Open Mic Poetry

Poetic Works
All work should be considered as copyrighted material.
Please participate in open mic!

All Open Mic Participants: We need YOUR help in launching the World in Bloom Project! Please go to the World in Bloom web site and CREATE A PROJECT that makes a difference. Thanks in advance!

Yeah. I noticed that in the mid 90's so anyway
you got to check out Inna banana the hottest bartender ever on the tipsy bartender all the other bartenders are a waste of time in compare now that's an exchange


I don't come from these parts

I understand you well enough,

but your ways are foreign to me

I would beg your patience

no one in this world is

patient anymore

I'd have you attend to my words,

but some might, for you,

lack meaning -

I am a human like you

differences loom large

I love, I cry, I get angry, I get tired

I get hungry

look at the similarities

get beyond the differences

maybe I have something to


maybe that which is enigmatic

will become understood

let us exchange words....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, Dec., 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada - I'm hopping mad this morning, but I'll spare you. All the best, people....)
Greg Cameron

how is it froze en /?

Billie Piper's fool is me


whose fool might you be?

the march of time proceeds right over your hands

they can't figure out who to crucify

they'll empty their torture chambers

long after anyone ceases to care

all the news is bad

welcome to the Race to the Bottom

last one in is a rotten egg

rotten eggs boil as well as fresh

Time shows you the back of its hand

it does no good to cower

take it on the cheek

take it on the chin

pull yourself together


move on

no protests here - we've got tear gas

no feelings here - we're all cynics now

you better look to your bank account

before you look to the Lord

banks aren't what they used to be

the meter is running

do you know what you're costing us?

we want payment in full - now

and have a nice day

we'd throw your things into the street

the piano last

we'd tow away your car

take away your wife, your children

there's a pit just over there

it could hold a lot of bodies

no need to hold your nose

when you're dead

but hold on now

we've got plans for you

you won't like the plans

but that's neither here nor there

just look into the camera

and smile -

that's how history is

going to

remember you....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, December, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada - and Merry Christmas, folks!)

Greg Cameron

Happy Holiday vagina


the day stretches away out of reach

mountains of trees fold

upon each other -

brothers bound in prayer

houses near the pit

in neat little plots,

one yellow-and-white

on a hill a dog once howled

a boy howls

he isn't fooling anyone

someone once left broken glass

all the way up the driveway

down the road, past an


a blinking red light

a cougar screams

a little later, a mother lifts a phone,

inquires anxiously about a son,

but on the TV the hockey game

is already started

a friendly tiger

fills the screen

things are going to be

just great....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, December, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada)

Greg Cameron

Deal Breaker
macaroni ROKU & dr.pepper
lunch box toothbrush
coffee coffee coffee $40 ThermosŪ
ugly & old
warted nose
broken english
if you were the girl I sent the come get it bae vid to
if only it were true if you were she
but all I have are blues
other than her I doubt I like


stretch your arms and greet the day

the sky spreads for Infinity

let's kick the sun around

using the four corners of Earth

as goal posts

Time works its unpleasant magic

flows forwards, backwards,


people, trees, mountains


things flash by

in mockery

birds spread their wings

and take off

they want nothing to do

with you

but the voices twist

in a tornado of sound

your words come back on you

the words of others

official words



none of it

really you

you smash the barb wire fences down

dragging the wire after you

in trails of blood

you drive your fist into rock

splitting your knuckles

you scream

but nothing comes out

everything is misunderstood

they all sneer

and on with everything

things flitting


you make a stand

let things whirl

what has it to do

with you?

and what you are?

cows died in this river

in bloated agony

untold fluid shit

henhouses with

chickens atop,

wings spread in terror

barns full of hay


balloons with candles


water caresses the stones

an old Sherman tank

a motel nestled in mountains

stores full of junk

no one buys


the symmetry of land

laid out in lots

your brain has no symmetry

spiders weave webs

slugs leave trails

children leave home

there is no happiness here

run away

have abortions

do drugs

drink because

what is there else to do?

dance because

there is only the dance

dance till you drop

but be warned

when you drop

you'll never rise again

only one couple left standing

and they get the prize

cows panic

run out onto the road

dogs bark

but it only makes matters worse

roads insinuate

headlights illuminate

a cat looks from the porch

but just can't be


you look into the old pit

remember how monsters used to

puke smoke into the sky

they're gone now

more houses than there

used to be

I'm dancing atop the bridge

but I'm not gonna

jump off

look at me

look at me

the river runs on

it has no choice

and neither do you

turn and walk away

don't even look behind

because there's

nothing left....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, December, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada - an improvisation. I'm tired, sick, and I just can't be bothered writing this down. Enjoy it. As the title says, it's a one-off....)

Greg Cameron

Another World

push your way through the

long grass

peer over the

peeled white fence

the mountains crowd around

to see what you're

up to

clouds top themselves

as if on a pudding

cars push the rain aside

a sign tells people to

turn off,

but they never do

no one is in the motel

the swimming pool is covered

the world seems

greener than ever

but the grey rock face

stands forever

a sinister frown cast

upon the darkness

of the human comedy

cows mill about

crows brave the elements

and Time has nothing to say

about an empty building

where once people danced

cars parked in no sort of order

couples flirted and made out

in the parking lot

and lights stood on poles

as if beacons

to another


(Greg Cameron, Poem, December, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada - a bookcase collapsed downstairs. I have a brother who disdains books. Perhaps I entertain other ideas. All the best....)
Greg Cameron

My wish is that yours comes true
I find myself lost in you

Grab the light
scorch the fear

End of the era
the bright hot fire
grows nea r


armed with a modest battery

of learning,

a little bluff,

an unpleasant sense

of humour,

a high sense of self,

and a low sense of others

he sets forth upon the world

hoping to cruise both storm and calm

he doesn't get

where he wants to go

- that doesn't rattle him,

not exactly -

but when a bony hand

knocks upon the door

maybe he's just a little

at a loss....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, Surrey, B.C., Canada - been coughing all night....)
Greg Cameron

You don't want me because you like me.
you like me because I like you.

You don't sound so crazy today
the world doesn't have a clue
what a mistake you would be
with your sickness spreading like disease
once you had it on it's knees
today to god you cry
prayer chain let us all believe the lies
fuck the fuck off and die
Travis Cole

I stare at your image
that the shadow of your face
is burned in my retinas

What I would give
to crack open a world
of savory limitless possible impossibilities

To hold them tight
stoke the fire
feel you
and recoil into
a deep blue bliss

What mischief is afoot
for me to surrender but at once discover
how much is showing
underneath the pressure of your fingers I'm glowing

Backlit and beautiful
constant and climbing
ascending by microtone

The lights go out

I want you to want me so bad
you don't want everything

So you'll have nothing
And I'll be in the negative
Why must I want you and need you so

I want to cry about it but I gave the old lady all my napkins

God please shine your light upon me
show me that this life is not for suffering

Not Coming Back

the rats have run away

the clouds turn their backs

the sun keeps its distance

will you be there in the morning?

will you be there in the evening?

the cat laps its milk

a robin alights the mailbox

are you a cow looking through

a barb wire fence

at something you can never eat?

ants crawl through the stonework

slugs leave their slime

let's live with the beasts in the field

let's eat potato bugs

beneath the boards

let's pull snails from their shells

and swalllow

stinging nettles by the shed

dogs down the road barking

a school used to stand over there

you can see where it used to be

all the cars used to park in this driveway

let's shake hands with the cedar trees

let's match palms with maples

let's hop into the car,

go down to the grocery store

it's right by the pool hall

let's see if they still

sell the same old things

maybe we'll never

come back....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, 2015, November, Surrey, B.C., Canada)
Greg Cameron

I don't know what
or how I
went wrong

But now theres a huge hole in my heart where you used to be

And I dont know how to fix it

Blood Moon

she saw my blood upon

the moon

she rose into the sky


licked it off

she became red,

so beautifully red

radiant in the darkness


she shot off

and became a star

- there she glows

and will continue to do so

till Time itself

goes out....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, November, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada - and you have no idea how much trouble I had today actually getting to a library today. Oh, brother....)
Greg Cameron

I'm Coming At Ya

I'm coming at ya

there's nothing you can do

don't you see all my people

their eyes glowing in the dark,

waiting for you,

waiting for you to fail,

waiting for you to fall?

I'm coming at ya

the earth trembles

and you will too

you should be scared

feel the dampness of

your own sweat

feel the thump of

your own heart

you turn to run,

but you can't move

I'm coming at ya

suddenly everything's too far

you feel claws, teeth

sink, rip, gouge, bite, tear

snap, crush

- and then it all starts again

you run and run and run and run

I'm right there behind you

feel my breath

get armies, police

pull cars, asphault, buildings

in front

duck into alleys

hide under bridges

dig under ground

plunge into the river

run to the light

cower in darkness

it all means nothing

because it's all over now

first they laughed

then they turned away

you're left with only me

cry and look up


my eyes....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, November,Surrey,
B.C., Canada)
Greg Cameron

Not wanting the wanter
pushing all the way through
even if it hurts
even if it bleeds

decis ions
the lesson's taking too long
to rear it's head
to appear in woodwork

synapses of my brain
barely connecting
yet so reletntlessly wanting

Everything, all the time, all at once

The life of an extremist
too hot and too cold

Every time

Death Licks Its Lips

Death licks its lips and purrs

looking you over with

grey-green eyes

Death likes what it sees

ponders the imponderable

erases tomorrow

draws a chalk brush over yesterday,

leaving a cloudy green blank

you turn to run

but where would you run?

