to return to hibernation
And the chronicles of repeated complaining

So in absolute fact, to the vault in my heart
All of this muddle, is good Canadian weather

poem by Kevin Patrick
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Let it be Forgotten

Let it be forgotten, as a flower is forgotten,
Forgotten as a fire that once was singing gold.
Let it be forgotten forever and ever,
Time is a kind friend, he will make us old.

If anyone asks, say it was forgotten
Long and long ago,
As a flower, as a fire, as a hushed footfall
In a long-forgotten snow.

poem by Sara Teasdale
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There is a whole school of Canadian academics, media personalities, and politicians whose definition of a Canadian is a North American who fears or dislikes the United States.

quote by Preston Manning
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Haven't Forgotten

I haven't forgotten when I meet you first!
I haven't forgotten when I greet you last!
I haven't forgotten your pretty face!
I haven't forgotten your smile and grace!

I haven't forgotten how we started chatting!
I haven't forgotten when we started dating!
I haven't forgotten our last walk together!
I haven't forgotten how I became a loser!

I haven't forgotten how it became too late!
I haven't forgotten when I understood fate!
I haven't forgotten that summer's northwester!
I haven't forgotten and won't forget ever!

poem by Asif Andalib
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My Forgotten Angel I'm Without You

The eyes bleed form the insides
The head collapses on impact
How am I suppose to react
The sweat pours from my forehead
You were thought to be dead
With so much left unsaid

Forgotten angel
Forgotten angel

I'm so sorry
You lied in a comma
Three years pasted
The doctor said you'd never wake
Oh how the heart breaks

Forgotten angel
Forgotten angel

You've missed so much since you supposedly died
I got married
And it wasn't you
Now I feel so blue
Sad
Twisted
Torn
Ripped into a thousand pieces
Let me choke till my breathing ceases
I got a couple nieces
Baby twins
I wonder if I can ever be forgiven

Forgotten angel
Forgotten angel

Oh the mistake I made
But I now got to be brave
I won't allow myself to be torn in two
A get well card will never due

My forgotten angel
Being so brave
My forgotten angel
Learning to talk again
My forgotten angel
Learning to walk again

I will stay away once your okay
So I don't wonder what could have been
I feel like your next of kin
I will pretend we were never together at all
I will always want to answer that phone call

My forgotten angel
I'm sorry
I can't
I moved on without you
Without you

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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However, if we examine the Canadian scene closely enough, we can see signs of this physical and spiritual rot settling into a number of our Canadian urban centres with a troubling spill-over into many of our more rural areas.

quote by Alex Campbell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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