Poem 1: down by the watering hole
They come together
for one goal that all can share.
One by one they walk or slink
over for a cool drink,
down by the watering hole.
Predators and prey;
relatives, rivals, friends,
it matters not.
They cast their animosity aside
down at the watering hole.
A place of safety,
with no need to fight
for one’s right to drink.
There’s enough to share around
over in the watering hole.
There shall be times when
the droughts dry up the lot,
leaving not a drop.
This shan’t be the end though,
not for the watering hole.
The rains shall bless us once more,
and those who left will return
to this place of peace.
All shall sate their thirst once more
down by the watering hole.
Poem 2: Crimson Threads
Crocheted through space and time,
reason falls through the cracks.
In Fate’s wrinkled hands is
mended an endless cross,
stitched with no end in sign.
Only she knows the path her
needles track along the cosmic tapestry.
Tangled knots are unraveled quickly,
hard patterns she effortlessly
resolves with a gentle touch all
experienced craft-makers envy.
All of her works are seamless,
done with a finesse that
strives to connect those hearts bound by destiny.
Poem 3: Confessions of Love
As I gaze upon thine brilliant light,
I care not if I should lose my sight.
How could my simple pen ever convey
these sensations I feel every day?
I stress to find my tongue is tied in knots,
I’ve not the words to describe these thoughts.
How then, may I confess my love to you?
To my heart, I must strive to stay true.
If you find in yours what I’ve found in mine,
would you then be my dearest sunshine?
Poem 4: Listen to Brother
You don’t know what you really want.
You don’t know what it is you need.
He knows best what you seek.
Listen to Brother,
he’ll keep you happy.
You know what he says is right.
You know he’ll help you survive the night.
He knows when you’ve done wrong.
Listen to Brother,
he’ll ensure your safety.
Just stay in line,
you’ll be fine.
Just trust in his wisdom.
Trust in Brother.
Trust only in Brother.
No need to worry,
no cause for concern.
There are no problems
when Big Brother’s listening.
Think of Brother.
Think only of Brother.
As long as you listen,
he’ll love you.
Just don’t do anything
that would upset Big Brother.
You don’t want to be on his bad side,
right?
Right?
Listen to Brother.
Listen to Brother.
Listen to Brother.
Poem 5: Defining Family
What is family?
Is it something that can be
counted or defined?
The dictionary
may tell you, but only through
basic principles.
Can we truly see
what really is family
through our words alone?
Is a family
a large group of like-minded
individuals?
Could family be
a close-knit clan built between
those of the same blood?
Perhaps family
is but a societal construct
born from the unknown?
The answer will change
depending on who you ask,
there is no simple
solution to such
a quandary like finding
the word’s true meaning.
A family is
what you make of it, and that’s
all there is to it.
Poem 6: Our City
Edmonton:
a city divided,
yet people united
in discordant harmony.
An architectural
Dadaistic jungle;
historic structures scattered
amongst towering skyscrapers,
a mound of metal orbs
beside a busy highway
nestled in nature,
an empty coliseum
and bustling stadium
connected by train.
A city brought together
yet torn apart
by energy,
an economy
built on arbitrary
lines and pipes
drilled in stone.
A common identity
crafted in diversity,
festivity, and hockey
on Treaty 6 territory.
We may not always act
in unity,
but at the end of the day,
this is our city.
Tyler DeWriter 