Words North: creative works II

In celebration of Words North, the region’s first writing festival hosted by Peace Liard Regional Arts Council, here are a selection of poems from creative writers who you can find at the festival this weekend - either onstage or in the audience. 


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Water. Women & Water by Helen Knott 


In the bath

I am cognizant of the fact


I am s u r r o u n d e d  by w a t e r

I pray to the waters

I sing to the waters

I weep for the waters

I talk to the rivers, lakes and creeks that I know and that know me

I wish them well

I pray for their continuation

I give thanks for their creation

ask them to show me how to be




I often wonder if I am alone in this act

I like to imagine

Women e v e r y w h e r e  in their homes




for water

that way,


just maybe we stand a chance



Rain Go Away   by Robin Gibson  


Rain is great when it’s ninety above. Refreshing.

Excuse me Mother Nature, if I might appear to be bold.


Back off on the raindrops a bit? They get in my shoes and 

puddles deep enough to swim.


The gutters rage torrents and a cold catches me.

My eyes are watering, nose running to who knows where.


When I was younger it was great fun to splash,

now I’m old and I just get cold. 


Thunder at night keeps me awake, I know.

God’s bowling is nothing but a great fable.


At least it isn’t forty below and rain drops are not snow.

How about it stop? Weatherman says scattered showers.


How about put some blue on your brush and other colours.

Now how about a rainbow?



Sell Me As Smitten by Rob Brown 


Saw your name on a city sidewalk 

starting w/ a dictionary definition written 

right there beside it, while I was down 

on island life; hadn’t seen you in awhile;

makes me send a forgotten message or two.


Inner harbour crowds do sell it short

need to catch her alone w/ a better tone

spend days together, take in city sights.

Someone here it in street art - terrifying now

not to bottle up this and sell it as Smitten;

shoot a pic now so I don’t go drinking

with any different kinda dough-eye soul.

Should walk, talk, and look for the balance

in the now instead of a past we never had. 


New faces borrowed on dwindling time,

already shown taken flights flown still 

playing with house money doesn’t seem 

that altogether that clever; when you 

have emotion, rainy weather all the 

sad projects tend to write themselves.


Suppose we get lost in each other 

remembering the romance of small towns 

neither of us are from, a past we know 

enough to forget but waking too late 

only to find another unexpected tomorrow.


For more information, see https://www.peaceliardarts.org/words-north

© Copyright Dawson Creek Mirror News


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