Dinner is served

and you're the Main Course

don't worry - it's not as bad as all that

say Open Wide to Death

tell a joke, take a picture

Death has a sense of humour

don't you see? - its lips pull back

look at those teeth!

that's a smile

don't you know?

(Greg Cameron, Poem, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada - as I said before, I've been subject to a serial Internet vandal, trashing my e-mail accounts. From now on I'm not posting my e-mail account. I hope by now you know who I am anyway. Or perhaps not. I don't know....)
Greg Cameron

He's standin' next to a mountain, but I want to piss in his guitar case.

ok red whateve
why do I got it bad for her I think love

Droolin' Kerri droolin on the keyboard

Her soy shake might bring all the hipsters to the yard but I wanted the 8 cows an 8 cow wife is a keeper these days
I would gladly give 10 cows for her love if I had a cow
all I have in my heart is cow manure compost where I keep my cuttings and if she had no cows my heart would not care and if she had no cattle but still had the yellow hair
my heart knows she's not bland shes like an explosion in my mind red white and blue woooo make her my valentine all the time

I have you completely
but yet I want more

Paint your body with my saliva

Peach, red, tan, white...
I don't really have a life


You taste like life

To paint yourbody with my saliva

She has called me here so here I am
There is still someone who can make me give a damn
the same one after all this time
who I have dreamed to be mine


My ailment and my antidote

Even in themiddle of a fucking home improvement store
Somebody save me

I don't want to think about you

E very


But I do

I can't give in
and I can't give up

Im so doomed and so damned

I don't know how this has gotten such a
strong hold over me
but I want it DONE

I don't want to want

But when I do
I want it with you

Please God take it away

Quite The Puzzle

she posed in front of the mirror

to study her reflection

toss her hair this way

and that

tilt her chin

just so

run a finger

along her fine skin

but the moment she smiled

she turned to stone

it was really quite the puzzle

but in the end

they decided to

leave her there

because, after all,

she was still


(Greg Cameron, Poem, Oct., 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada - oh, and I have a new e-mail address. I will refrain from comment here....)
Greg Cameron

Until then
I make a vow unto myself

To incessantly think upon you
Day in and day out

Your amazing face
the glory of your hands
the things they do
The things about you I could admire for hours

If this is obsession I don't ever want to be free

You would never know
You will never know

Lessons learned


Only time will tell. ..
I miss you endlessly
I want you so very lodged deep inside
all of these milliseconds
To release

We shall see
about you and me

Only time will tell. ..
I miss you endlessly
I want you so very lodged deep inside
all of these milliseconds
To release

We shall see
about you and me

That level of
and comfort

Are things I will never again see
I miss those days
some of the best in my life

And you were at the center of it all


you see me face-down

in the water

pads of vegetation

encircle me

strands of this and that

bend with the flow

a tree trunk overhangs

the water

vegetation by the banks

is reflected by the stills

you clamber down

give me a kick

a little prod

you look me over the longest time

but you never turn me over,

afraid of what you might


(Greg Cameron, Poem, Oct., 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada - I had a dreadful time getting here today, thanks to the Surrey Public Library Computer system. Sheesh. Incidentally, this was an improvisation....)
Greg Cameron

The only thing that helps

Is the savoring of your memory

At will

I cant make you promise you'll love me

I cant make you love me

I cant make you love

I cant make you

I cant make

I cant

Obsession hurts the obsessor
more than a million daggers
flying out of your mouth
you'll never ever know

Because you dont deserve it

So where's the fun?

I learned alot today
so much from the lack of love and life in your words

Are you really this cruel
or are you just pretending

What are you hiding and why

Your intentions are clear as mud
your heart frozen and loud as day

I don't want to believe it but I do

That's all that's left

I cant make you promise you'll love me

I cant make you love me

I cant make you love

I cant make you

I cant make

I cant

Obsession hurts the obsessor
more than a million daggers
flying out of your mouth
you'll never ever know

Because you dont deserve it

So where's the fun?

I learned alot today
so much from the lack of love and life in your words

Are you really this cruel
or are you just pretending

What are you hiding and why

Your intentions are clear as mud
your heart frozen and loud as day

I don't want to believe it but I do

That's all that's left


scarecrow looms with straw menace

hat tilted rakishly a little back

unseeing button eyes

arms offering minatory embrace

bits sticking out

here and there

it smiles most ambiguously

presiding over the resurrection

in the field before it

time passes ever so slowly

each minute reluctantly

shaking hands with the other

but come the resurrection will

inch by inch

a reaching forth

till at last all are free

- good God Almighty! -

but even as they stretch

for the light

they sway uncertainly

before the Shadow

of its cross....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, Sept., 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada - not much sleep last night, folks..... )
Greg Cameron


you think I'm dead,

but I'm pretending

and just when your face is

full of tears

I'll jump up,

grab you in a great big hug,

give you a smacker of a kiss,

laugh maniacally,

then bounce around like a cartoon

while everyone stands about

mouths agape,

astounded at my


(Greg Cameron, Poem, Sept., 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada - not feeling well, but haven't been for some time/all the best, people ....)
Greg Cameron


barb wire bounds your mind

the sun rests high,

but it's all in black and white

ferns caress posts,

reach between,

then decline in failure

circles about the trees

no sign of eternity

the barbeque heats nothing

a wheel-less car falls apart

rock walls seem to hold up

the earth

flowers, swing set, slide

a plastic pool

3-quarters full

slugs leave their slime

crows mock then

die away with a rattle

the house across the road

is empty

and will remain that way

you run around pretending you're

a soldier

then rest on the patio,

feet dangling down,

playing with wet pebbles

around the tap

you grab a plastic superhero

and as you do so,

a driver slows, honks his horn

you have no idea who he is

as he drives away....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, Sept., 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada)
Greg Cameron


she put the really old book

back on the shelf,

pushed past the swinging doors,

walked down the stairs,

left the library,

down the steps,

and never looked back

not once....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, September, Surrey, B.C., Canada - another morning from Hell...oh well....)
Greg Cameron

With All Due Respect to Stephen Harper

if 'normal channels' can

deal with the problem,


to date

have they not

done so?

(Greg Cameron, Poem, August, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada - yup, a political poem - hey, if the great Canadian poet F.R. Scott can do it, so can it. So there)
Greg Cameron

I Dreamt

I dreamt I was

dressed only in my underwear,

wandering through a minefield

and if I were to stumble

across one at long last

and it went off

- bang! -

a large unseen audience

would laugh....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, August, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada)
Greg Cameron

Off They Go

big leaves wave goodbye

birds squawk their joy

dead people face-down

in the mud

a soldier throws his gun

over his shoulder

looks at his hands -

bloodied from pre-execution fun

he tries to rub out the red

on his shirt,

but it won't come out

he shrugs,

a fellow soldier throws an arm

around him,

and off they go

to enjoy a few beers

and some laughs....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, August, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada)

Greg Cameron


you're sorry,

but sorry isn't good enough

and the grave yawns

its boredom

at the prospect of

having to swallow

such as


(Greg Cameron, Poem, August, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada)
Greg Cameron

No Return

swim in the sounds of night,

reach for the moon,

pull it down,

bounce it a few times,

then kick it

run along the beach

past the mountain

covered with trees,

stop, plunge into the water,

head out

way way out

past the point of no return

and maybe in a car

driving down the incline

someone will look out the window,

point, and say,

"isn't that someone out there?"

(Greg Cameron, Poem, Surrey, B.C., Canada)
Greg Cameron

Greg pull my finger



you sniff the flower

and the Universe unfolds

the sky turns a deep purple

the Moon farts to the

disgust of neighbouring stars

the lights in the houses

of all the neighbours

go out

fish walk out of the river

on legs

birds, sensing the gig is up,

seek refuse at

the Mountain

an ant at your feet

offers to sing

the Complete Works of Otis Redding

and the cat's out of here

probably never to


(Greg Cameron, Poem, Surrey, B.C., Canada - I'm all wet today, people...and that's no metaphor!)
Greg Cameron

Not Right

she leans this way and that

feeling somehow she has missed something

she looks at a dog across the street

who looks back

she looks at various people on their way

not one of whom gives her a glance

she looks behind

to board games on the blue carpet

tussling with her brothers

giggling in the sunlight cast by the window

driving to recital with Father

who never said anthing

she remembers things easy, so easy,

too easy

she remembers the reflection of a pool

on plastic, the smell...

but nothing registers

and she walks on feeling

something isn't


(Greg Cameron, Poem, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada)
Greg Cameron

All the names you have for the same dribble nonsensical illogical illness you spew onto society via this poor excuse of a virus infected page second only to the failed Obamacare official website.
An alias for each mood a name for every pill you take
a display of distorted thinking patterns
You can't even take the time to end a sentence or two here & there with a sound that corresponds to another as you suggest we call it poet ry.
............................... ........................:

The Chambers

in the judge's chambers

the bald-headed judge and

the lawyer meet

they smile at each other

the lawyer walks up to the judge,

grabs the judge's head,

and screws it around and around

until it comes off

"my word," says the judge's head,

nestled comfortably in the arms

of the lawyer, "this is the first

time I've had the pleasure of

being unscrewed by you."

