Pull this one.Alas! The misuse of modern technology.'Hi! Our records indicate that you qualifyFor a new boiler under a Government scheme'Beware of geeks bearing gifts.
Tedium or Te DeumThe days pass by so quickly now,Not much time to do anything.The dustbin men come and go,Brown bin this week, green one next,The window cleaner's here again,I'm sure he came only last week.Those kids should be back in school now.Hey up! That postman's late today.Is this how life is measured now?As Eliza Doolittle might have said:'What me? Not bloody likely!'Not if I've anything to do with it.
Sleepy Summer EveningLate swallows swoop and pipistrelles skitterTo and fro across the house, skimming the eaves.Against a soft darkening sky streaked with redGulls return to the bosom of mother sea.The smell of grass rises sweet on the damp air.While daisies quietly close their eyes in sleepThe blackbird sweetly sings a lullabyAnd I to bed until his reveille.
The school PromThe school prom, a spectacle of colour,Froth, finery, silks and tuxedos.Meanwhile, the wistful waif from the sweatshopPressed her ghostly nose against the glass,Looked in to see the undreamed happinessShe had enabled on six pence a day.
The GardenAs I walk down the garden blackbirds sing,A garden that is layer upon layerOf blackbirds, year after year after yearGiving me such permanence of pleasure.I see the robin who sings all seasons,Smell the roses and the honeysuckle.But most often I see you, in my mind,Playing hopscotch on the path. Sweet memory.
Haikus from OblivionWhat will remain of me? On the altar of death where I lost everything, cold doesn't affect me anymore -My cigarette dies firstQue restera-t-il de moi ?Sur l'autel de la mort où j'ai tout perdu, le froid ne m'atteint plus -Ma cigarette meurt la premièreDressed in blackUnder the dew I stare at the sky filled with birdsWhere my husband is flyingHabillée de noirJe contemple sous la rosée le ciel rempli d'oiseauxLà où mon mari vole Desire to return to oblivion -Near the river, the white sound of snow dispels these wicked thoughtsAnd my life takes overEnvies de retour à l'oubli -Près du fleuve, le bruit blanc de la neige chasse ces vilaines penséesEt ma vie reprend son cours
behind a thin veildevils and angelswatching the ways of the worldpowerful beingsconstrained by expectationsand by their innate natureshow they must wonderat man's mutabilitysuch wild strange creaturestangled in passion and timewhatever was god thinkingthis tired world goes onwith guidance or without itdevils and angelsfinding it more difficultto even pretend to care
Giftblown-glass paperweighta planet held in my palmmy own little world
Viewpointflea-bitten felinescratching a living out backgrungy pest to somethrough my window’s grimy glasshe’s perceived as free to me
*Rain*Rain and wind conspiredAutumn showed a spiteful faceSoaked and blown alongUmbrella inside outWeary, sorry for myself.Delice194119.10.14
The Train is ComingDown at the station,Waiting for the final train.People come and go,Their baggage on the platformSome prefer to travel light.[a spark from coraajna ]
062. Irregular OrbitYes maybe and no,Your irregular orbitTakes you high and low!
measuring the timenight or nearly solight and darkness balancingthe scales are tipping
transient momentdistant ice and firerippled mirror reflectingthe moment soon gone
Palaeothic Art The mind in the cave At Altamira Paints rock face red with ochred Bison, horse, lion, Megafauna come to life. Yet in one corner The tiny stencilled hand print Says 'Kilroy was here'.