bloor and monroe

i see Her... but i do not understand...
i witness homeless men and women... on the stresst of Toronto...
and i see myself.... i feel their pain... yet i am helpless... to their needs... wants...

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why am i so immersed in Her realm... why am i a prisoner still of Her gaze...???
~~~

i traverse the streets of toronto... and all i feel is pain... my city has been transformed... wholly... fully... completely...
into a Police State... the G8~G20 continues to exploit the masses...
THE MASSES...
WHO really CARES about THE masses...???!!!??
____----____----_____----____----_____-----_____
Who is between the S P A C E S...?!

~~~~~
i have visions of Her in my city... i am unable to have a promenade... without Her scent on my lips...

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i wonder when their pain will subside... i wonder what is was like 200 years ago...
how many of my red brethren were on these same sentinels... where are all the trees... where have all the flowers gone...?
why do we continue to kill them...????

~~~

i wonder when i will ever be able to acquire a new consciousness without Her in my psyche...
at Bloor and Monroe
the homeless men and women make their home...
i am just a hooded pilgrim without a hajj....
i live in a city i no longer recognize...??!!!
today i am ashamed to be a Torontonian...

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today... today... i am closer to that realm... that Other kingdom...
and i still have not reached Her...
She has yet to reciprocate my love
i long to die in Her arms... but there are only Silent Walls
which are now immersed with the cries of the protesters...
~~~~~

the Toronto rain continues... there is not enough of it
to purge me of Her... Her scent... Her vision... Her touch..
i am a pilgrim without a mission... a poet without a muse... a prophet without a scroll... a painter without a canvass...
a gravedigger without a spade... a homeless man without a hovel...
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my realm fills with atoms... i am unable to ponder the destruction that i have caused... the chaos that rains on Her
Psyche...
will She ever forgive me... will She ever forget...
the tears are many... but i refuse to show Her...
my realm fills with words... i am unable to hear them... i am unable to ponder the disarray that i have caused Her...
my realm fills with yawps from my city... a city which is now foreign to my eyes.... at Bloor and Monroe.
i see them decay... i see them with their hits... i see them struggle... i see them searching for nooks...
why am i so immersed in a love that will never reify itself...?????
every night... a thousand daggers pierce my soul... my body...
only to reawaken with Her vision in my psyche...
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The sane are not far from madness...
i am a madman plunged in a river of dementia...
i am immersed in a city that i do not recognise....
a city that purges , represses ... oppresses its citizens...
~~~
at bloor and monroe i yearn for Her...
but i only see empty alleys...
empty promises...
empty ouvertures...
insecurities...
and one hundred indecisions...
No, the universe does not hold axioms...
No, death has no humble abode...
No, i am not sober... She has intoxicated me...!!!!!
Yes, the Earth is an absurd plane...
Yes, we only have our vulnerability...
Yes, we only have love to proffer... amid this absurdity...
at monroe and bloor i plunge into the abyss that is Toronto.