"it is, as it were,

an unalloyed pleasure," says

the lawyer

and the headless body of the judge

looms over them,

shrugging as if


(Greg Cameron, poem, August is it?, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada )
Greg Cameron

My work here is done

Onto the next one

It takes an angel to know o ne

Middle of the Night

you wake up in the middle of the night

by the light

falling through the curtains

you see me

on your pillow

about to bite

tiredly you squish me

with the nearest hand -

a red stain on your pillow -

then with a grumble

go back to sleep....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, July, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada - and boy, is it hot!)
Greg Cameron


the dying of night pulls you deep into nothingness

you're swept past the waterfall

past the blank rock face

up the bluish-green mountains

always the mystery of the mountains

the moon emerging above them

casting its light on a land divided by

barb wire, wooden posts

land furrowed into long strips

multitudes of corn waving to cars

on the freeway

cows looking over fences

always finding the grass greener

once they took the class to see

chickens laying eggs

a woman with gloves held up an egg

of almost perfect symmetry

you thought of fried eggs and omelets

amongst the birdshit and hay

the whole thing like an assembly line

another time they took you to a commercial farm

lines of cows looking at you with plaintive eyes

they live to give flow

always the flow

you stepped in cowshit

but the vaporizers, the nights

you found hard to breathe

the apple tree

the shell of an old car

a barbeque where you could choke

on your own smoke

going across the bridge to swim

odd drooping trees near stores

a Sherman tank - years later you would

argue pleasantly with a taxi driver

over which tank was better - the Sherman or

the T-34 - the taxi driver always defended

the former - nice guy but out to lunch -

you fought war in comics

under tall trees

tossed grenades into creeks

you once went out to Halloween

dressed as a wartime Canadian comic hero

who the hell did that?

you wondered about old times

flipped through old magazines

lunch boxes had splashy colours

the Partridge Family, Monty Python, the Irish Rovers

fat cars squealing in Quinn Martin productions

sock it to me!

and you moved away

to heat, sagebrush, tumbleweed

the cat went to hell

impregnating all the cats in the subdivision

Chinatown burnt down,

casting a long dark finger into the night

you went further on up the river

Hell is wherever you are

nights by the radio

catching faraway Yank stations

municipal arguments in distant places

call-in shows - yes, you're on....

and the local stations

someone has a song dedicated

to a Native Canadian girl who

once propositioned you

you would regret, not for the last time,

being shy

across the river

a yellow junior high at the bottom of the hill


the hills by the highway

watch the marmots sun on the cement

again, move

walking, walking

beneath the bridge

empty oil cans, stubs of cigarettes,

loose pages of an abandoned porno magazine

the river looking so oily

you'd swear it'd catch fire

if you cast a match on it

walking, thinking up pages of an absurd novel

you were writing - a cartoon in words

and thinking up and humming songs

that'd get you laughed off the stage

were you an actual musician

again move

you tried running

running up the hill past the shopping centre,

the hospital

chafed the sides of your legs

you never really liked it

so once again, walking, walking

the Accident - blackness


you start university

you walk around the neighbourhood

in the middle of the night

all the lights on, cars in driveways

televisions beaming in living room windows

the rows of lights on Hastings

dangerous, but you never thought of it

years, walking, walking

worried, always looking behind

tormented, always feeling as if

you could jump from your skin

walking downtown during the Trial

you'd later interview street people

on these same streets

sometimes you cut through an alley

nothing happened

many years later

walking, walking

looking for something, someone

never finding

one hot day at the supermarket

drinking a pop you encounter

a neighbour who has a crush on you

but you never felt strongly about her

she offers you a ride

you accept, you tell her of where

you've been walking

and she says, "you sure do a lot of

walking, don't you?"

yup - but darkness sweeps you up

you're flying

frightened but free

you know there's one place left to go

you'll get there

one way or

the other....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, July, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada)

Greg Cameron


this is a

photograph of me -

pretty lousy,

isn't it?

(Greg Cameron, Poem, July, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada - as the show Laugh-In used to say, do we have time for a quickie? C-Ya.....)
Greg Cameron

Just So

in a tired moment

she perhaps remembers

the small round tables

the wooden chairs

the poetry books on shelves

classical records

flowers in pots

hanging from the ceiling

framed movie posters


long skirts

talk, endless talk

out the window

past nearly transparent white curtains

the small grocery store

across the way

- and maybe her lips pull back

in a little smile

and the late afternoon sun

reflects off her glasses

just so....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, July, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada)
Greg Cameron


legs apart,

hands on belly,

head tilted back

and slightly off to

one side

as if about to


looking about with

beaming eye,

he sneers at

e verything....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, July, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada)
Greg Cameron

So lounley so quiet is the night
So crowded so loud is my mind

Guess it will never end
Do I want you back?
Or is just my defeat emotion
I have to admit

Move on ,get new
Grab a new wave
So what you lost one big wave.
Catch another or get out

Crazy mind crazy you
Crazy me crazy Us.

Roller coaster of emotion
Spitting mind games.


I died trying to save

The life you lost

I sift your eyes, for the smallest grain,
and wade your mind and path your veins,
momentum, collar slipping for second short.



you pour grain on the rock

and when you come out later

all the birds wing off

as if caught

doing something they


(Greg Cameron, Poem, July, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada)
Greg Cameron

I want two, three, more...

Betwixt the paradox
all or nothing
all and nothing

Shooting blanks
cold guns

The choice between love and lust
its here, right now, tonight

All that's boiled down, the culmination

pinnacle pinnacle
pinnacle pinnacle pinnacle
pinnacle pinnacle pinnacle pinnacle
pinnacle pinnacle pinnacle
pinnacle pinnacle

The limbal ring of your love
up against fervent assion

Dont know which way is up

I press up against both

Dichotomy of desire

I drown

I want two, three, more...

Betwixt the paradox
all or nothing
all and nothing

Shooting blanks
cold guns

The choice between love and lust
its here, right now, tonight

All that's boiled down, the culmination

pinnacle pinnacle
pinnacle pinnacle pinnacle
pinnacle pinnacle pinnacle pinnacle
pinnacle pinnacle pinnacle
pinnacle pinnacle

The limbal ring of your love
up against fervent assion

Dont know which way is up

I press up against both

Dichotomy of desire

I drown

Don't Play With Guns

don't play with guns, my child

you'll sit on a cold floor,

pick up a revolver,

give it a spin,

pull the trigger

and as nothingness emerges

from something so

narrow, you'll find

your open-mouthed surprise

stops nothing.....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, July, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada - infernally sluggish keyboard today, sigh....(
Greg Cameron

For All That

three bikes - one dark red - spin to a stop

overlooking a pit

boys chatter, point

the ground trembles

ready to disgorge some secret

the machinery lumbers, roars,

hurls and heaves into action

trees all around droop

in worship

mounds of sand

shed rivulets

a yellow house keeps mute witness

a dog down the road barks

as you know it must

and smoke billows into a sky

that is blue

for all that....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, July, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada)
Greg Cameron


I'm adrift in a sea of possibilities

it doesn't seem

anyone's going to be stopping

I'll just

look into the sun

and bake....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, July, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada)
Greg Cameron

Fantasy Found Inside An Empty Bubblegum Wrapper

another Three Stooges poke to the eyes

you can't piss anywhere

but on an electric fence

a line of broken glass to the road

all traffic lights red

- but sharks dance in the streets

lions wear garlands of flowers

giraffes just won't mind their own business

you'd join the dance,

but you suspect you're not invited

a little girl tugs on your shirt

says she's lost

so are you

she runs off to a see-saw

where she bounces up and down

even though no one's on the other end

past the trees is an open-air

rock concert

you haven't heard this sort of riffing in years

and when you join the enjoying throng

the bearded guitarist smiles at you

as if to say, "Welcome, my friend.

We were expecting you all along."

you buy some cotton candy,

float off into the sky,

and land at the centre of some small town

bingo hall, shops, pool hall

a man in a suit puts his hand

on your shoulder and says,

"You're quite right -things really are

stacked against you. You might as well

throw it all in. But I'd have you consider

that maybe it isn't as bad as all that.

Hmmmm. Keep your chin up, mister...and

have a nice day!"

