Snow Capped Mountains Over Parking Lot

•April 4, 2018 • 2 Comments

The shots ring out in the parking lots
We scatter like rabbits shot with shots
We break apart and fall like snow
A bloody frozen rain upon the earth

The echo forms like a marching band
We flail like flying fish in sand
We waterfall and body blow
A wailing sound, like dying and rebirth

We donut twice on the asphalt lawn
We twitter and twinkle and fawn forlorn
The blinking texts we bear to show
A spatter of wit, a sprinkle of mirth

The snow falls deep on the launching pad
We shot in space, surprised and sad
We fall apart in the orbits, low
A barren world below our valued worth

The night calls clear and heeds the moon
We burn up way too soon, too soon
We vaccinate and shutter slow
A sea of blood becomes our national girth

The bitter bingles and buffers the fight
We vodka twice and across the night
We melt and drink again and know
The rabbits shiver waiting for the snow

April 2008-2018 Derek Wilson


I wrote the title as a FB status 10 years ago, sitting in a hotel in Reno. Tonight I thought it should have the rest of it.



•September 12, 2016 • Leave a Comment

I snagged the world on a wire
as it was trying to pass me by
folded and painted, pink and blue kite
thrashing about in the darkening sky

“You’ll never take me alive!” it screamed
and hacked at the binds, tore at the brace
and that was the last we saw of Earth
drifting off into distant space


September 2016 Derek Wilson


wild walls

•August 25, 2016 • Leave a Comment

you wish things
trying to remember why
but a clock ticks
it’s distracting
the drip, drip, drip
of seconds seeping
through the faded face

you remember things
hoping to discover why
but you’re lost now
a child scrawling
outside the lines
tattered treasure maps
coloured carelessly

you discover things
trying to understand why
but the ground gives
a slip and slide
a wet playground
you used to come to
now it’s long shut down

you understand things
hoping now that satisfies
but the sound cracks
broken speakers
the music distorts
you can’t even talk
a wall of pink noise

you hope things
remembering how you tried
but these walls, wild
ever shifting
to the next scene
of this lifelike dream
are now closing in


August 2016 Derek Wilson

Was orbiting

•March 12, 2016 • Leave a Comment

I told her that I was a satellite
But was falling from the darkened sky
She grabbed me by the collar
And pressed her words into my ear
She sounded like a deceiver
Though I desperately wanted to believe her

Then she asked what I was thinking about
Radar locked, she has my position
I told her I thought only a young man could write
A song like “All you need is love”

She looked at me like I was alien
A moon to modern thinking
Pushing my glass a little closer
She said, “Sure mate, just keep drinking”

March 2016 Derek Wilson


•March 10, 2016 • Leave a Comment

King Street
 Thursday night
It’s early
 A girl walks by
She smells like…
 times gone by
You panic
Then play on
Whifts become drafts
 and scents of songs
Five thousands steps
 and then plus some
Flinders Street
 Still Thursday night
  but a little more
The people past
 walking through doors
…Out the same way
What to do tonight?
But restitch names
 to faces and name
  your poison

March 2016 Derek Wilson

Sound waves

•April 9, 2015 • Leave a Comment

I write your name in the air
With my hands
To occupy them
Because they are not occupied
By you, right now
And are restless

I whisper you name in the night
To the moon
With my lips
Because they are not upon
Your own, right now
And are naked

I read your name on the screen
With my eyes
To rest them
Because they are tired of not
Seeing you, right now
And are seeking

I hear your name play along
To these songs
With my ears
Because they are not near you
But listening, right now
And hear music

April 2015 Derek Wilson


•March 16, 2015 • Leave a Comment

She hangs her head, tears spill down
Curious, weird, not hitting the ground
But caught by the air and flown away
It’s windy today, a little too cold
She shivers
If only it were only
The weather
The comfort I offer is also cold it seems
Shivering wet from its own tears

“You know how when you’re trying to avoid something?
Telling yourself ‘I must steer clear of that’ –
It ends up kind of making you do it”
Says the barber, scissors snapping in the air.

I walk out down Bond St.
The business end of the
Monopoly board
Trying to buy a hotel
Should have tucked my empty pockets in
They saw me coming
And were snickering

If I had a million dollars
For every one of those tears…
If I I knew how to drive
Or at least, how to steer
“Can you spare a dollar, mister?”
Sorry mate, not today
A blanket, a bottle
If I knew how to trust
If I knew how to beg
Or at least, how to busk…

March 2015 Derek Wilson