Tuesday, November 27, 2012
GOOD FRIENDS
Took and Tumble are on the road again.
And still they are, the very best of friends.
How they yearn to see their home once more,
and especially their wonderful friends of yore.
Where they've been is a story to tell,
it involves others (of course) as well.
So pull up a chair, and settle right down,
cause, Tookie, and Tumble are coming to town!
Tushie 16/10/12
Monday, November 26, 2012
EYES OF ICE
Ice eyes spit, spark, glitter and glisten,
yet, you see nothing, nor do you listen.
Words choke, on the tip of your torched breath,
and will remain, unspoken, long after your death.
Blond curls fall over your fierce, handsome face,
in old age, there's still the structure, a strong trace,
of the fiery god, you once thought you were,
in spite of the burden you carried for her.
She sneered and snarled into that handsome face,
cursed you for making her barren life, a waste;
said she deserved to be worshipped, deserved better,
than a pitance pay cheque delivered of the postman, by letter.
Years, wars, harm, hurts, came, as they will,
while, her rage and hatred hid neath the guise of one ill.
The toll of resentment ever deepened with time,
she did die, before fruit, would ripen, on the orphaned vine.
Tushie 25/11/12
yet, you see nothing, nor do you listen.
Words choke, on the tip of your torched breath,
and will remain, unspoken, long after your death.
Blond curls fall over your fierce, handsome face,
in old age, there's still the structure, a strong trace,
of the fiery god, you once thought you were,
in spite of the burden you carried for her.
She sneered and snarled into that handsome face,
cursed you for making her barren life, a waste;
said she deserved to be worshipped, deserved better,
than a pitance pay cheque delivered of the postman, by letter.
Years, wars, harm, hurts, came, as they will,
while, her rage and hatred hid neath the guise of one ill.
The toll of resentment ever deepened with time,
she did die, before fruit, would ripen, on the orphaned vine.
Tushie 25/11/12
Saturday, November 24, 2012
AT THE ROUND TABLE
 |
'yours, would be a round table,
for that's a sign of welcome'.
.
How often laughing voices, over this table had rung,
clattering plates, and bright eyes, said more than wagging tongues.
With glinting glasses brimming, children dashing pell mell,
such completeness could not consider, for whom may toll a bell.
What was it I saw lurking, in a corner of that room,
In afternoon sunlight, hiding darkly, casting gloom.
Was it a shadow foretelling, of days to be, now long past?
When tireless children, ran bare foot, on damp greenest grass?
One year our curly willow, withered, why, I'll never know,
but after that everything changed, it was time for us all to go,
into the deeper valley, each on their own path.
But seated, at the round table quietly even now, I hear the echo, of a laugh.
Tushie 25/11/12
FRIENDS
 |
we went to visit the circus.
I'd no money, no cares, not a worry,
apart from a ticket to purchase
Now, what is a child to do,
when left to fend for them self?
There was little chance of entrance,
without contacts, influence, or wealth.
Of course, that was not the case,
so tell me, what was a body to do?
Well, I discovered, I was rich, with friends,
Danny, your pal, paid, with agreement of you.
Tushie 24/11/12
Friday, November 23, 2012
JAGGED JOURNEY
JAGGED JOURNEY
(An experience in a Psychologists Office, maybe, fifteen years ago)
----------------------
'Where are you
now?'
asks
a voice.
'I'm up high
in,
a corner,
of a
room.
hiding,
behind,
a tiny
torn,
brittle,
bit,
of
wallpaper.
The scrap,
scratches,
scrapes,
touches,
the,
white
plaster
ceiling.
And,
here,
I wait,
to be
born.
And
so,
I am
.
Breath,
of Sound
awakens me.
Vibrations,
call me,
to my heart.
My shell
world,
cracks
breaks
shatters
to
pieces.
I flail,
fall,
into
life,
land
on
my
feet,
stay.
stand.
Breath
into being.
Say,
yes,
to
my
life.
To
My
Life
.
Tushie 24/11/12
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