- and perhaps to your surprise

you do....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada
Greg Cameron



a drum-rattle

startles birds into the sky

and the sun casts a blank light

upon all


lies swivel on their heels

turn - forward march -

and stomp you beneath

tremendous feet


traffic's tied up something awful

the station plays nothing but

all your favourite oldies

but what the hell is going on?

and you'll be late for work

and you're getting a hard-on

thinking of someone other

than your wife


the opening of a monstrosity of a building

the mayor, skirt flowing in the wind,

smiles with teeth big enough to

chomp off all the dicks for miles around

the architects huddle behind her

proud of something they shouldn't be

proud of

or maybe they're just relieved

they somehow managed to pull it off


a kid's being beaten in an alley

he wandered into the wrong side of town

and he doesn't belong to anything

but a certain gang rules this turf

and he lives on a turf controlled

by some other gang equally stupid

they don't care whether they kill him or not

and a tooth flies to the gutter


a man in a store

sells a kid a gun

he doesn't know what the kid

will do with it and

doesn't care

in the overhead light

his scar is livid

and a skinny pale guy in jeans

is eying guns

as if checking out the cheap porn

with black-and-white photos


a deal is signed

networks come together, pay off

their eyes will be everywhere

you're always guilty in their eyes

the world is fenced off

video surveillance

some lies are more equal

than others

and they'll be considered

pillars of the community


a businessman eyes the girl

who serves him coffee

she smiles knowing

he has lots and lots of money

some of it could be hers

and he leaves some of it

under the coffee cup

when he departs


the photographer at a photo shoot

makes a pass at a model

which she rejects sternly

but he's been rejected before

he shrugs

then tells her of a more unsavoury gig

by a pal of his

across town

and needing the money

she considers it


the politician struggles through his latest lies

and he knows no matter what

they'll forgive him

find excuses

provide 'contexts'

he's a 'character'

that's just the way he is

that's the way people are around here

no matter how ugly the words,

the people, the lies

they'll give him yet another chance

and he dreams of Bigger Things


the open-mouth radio host

bullies another caller

well, that's just your opinion

and I don't think a whole lot

of your opinion

and haven't I heard your voice before?

last Thursday? right....yeah

hey, it's a 'regular' people

pleased to here from you


- and he hangs up

and on to the next call

hello? you're on....


a policeman files a report

there are 2 parties, 1 of them

in the wrong

he sides with the wrong party

because, stupid as he is,

he knows the way the world works


an old jazzman is playing in a

community theatre

almost no one has turned up

he plays his very best

to polite applause

he sells his CDs in the lobby

and wonders why he bothers

but he doesn't need to answer

that question

even rhetorically


a teacher sends the wrong student

to the principal's office

because he never liked the kid in the first place

he wants him out of his classroom

nothing but a smartass anyhow

and to be honest

he likes the bully better


you can hear the fight

all over the neighbourhood

they're always at it

yell, yell, yell

some look out windows

others close windows

and the kids run off

to play someplace else


2 teenagers on bikes stop

to look at a great street painting

on the side of a building

tomorrow it will be painted over

but today they wonder what the Future holds for them

knowing full well there's none


dead fish on the riverbank

no one wonders why

or asks questions

or even brings up the matter casually

and a little boy picks up

a dead fish

and plays with it


(Greg Cameron, Poem, whatever the hell the date it is, Surrey, B.C., Canada)

Greg Cameron


I have nothing to offer you

here - take it

please keep it in a safe place

maybe not in direct sunlight

somewhere you could

look on it now and then

there when you need it,

as it were

- maybe think about it

once in a while

pause for thought

a moment to muse

think of things started

but not completed

remember things I said and did

perhaps raising the

faintest trace of a smile

- and perhaps keep it clean


(Greg Cameron, Poem, June, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada )
Greg Cameron

One More Time/Once Upon a Time

old friends trade drinks, talk

haven't seen each other in years

funny how Time passes

they still see each other

in each other's face

they'd recognize the others' voices

in the blackest cavern

they once were the stuff

of others' memories

maybe still are

they made some noise

the images still out there

the music lingers -

a last drunk in the beer parlor

refusing to leave

they laugh as they haven't laughed

in years

they're glad to see each other

they weren't expecting that

stories exchanged

what are you doing now?

new jokes added to old ones

they start humming, singing a little

thinking aloud

the others sometimes completing a thought

they hadn't planned this

something takes shape

no escaping it

Destiny shoves them out into the night

they look up into a black sky

realize behind a thin film

is nothingness,

lack of air

they decide they best hurry

and they do....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, June, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada)

Greg Cameron

Just In Case

they give you a card

- mighty generous of 'em -

handshakes all around

you go about your day

finally you stick it in a machine

says "Not Accepted."

somehow you knew it all along

and you smile as you

put it back in your wallet,

hanging on to it

just in case....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, June, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada)
Greg Cameron


soldiers suddenly turn up,

say, "we're supposed to kill someone -

who is it?"

the guy next to you - whom you

do not know

at all -

says, "it's him!"

and he points to you

you have no idea what it's about

as they huddle around you

then lead you away....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, June, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada)

Greg Cameron

Get 'Em

you're dressed to kill

- and the shell doesn't reveal

the oyster -

cut 'em down, serve 'em up


the shivers go right to the

bottom of my spine

civilizations crumble

at the toss of your hair

but oh -

just one thing


go get 'em!

(Greg Cameron, Poem, June, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada)
Greg Cameron

My Lady of Darkness

dance for me, my Lady of Darkness

sweep me from this sorry world

and we'll dance in the black reaches of the heavens

lift your dress

I'll kiss your flower

lick hither and nether

we'll taste each other's tongues -

as we press

we'lll forget how cold it is

how far it is

what it's like down there

the lying and dying

the getting and spending

nonsense never-ending

breed without need

create more mouths than you

can possibly feed

things moving without shape or shadow

forces moving at the click of a button

things over before they've started

documents signed unread even by those

who sign them

lies told by those who have no idea

what they're lying about

leave the little man and woman to

starvation, genocide

who cares?

preach democracy, embrace tyranny

no one will think as long as

there's noise and things flickering

let's leave the world to those

who would carve it into parcels,

fence it off, copyright it

the whole world belonging to the fat few

try to tell the victims

they'll cast stones,

drive you into the wilderness

vote for the idiot of your choice

the real decisions are made elsewhere

there is no floor, but

let us dance, my Lady of Darkness

may your nipples be erect

when I bend to give suck

may rivers flow, warmth spread

let us do the deed

here at dizzying heights

let's look up and never down

hold on tight

we have only each other

but no matter what, how much,

or how often we feel

the horror will go on below

inflecting the rhythm

of our dance....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, June, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada - I was writing this particular poem even as one of my brothers came into the room bearing birthday presents for me - I suppose I should have said this poem contains, to put it mildly, suggestive language, but then again we're all adults here. Aren't we?)
Greg Cameron


pale light washes everything

what once was offhand grace

waddles down the aisle

pushing a cart

black-haired boy's legs sticking out

her head swivels back and forth

as if searching for something to destroy

she stops, throws 2 loaves of bread

into the cart, grabs a bag of chips,

some raisin muffins -

clop, clop, clop -

she turns the corner,

lifts two cartons of milk

all the way from the floor

- foof! - pushes on

her boy grabs some candy

she throws it back

she tries to think if there's

anything else - but no

she goes to the checkout

and when the handsome guy

with red cheeks and a mop

of brown hair

- he reminds her of a teenybopper star

she once had a crush on

so many years ago -

smiles and seems to penetrate

to the beauty

that once was there

she blushes

ever so slightly....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, May, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada)
Greg Cameron

Her face had so much oil BP was in court over it 3 times a week.
Travis Cole..................

Buy this guitar so I can buy 4x4's & put some shade over the tomato plan ts

Guess not

You got into my dreams
now you know the secrets of my nightmares
everything I never have spoken
my prayers & what I've been hopin'
never mind it was just a coincidence

Travis Cole ...............

A New Flag Flying

hey, buddy - there's a few flag flying

it's not rooted in tradition

reflecting the age and savour of generations

it's got new colours - bold new colours

proclaiming a new way of doing things

they aren't going to be the way they were before,

you know

we're taking out the trash,

we're kicking out the dead bodies,

ripping up the old lesson plans

we've got some Big Boys in to help us

it's one-size-fits-all

and if you don't fit

that's your tough luck

we're going with or without you

and if I were you

I wouldn't get any fancy ideas about

"freedom of speech" and "freedom of assembly"

'cause we got a place out back

and you might disappear into it

and we just might cover it over

no one will remember your name

a long, long time

and when they do

it'll just be some professors

blinking at the screen in front of them,

talks to a roomful of university students,

and maybe a show or two on

community access television -

and precious good that will do you,

wouldn't you say?

(Greg Cameron, Poem, May, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada)
Greg Cameron


drinking beer on the porch

they watch the cat run

through the unmowed grass,

past the remnants of a car,

under the barb-wire fence,

past the apple tree,

and towards the abandoned house

with glass all over the floors

the house returns their looks

with a frozen wide-eyed gaze

they joke about how kids smoke pot there

just like they used to in the day

- why doesn't someone do something with

the property?

fucked if I know, I'd make

some money out of that if I

were them -

the sun rests pale in the sky

crows fy overhead and roost

in the ribcage of an abandoned barn

the two joke about fucking

in the birdshit and what once

was cowshit ages ago

they're well on their way to

being drunk

and it's not even mid-day

Nature knows no shame

dogs fuck and don't care if

anyone's watching

the kids play by the fountain,

throw mud at each other

the adults watch, acknowledge to each other

they're both getting old

- we all die

isn't it the shits? -

their lips caress the mouths

of the bottles

and their brains slip closer

to Death....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, May, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada)
Greg Cameron

Out The Window

you look out the window into the blackness

the lights - some blinking,

some casting upon cars,

the road, the dividing lines,

the odd person walking somewhere

all the windows - some dark,

some squares/rectangles of light

you wonder if anyone is working late

or someone is making lonely rounds

making sure everything's all right

you wonder what businesses there are,

what government offices

who works there

are they happy?

are they unhappy?

and that person down there

why is he walking?

why isn't he driving?

why isn't he taking a taxi?

is he walking away from something?

is he glad?

is he devastated? unhappy?

a jet flies over

you can see its underbelly

in the window you see

the reflection of a nurse

"you should get some sleep,"

she tells you, "and if you can't,

you could watch TV In bed, you know."

you go compliantly to bed,

pull up the sheet,

put the earphones on,

turn on the little box over your bed,

and watch as though for the first time

something you've seen

at least twice before....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, May, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada)
Greg Cameron

Bring the axe and the cigar baby, the monytree is coming down.



the sun strips the guts of the afternoon

a bird penetrates the air

tree limbs flap

the ground continues to disintegrate

plants would reclaim the lake

in the gravel parking lot

the car awaits its owner

the sun bellybuttons the sky

mashed-potato heaps of mountains

a sheer rock face overlooking

the water

deep, so deep at one point

if you were to sink into it

you'd never come up

it takes your breath away

a catch

moments proceed

but a naked middle-aged woman

dyed hair, buns in the air

suns herself on a raft

and a boy pushes back the rushes....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, May, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada)
Greg Cameron

Has there been a mistake?
The female version of Jesus
the coolest woman on the shitternet
the everything I could ever dream
has one of those phones where if you try to favorite something on twitter you acci'dentally follow them instead getting my hopes up it seems

The Butterfly

the butterfly fluttered on

from leaf to limb

not seeing anything as a problem

it never saw the

great web

reaching out almost invisibly

it struggled and struggled

the spider moved in,

poisoned the butterfly,

and wrapped it up alive

- never once did the

spider think

how beautiful the butterfly


(Greg Cameron, Poem, May, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada)
Greg Cameron


we dreamed of rebellion

changing everything

some got concerned

some made tons of money

we were called names

we made noise

thinking maybe noise changed things

but everything's pretty much

left standing

nothing so much as teeters

some things are kicked to the curb

some things wrapped up and

consecrated as 'classics'

some people make livings talking about this

writing things in journals no one reads

posting on sites no one visits

maybe a 'Day' is proclaimed

city councils pretend they're 'rebels'

and maybe you get to

shake hands with the prime minister

the son of a bitch

you get old, tired

you can't so much as kick the cat

the News maintains its depressing trudge

you hope someone remembers

when someone does

you light up just a little

then everything recedes to the

milk in the fridge, what you've having

for supper

and maybe that stuff about being

'a classic'

tickles a tiny bit

as you sleep longer and deeper

than days of yore....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, May, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada)
Greg Cameron

Living in the past
a dream that never was
not today or yesterday
never will this dream be
a lie of a fantasy
where she has love
that makes my heart beat
I will die before my luck changes
I will die before it comes true

Travis Ray Cole

Don't Look Up

the stars are shuriken

look up and they'll

fly into your eyes,

leaving you forever blind

and so you will


the rest of your days....

(Greg Cameron, April, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada)
Greg Cameron

0% Chance
There's nothing I can do or say
to make things turn out the way
I want her
might as well be lost in time
or homeless and blind
because I'm never going to see
this dream
Travis Ray Cole

As It Happened

her tears turned to glass

and shattered upon

hitting the floor

it was my misfortune

to be walking


(Greg Cameron, Poem, April, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada)
Greg Cameron

It just keeps


Please God make it stop

I don't know how much more I can take


the day bursts it bombshell

on birds, traffic

lines drooping overhead connect nothing

dogs water fire hydrants

fire hydrants water nothing

the sun reflected in a rearview mirror

blinds you just so

the signs outside the porno store

promise depravities previously unimagined

a Chinese grocery store owner

steps out, looks about

in the hopes that casting a gaze

will be casting a net

a motorcyclist argues with a cop

but there is no winning

a bearded guy pushes a bike

out of a bike shop with a tent-like front

the owner waves happily

both have got what they wanted

but a business man's hamburger

oozes onto his suit

a woman clicking neatly by

wishes she could cast off

shoes, panty hose, underwear

and walk the way Nature intended

kids beg for money

they don't really need

two toughs eye a joint

they'll end up breaking into

most obviously

a lawyer says many words to a client

none comforting

young adults huddle plotting

of bands that will bring Art to the masses

a guy in sunglasses daydreams of movies

not yet made

an office girl tries to see romance

in the swirls of coffee

and we're just getting started -

it ain't over by a long shot


(Greg Cameron, Poem, April, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada)

Greg Cameron

Without Irony

waiting in the department store

I see a couple mulling

through racks of clothes

the woman a mass of bleached hair

in black pants suit

the man a great shaved head

dressed all in black

they pause before a rack

the woman says: "Could you

see yourself wearing this?"

the man replies: "Oh, yes.

I could see myself wearing


(Greg Cameron, Poem, April, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada)
Greg Cameron

No Flowers

bitterness is no blank page

upon which clusters of words

storm to huddle against


Love catches in the throat, sputters

your reach repelled by shove

you cast upon barren ground

coldness cuts to the quick

a moment passes

then years

the yawn of Time

all the things you did

all the things she did

who knows?

who remembers?

you wish you could feel the warmth

the fall of breath

the close of fingers around yours

you don't know what to do

no one's going to tell you

and tears water

no flowers....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, April, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada)
Greg Cameron

I Dream of Concrete

the dream of concrete reasserts itself

bikes lean gainst the wall,

casting long shadows

the sun plays above that which would poke it

the blue sky is flatter

than any pavement

fences sag on the border of collapse

illiterate scrawl poses an obscene question

which,in all likelihood, answers itself

cars soak in the heat

though meters are pumped full of quarters

time is running out

kids hide behind trash barrels

cats proceed on their way

and a woman walks along, miffed

there is no one to appreciate

her finer points....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, April, 2013, Surrey, B.C., Canada )
Greg Cameron

Look Up

if you were to find yourself

unable to tear

yourself away from that thing

and look up

you just might

miss me

and that would be a shame,

wouldn't it?

(Greg Cameron, Poem, April, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada)
Greg Cameron

Against the Tide

the rock face by the sea shore

looks down upon you

the tide turns away in disgust

seagulls squawk, whine,

wondering why you don't give them food

the water roars a thousand banalities -

trips to the beach,

ephemeral songs forgotten as they were made

ice cream that melted decades ago

stupid people laughing stupidly

frisbees thrown

tans crinkling to cancer

children tormenting animals

left behind because they

thought things would always be the same

seaweed the limp hair of someone

who has lived and lost

a dog barks, plays in the spray

people look for parking,

move on down the road

the sun winks complicity

families ignore the sand in their food

people laugh, adjust their sunglasses

and a crab scuttles away

trying to escape

while no one is


(Greg Cameron, Poem, April, 2012, Surrey, B.C., Canada)

Greg Cameron

The Future

the Future is here - the Future is now


get aboard before you're left behind

things are happening - we're making it happen

exciting things are going on

business and government march hand-in-hand

everyone can see

this is the place to be

development - things going up

things spreading out

who wants to live in the past?

if you blink you'll miss it!

if you don't love it you can't kiss it!

because we're changing with a changing world

if you're not for us you're against us

you're going against the flow of history

you know what happens to those

who go against the flow

take our hand

get aboard the train

get aboard a supersonic plane

the future is sealed with a handshake

gone are the smoke-filled backrooms

things are signed in boardrooms

a press opportunity - everybody smiling

shaking hands, looking into the camera

flashes going off

everyone goes away

someone cleans up

but there'll be job -

jobs, jobs, jobs, jobs, jobs!

you're not against jobs, are you?

you're against progress

there's no turning back

Time only goes one direction

the past is the past - who wants to be there?

because now is where it's happening

now is Ground-Zero

we're looking for what the Future might bring

and what it will bring is -

jobs, jobs, jobs, jobs, jobs, jobs,

jobs, jobs, jobs, jobs, jobs, jobs!

we're not going back to the Stone Age

just because you like to sleep with animals

buildings reach for the sky

businesses multiply, mount each other

we have all kinds of projects

copious plans have been drafted

building towards expansion

and expand we will,

swell, swell, swell!

the Future will build till it

shoots off in the sky,

splatters everywhere

it'll give seed, give rise

to things giving rise

things are building

things are massing

I, for one, am excited over the potential

a potential building to an actuality

so blinding

you'll turn to salt

change is the nature of the universe

things must change

you can't fight change

and if the jobs aren't permanent

or are low-paying

or not as many as originally projected

and the whole thing favours

a chosen few

well, no one loves a party-pooper

don't poop on our party!

join the party

we'll all have a good time

watch the money flow in

because the Future is here - the Future is now

wow, oh wow!

spread your arms and grab hold

in embrace

it's going to be wild

hold on tight

'cause it's a long way down

and you don't wanna go there,

do you?

(Greg Cameron, Poem, April, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada)
Greg Cameron

I'm in love with a psychiatrist I found on twitter
does that make me cr azy?

I want to be in love so bad I can taste it

please please
please please please
please please please please
please please please
please please

Bring him to me
fashion him

My heart is the sacrifice

I give everything


I wonder how tall she is now that she has my heart.

The post office said they would get it there
3 days ago
81 miles to go
I just hope they lose the darn package
& pay the insurance at this point
I'll make $40
but I couldn't get that lucky
It looks like he is having it sent to the border & will drive down to the states because I said I only ship to the USA the American I am
maybe he just lives at the farthest point north who cares


They made Man and Woman

in Their Image

They stood back to

consider Their Work

one observed,

"We sure are ugly,

aren't we?"

- and They laughed....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, March, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada)

Greg Cameron

source of drinking water for millions
major shipping lane
much worse than previously thought
Coast Guard
barge collision
dumped 168,000 gallons
marine life
Has Been Contained
Galveston Bay
collided reopened
Pipeline Spill Twice As Large As Original Estimate
The channels you pay $178 A MONTH FOR

What's the Hurry?

aslant the chesterfield

I look past the living room

past the dining room

past the chair by the table

out the window

at Clarence's tree

- and at that moment

a bird, streamlined,

head intently pointed forward,

speeds by

and I think,

"What's the hurry?"....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, March, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada)
Greg Cameron

Remember yesterday plays as I smash the radio like it was your head It's alright that you're fat now we shared a few smiles in the 5th grade
Your drug history bores me
don't care why you have no brain
you can be my job reference & change your phone number more often than underwear

I don't give a fuck about a chorus
I don't even care about a verse
I'm thinking about killing you
right inside the church
lalalalala FuckYo u
Travis Cole

her smooth yellow hair like ice cream butter
her funny jokes and a real doctor too
her body like a song with a heartbeat on fire
both the left and right sides of my heart want h er

Travis Cole

her smooth yellow hair like ice cream butter
her funny jokes and a real doctor too
her body like a song with a heartbeat on fire
both the left and right sides of my heart want h er

Travis Cole

I can feel your fingers thru this la ce

I shoulda waited a yr or 2 to binge watch Bates Motel now I have to wait every wk for the next ep

New World

Mom and Dad went out

to find food,

but they got eaten by crocodiles,

leaving you here in the cheap motel,

sitting on a strange bed,

watching a huge flashing television

outside the other children

laugh and splash in the swimming pool

a car honks

the highway over the hill roars steadily

but meanwhile on the screen

the puppets rebel against the host,

tie him up,

take over the show,

tell you the rule of

adults is over -

overthrow them,

kill them all

it's a New World

and even though you're scared

you can't turn the damn thing


(Greg Cameron, Poem, March, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada - just a dream of yesteryear, children....)

Greg Cameron

My dream is a low IQ whose brain is shrinkimg from the good times because tomorrow's body don't need a mind recall or reason
my heart beat on a turn
to love a rental
broken leases
illogical math problems
lying vagina
chemical cheeses
pawn shops and pimps are the love she needed
Travis Cole

What you are
what I think you are
the idea of what I think you are

Are all marvelous

Im in love with all three

So come


Show yourself to me
don't you dissapear

What you are
what I think you are
the idea of what I think you are

Are all marvelous

Im in love with all three

So come


Show yourself to me
don't you dissapear

Rows of Desks

he smells of erasers

why are they called 'blackboards'

when they're green?

a swipe of the brush

wipes away the past

you choke on chalk

why does the wood of your desk

reflect the overhead light? -

a blurred, open-mouthed kiss

scrapes, scuffs on the floor

that will never come out

multicolours of the globe

the pure circle of the waste basket

the pointer indicates a problem

you don't answer

she slaps the pointer hard

on the desk

outside birds, as if in reaction,

fly off

a girl with bubblegum breath


the time is nowhere near

where you want it to be

and though it does you no good

your shoelaces are untied....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada
Greg Cameron

In relationshits You get an incomplete

Don't be fooled

The smile hides e verything

I'm so lost
I just want a reciprocated obsession
the keys are blurred
my head is exploding

what will be left is the smoke of sentiment
a puff of an intention
a vapour of what once was

I'm killing myself
this mania doesn't end

There's no light
Even where you used to be
This grand vision
of something so spectacularly ordinary
made so fucking difficult to find

my heart continues to break

I don't even know how it's possible
the pieces just get smaller and smaller I gu ess

The content of her beauty my brain almost wants to cry
my heart says sigh to the color of her eyes
there is no one
no one that can win my heart from her
not even the television with all of the world
I might think I love someone until I see her face then it all is over and nowhere is there a trace

Infinity, Take Two

I see nothing in your eyes

excuse me while I

step outside and see

if the sky is as Infinite

as it used to be....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, Feb., 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada)
Greg Cameron

The cow says moo
the cat says meow
the sheep goes baa
the tumour in her brain
says "He's a drug dealer".


She must have a tumour in her brain
almost every minute of her footage is straight up stupid
I use to have one that looked just like Buffy
I haven't stopped loving her although she stopped looking like that so the memory stands alone with no life to back it like a ghost

Eat the peanut butter & jelly
I'll just throw the steak away

All the words in the english language couldn't get me what I want and my luck has run out a long time ago
Pregnant ballerinas, puppet-masters and the first lady
another Sasquatch squall for a valentine refugee
life don't have to be this stupid

Her eyes say nothing about the beauty of the population map or how the world will look after the water rises she is more than simple
Her brain less than that of a rodent
the oil spills giving the fish heart attacks in the gulf hasn't helped anything the train cars leave the tracks every single day and oil, chemicals and toxic waste reach the peoples water supply while those who notice are whistle blowers and will lose their jobs
Money is the answer, one day the rich will only have money to eat because the money has destroyed all other life
Google will save us they will give the poor in Africa free internet and the poor in the United States will become sad that they have to pay for it.
All of the problems will soon go away when we get a chance to vote for the new Hitler and god knows we need one. Canada is like heaven where the kid waits 12 yrs for an allergy testing she could have saved all that time with a FLUKE Digital Multimeter or a knock off made by children in China who hope to grow up to work at Ford or Walmart.
Sure the bible talks against the taxpayers paying for breast implants for the men who go to jail for whistle blowing on the government putting tracking devices in your license plates.
With that being said can the hillbilly churches afford to chip the snakes that kill the preachers while snake handling?
Can the shitty poetry site afford spell check that will change the nonsensical ramblings into nonsensical ramblings. We shall stop funding the children stop feeding the people who paid the tax legalize mayors on crack and decorate the new Obama / Dali museum where prostitution is legal because it is not gambling anymore than electing satan and his bank account.

Travis Cole

I've never seen
A more perfect representation

The bend of his beard
Just so accurately mimicking
The lines of his face
So beautifully outlining

What lies beneath
A foretelling of the gorgeous angle that would be

So fucking beautiful it hurts

I understand
Is this what Freida fe lt


I've never seen
A more perfect representation

The bend of his beard
Just so accurately mimicking
The lines of his face
So beautifully outlining

What lies beneath
A foretelling of the gorgepus angle that would be

So fucking beautiful it hurts

I understand
Is this what Freida fe lt



you're running out of


but you haven't even

a watch -


(Greg Cameron, Poem, February, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Ca nada)
Greg Cameron

On the screen she looks obease and dirty
looking back at the security cams as she wobbles by
I also have footage of a bird and a cat
how dumb can she be
I don't want her and I will never want her
she wastes her life following me around like an animal who lost it's mother

I guess when it's all said & done we can be glad we are not from Philly.

The Light-Green Room

you enter a room

light-green walls, a window

no furniture -

except for chairs

upon which various people sit

at random points

about the room

no one acknowledges you,

looks at you

tentatively you proceed

around the room,

stop in front of each person,

and give them an exploratory prod

each one screams

when you're finished prodding

you go to the centre of the room,


as one they scream

long, piercingly

when they're finished

you continue to stand

in the centre of the room,

afraid to move,

to do anything....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, February, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Can ada)
Greg Cameron

You try to explain your disorders and dysfunction with radical thought slowly typing words no one cares to read the mind recalls the dream of you hijacking the words of others for your newest book to pay for the over priced car made in another country and the high rent on the shithole you have to run the heat in 11 months out of the year and yet you still have to do something illegal to be able to fatten up the whores so they will chose you to be the one they bitch at about nothing just so you will be miserable enough to write so more bullshit and pretend you're Kate Middleton.
Travis Cole






"There is still a mental person stalking me, go ahead make your jokes."

The cameras put distance between her sickness and my freedom but it doesn't take it away
she is telling people I am her heart
don't they see she is insane?
In Florida when someone is locked up in the nuthouse they call it Baker act or she was Baker acted
that will be her next vaca
no one wants to buy my shitty computers with XP on them so I can't get another dvr with more cameras to make sure the sick one does not come near
I could just leave food for the bears and maybe they will beef up security for me the wire for an electric fence is only $17 for 1/4 mile but you still need insulators & the power & booster maybe she could feel that the neighbors have fattened her up now and they can keep her, no th anks
It don't matter anymore.

"It's as if when god made her brain her opened up the toilet & he sharted"

Damaged goods, she remains useless
primitive abnormal brain leaking raw sewage
speaking words that everyone has grown tired of
her repertoire a broken link
lost answers
her hopes a lie
her dreams trivia
self saboteur with a long-standing pattern of grandiosity
a riddle, a joke, the clown whore
Travis Cole

Cutting Him Down

they wondered about

the traces of ink

about his neck

as they

cut him down

from the


(Greg Cameron, Poem, Feb., 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada)
Greg Cameron

Not Down


Time's up, not down

the Sun smirks its good cheer

blue skies are

uninviting depths

clouds pull up their skirts

the ground beneath you is not solid

do you really want to know

what lurks underneath?

roots caress the dirt

let's leave them there

the ground hungrily sucks

the moisture

pebbles are neither

here nor there

flowers spit on your path

birds wheel to mock

Time winds up to throw

and no matter what

you're out....

(Greg Cameron, More a Passing Thought Than A Poem, February, 2013, Surrey, B.C., Canada
Greg Cameron

Dicen que "un clavo saca el otro",
Pero mejor aun
Es un martillo con c abo

How could you?

Please take the pain away. I can't take it.

I literally heard it crack tonite

An anvil leaning against
An anchor holding it down

When will the suffering end

I keep on begging
For something you can never grant

This is useless
I can't take it anymore


the evening could have gone worse

people didn't totally embarrass themselves, others

no one said anything jarring

no one waved a flag saying

"I'm stupid - and now I'll prove it!"

resentments smouldered in the ashes

without ever glowing red

no sarcasms punctured anyone's balloons

doubts slumbered peacefully

no one put the wrong foot forward

danced out of step

although no one lays great claims to 'class'

there is still the matter of appearances

if you can't look others in the eye

you at least have to look yourself in the mirror

and hope like hell the mirror

refrains from wry comment

no one hit any shallows

everyone trolled discreet depths

grateful of nips, tugs

food, words eaten

liquids, looks consumed

nothing rested poorly

nothing came back

halfway down the stairs

she stops, flashes you a look -

"did I do all right?"

you give her a terse smile of


squeeze her limp hand

just a little

- then you both go on into

the unpromising night....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, February, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada - incidentally, I am very grateful for your indulgence case you thought I weren't. Best...Greg.)
Greg Cameron

The Middle of the Night

you call to me in the middle of the night

I didn't know you were there

into the light you come

you reach out as if

to take in and absorb me,

draw me in, swallow me

I take you by the arm, look into your eyes

what reassuring depths I find

the glisten of your smile

the warmness of your cheeks

when I put my arms around you

I feel you breathe in and out

I see your shadows, your light

you say it's time

a statement of fact

no wheedling, no arm-pulling

we take each others' hands

and turn into the darkness,

knowing we trust each other

and there's nothing more to be said....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, January, 2014, Surrey,
B.C., Canada)
Greg Cameron

I Saw Love

I saw Love on a street corner,

smoking, casting her eye on

anything that caught her fancy

I walked up to her and said,

"Hi! How are ya?"

she looked me over

up and down

then said, "whatcha got to offer?"

"not much, I'm afraid," I confessed

- with a little snort

she turned away,

sticking her nose in the air

I walked on....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, January, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada - been sick/don't know if anybody pays attention to these things or not/oh well....)

Greg Cameron

Atlas Fuckīd & Inflated,
industries integrity conīs the cord.


Nothing Better

it had been a long trip back

what little was to be seen was seen

what little to do was done

same old shows shimmering

in front of dubious beds

instant access to everything

as if you had never left home

a flick of the finger

but now you are home

it waits as if you had abandoned it

and now you expect things to

go on as they did before

the car disgorges its contents

bags sit in fat defiance

you struggle up the steps

ant-like beneath a tremendous weight

she takes up the rear

pointedly jangling the keys

as if searchng for the right one

when she knows the right one

is there by her thumb

and she looks at your labours

with a tired eye

as if to say she loves you

because she has

nothing better

to do....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, January, 2014, Surrey, B.C., Canada)
Greg Cameron

How does one so stealthily dissapate
Dissapear so perfectly
Vanish into thin air

With having no one be the wiser?

I twisted
So I must un-twist
Un-fold the origami
Scrape all the way through the bear trap
And hope no one sees the scars
The folds
The creases that keep rearing their ugly heads

The bane of my existence
Only to hold on to

The chosen few


I was found


and wanting

I remain....

(Greg Cameron, December, 2013, Surrey, B.C., Canada)
Greg Cameron

Lifestyle Decisions

two men get out of a van

in what appear to be

astronaut suits

all around everything is

dead, blackened

plants shrivelled

animals lying limp

- and two humans

on the ground,

one man, one woman

their features blackened beyond recognition

both looking up,

reaching forth

as if in supplication

the two men waddle over

to the two prone figures

one man gives the woman

a short, stiff kick

she crumbles to dust

the man turns to the other

and says,

"I guess they both made the wrong

lifestyle decisions...."

and the two men laugh....

(Greg Cameron, December, 2013, Surrey, B.C., Canada - Merry Christmas, folks)
Greg Cameron


her nose turned down

as she looked deep into the pit

full of dead people

limbs this way and that -

dolls dumped at random

into a chest -

she turned to the man beside her

dressed in a military uniform,

smiled thinly, and said,

"I wish we had the freedom

to do this

in our country...."

(Greg Cameron, Poem, Dec., 2013, Surrey, B.C., Canada)

Greg Cameron

The Final Scream

in screaming agony

blood running into your eyes

you look out upon a world

that mocks you, hates you

you know there's no one left

nothing left you can

say or do

you're left to your fate,

your pain

as your life drips away

bit by bit

- and even though no one is listening

you cry out....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, Dec., 2013, Surrey, B.C., Ca nada)
Greg Cameron

The Great Fist

a Great Fist grabs you

your arms and legs flail

as you ascend into the sky

you look down

as the fear subsides

you see nothing but war,

armies spreading out,

villages exterminated,

whole families shot,

people lined up in rows

mowed down one by one

rape, plunder

smoke rising -

just another cloud

you're simultaneously

awed, saddened

you see columns of

broken men marching away

from disgraceful deeds,

fields of blood

and even as you begin to cry

the Fist crushes you....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, December, 2013, Surrey, B.C., Canada)

Greg Cameron

A New Hope

they dragged Santa to the

place of execution,

whipping him, mocking him

- at last they crucified him,

hung a sign around his neck saying

"No Refunds!"

they gave him vinegar

instead of eggnog

and divided everything remaining

in his sack

amongst themselves

finally, under the weight of his

gut, he died

- then he went down to Hell

and took back all his presents

then without the aid

of his trusty sleigh

he ascended high in the air

and flew back to the North Pole

where he meditated glumly

upon the possibility of

better days....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, Dec., 2013, Surrey, B.C., Canada)
Greg Cameron

I'm done with the ollies in my sheet s


People Marching

in the middle of the night

I heard people marching

I woke up, got out of bed,

looked out the windows,

turned on the TV,

checked the Internet,

phoned a friend,

looked out the windows again -


I stood a long time in the livingroom

in my underwear -

all I could hear then

was a dog barking

and the occasional car

I shrugged, went back to bed,

but as my brain sank

into darkness

I once again heard

people marching....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, Dec., 2013, Surrey, B.C., Canada - feeling lousy/rough night, folks - hope I did this okay....)
Greg Cameron

Time is spent
Perpetually erasing
Everything you've ever said

I want to hold on

The vapour
The ghost
A representation
Of your visceral existence

So real I can taste it

But forced to push away
And erase

Yet again


he'd rather be drinking beer

at the hotel in the industrial park

listening to the clink of balls,

watching a slightly overweight stripper

desperately reveal herself

he'd rather wander amongst

the monstrous municipal machines

in the neighbouring lot

or explore the skeletons of old cars

their windows smashed in,

shards of glass all over the seats

at the gravel lot behind

- but he's here

in an itchy suit

at a table of people

listening to some young woman

with long curly brown hair

enthuse about God knows what

at the bearded instructor beams on

and the sun dies

outside the window....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, Novemember, 2013, Surrey, B.C., Canada)
Greg Cameron


in that moment

you know you've lost her

- and suddenly you notice

everything around you

in loud detail

and the coolness of a breeze

that didn't so much as register


(Greg Cameron, Poem, November, 2013, Surrey, B.C., Cana da)
Greg Cameron

Your Pleasure

my hands are covered with blood

I'm innocent, I tell you

can't you see?

the moment lingers

then departs

a breath drawn

a breath suspended

I can tell from your eyes

you don't believe me

sometimes a shrug

isn't good enough

enough of these illusions

I turn with open arms

your eyes meet mine

I await your pleasure,

my dear....

(November, 2013, Surrey, B.C., Canada - Greg Cameron, Poem)
Greg Cameron


sunny day

the one on the right is worried

he'll be chopped out of the picture

the one on the left worried

the sun is reflecting off his glasses

the Big Man is at centre

in case there were any doubt

- they've spent days pouring

over document after document

what is acknowledged they have signed

what is unacknowledged

is understood

no one will read the fine print

certainly not the rodents in the press

that which they have signed

will help the people they know

and as for the rest

they don't know them

they have joked

they have talked of family

mutual problems

the vexing problem of why some people

won't do exactly what you say

they know protesters are nowhere near

the Big Guy made sure of that

the media make sure

no dissenting voices sound

Big Things for Big People

no one hear thinks of

ants or anthills

they're all quite pleasantly

full of food, wine

they look so good in their suits

and when the cameras go off

they all show their teeth....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, November, 2013, Surrey, B.C., Canada)

Greg Cameron

For You

I know all too well

I disappoint

but before you go

I'll have you consider this

- a little box I hold

before me

take it

open it up

look inside

it's for you....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, November, 2013, Surrey, B.C., Canada and, man, am I tir ed....)
Greg Cameron


foggy morning

sun gleaming over

grey roofs

tops of the wire fence

connected by delicate

interlacing strings of dew

shimmering in the sunlilght

almost forming a

fragile fence atop a fence

as the mist arises

from the ground

as if to

reach out....

(October, 2013, Poem, Surrey, B.C., Ca nada)
Greg Cameron

The Love Doll

the love doll will no longer inflate -

beyond repair

lying shrivelled, lifeless on the bed

flat smile still on face, eyes wide

beside it on the bed is a naked plump old man

sobbing genuinely

tits heaving

holding one deflated hand

tears running down his cheeks

having lost someone

he loves....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, Oct., 2013, Surrey, B.C., Canada - don't think I've posted this one before; although it seems akin to the last poem I printed here, in fact the poems were written many years apart....)
Greg Cameron

You will regret the day you met me - you found me - you will regret it - that is a promise you can take to h ell!


my tears are diamonds

gather them together

scoop them up

swallow them

fly immediately to

another country

shit them out -

they're yours....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, Oct., 2013, Surrey, B.C., Canada)
Greg Cameron

Having a Mind to be Kind

you seem to have worked yourself

into something

of a box

since you are a trifle


permit me

to shovel on

the dirt....

(Greg Cameron, October, 2013, Surrey, B.C., Canada)
Greg Cameron

All Wet

you've left me here on these wet steps

no matter - I always loved grey skies

the patter of rain on jacket

the occasional obscuring mist

paper on the ground turning

to mush

notice how the leaves droop with moisture

I love to touch them

watch your step -

silt gathers beneath your feet

I would love to share an umbrella

but, in any event, I have none

part of me wants to sink into the earth

where my roots would spread out

my hands turn to leaves

to reach out to the sky

but a cold wind blows

rain whips against the face

I must hurry on

without you,

it seems....

(Greg Cameron, Poem,Oct., 2013, Surrey, B.C., Canada)
Greg Cameron


I know you will evaporate

when I put my arms

around you

but please

let me hug you


(Greg Cameron, Poem, October, 2013, Surrey, B.C., Canada)
Greg Cameron

Do You Mind?

I know you love me

and all that,

but do you mind

if I go over there

and talk with those people?

you're a sweetie....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, Oct., 2013, Surrey, B.C., Canada - this trifle was actually three different things coming together in my head at the same case you think minimalism implies minimal thought processes. Cheers....)
Greg Cameron


he waves a flag

is it surrender?

is it rebellion?

let's shoot him

just in case....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, Oct., 2013, Surrey, B.C., Cana da)
Greg Cameron

Being with you
Is worse
Than being alone

I have become
All I have feared
All I hate

The lowest level shines
Made true and empty
In your eyes
You are all you want to hear
You only ever want to see yourself
Know yourself
At my expense

I crave the days when simplicity reigned supreme
When I knew what it was to breathe

Inspiration to insanity
There's a huge valley

Where my heart

Used to be


Waiting For You

why do you stab me in the eyes?

I'm lying here in a field of blood

waiting for you

always, always waiting for you

you can't build houses

out of bubblegum wrappers

tinsel never makes the sun blink

the grass is dead

flowers curl in upon themselves

smash my head in with a rock

I don't care

I won't eat the dead animal

behind the bush

I give the finger to passers-by

pick fights with those

tougher than me

I hate the birds

why don't they go away?

don't scream

it gets on my nerves

don't step on my shadow

I'm superstitious

let children hang themselves

from the swingset

the sun spews light all over us

but I'm always, always

waiting for you

I give a little wave,

a little smile

you're glad to see me

aren't you?


(Greg Cameron, October, 2013, Surrey, B.C., Canada -just exploring the darker side of my vision, folks. Cheers.. ..)
Greg Cameron


clouds mass on the Mountain

raising One Great Fist

but blue skies seem forever

as you sprawl in the grass,

wondering how things could be

so green

you play with a maple leaf,

admiring its edges,

knowing green will turn red

a cow looks over the barbed wire,

wondering with great eyes

when you'll be so kind as to feed it

a thistle arises by the water tap

succulent parsnips all in a row

carrots just over there

beds of roses

from here you can see the yellow motel

by the highway

you get up, shake off the leaves,

break off a clump of grass,

stuff it in the cow's moist pink mouth

then run around, all around

in your mind a comic book adventure

you tire, head for the front steps

where you find a slug

inching its way in its own slime

and with a smile

you squash it

- and the guts pop out....

(Greg Cameron, Poem, October, 2013, Surrey, B.C., Canada)
Greg Cameron

Poems pruned on 10-01-13

poems_01-08-00 archive
poems_01-21-05 archive
poems_02-02-02 archive
poems_02-03-04 archive
poems_02-19-05 archive
poems_02-26-00 archive
poems_03-08-03 archive
poems_03-23-02 archive
poems_05-03-04 archive
poems_05-12-99 archive
poems_05-15-03 archive
poems_06-08-05 archive
poems_07-24-02 archive
poems_08-11-00 archive
poems_08-15-99 archive
poems_08-24-03 archive
poems_09-08-01 archive
poems_09-10-05 archive
poems_09-23-05 archive
poems_10-08-03 archive
poems_10-27-99 archive
poems_10-29-02 archive
poems_12-09-05 archive
poems_12-18-01 archive
poems_12-06-06 archive
poems_03-12-07 archive
poems_06-27-08 archive
poems_08-09-08 archive
poems_08-10-08 archive
poems_08-11-08 archive
poems_08-12-08 archive
poems_08-13-08 archive
poems_08-14-08 archive
poems_08-15-08 archive
poems_08-16-08 archive
poems_08-17-08 archive
poems_08-18-08 archive
poems_08-20-08 archive
poems_10-27-08 archive
poems_10-28-08 archive
poems_10-29-08 archive
poems_10-30-08 archive
poems_11-01-08 archive
poems_11-02-08 archive
poems_11-03-08 archive
poems_11-05-08 archive
poems_11-12-08 archive
poems_11-19-08 archive
poems_11-23-08 archive
poems_11-28-08 archive
poems_11-30-08 archive
poems_12-05-08 archive
poems_03-21-09 archive
poems_04-08-09 archive
poems_04-14-09 archive
poems_04-18-09 archive
poems_04-23-09 archive
poems_04-30-09 archive
poems_05-07-09 archive
poems_05-11-09 archive
poems_05-29-09 archive
poems_06-10-09 archive
poems_06-17-09 archive
poems_06-26-09 archive
poems_07-06-09 archive
poems_07-12-09 archive
poems_07-19-09 archive
poems_07-25-09 archive
poems_08-21-09 archive
poems_06-22-10 archive
poems_05-26-11 archive
poems_03-11-12 archive
poems_05-14-12 archive
poems_10-15-12 archive
poems_10-01-13 archive