The stream (all workshops)
I should not have, but I did
I peeked beyond the dust bunnies
And I saw what was hidden there
Indeed a monster is underneath my bed
A big mound of something or another
With vacant eyes that have witnessed fears
Sheltered and seemingly scared himself
As I shone light to catch a better glimpse
It was he that scurried to the other side
I want it to come from under there
I want it to go long away
I mustered up the courage
to coax it with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich
A blue bonneted bandicoot with a sea calf,
In Maypole Month,
Dance amongst major malapropisms,
And skip along in blank verse.
Their ventures among word confections would present
An object lesson in despair for befuddled students of the Classics.
When the news is sad and the views are grim
Enoughs enough long time had, just feel so full to the brim
Me daily dose of exercise, me decision swiping thumb
Who is right and who is wrong, all on a screen five inches long
We keep scrolling scrolling yeah…
Me mouth is shut and me conscience is numb
When me fingers are doin the talking, with the army bunch of dumbs
It’s their mess it’s their distress, doesn’t bother me take no stress
Not me kin not me pals, I needn’t cry if fall not me walls
We keep fooling fooling yeah…
I'm not a puzzle
to be solved
though you may question my resolve.
My story is mine
and cannot be sold
just don't believe
all you're told.
In time,all will be revealed
closure comes
and all is sealed.
Held inside
out of sight
in a vault
that's vast and wide.
Do not look inside my mind
there are no secrets to be found
though you may look
all around
the trick you see
is let it be
for life is just a mystery.
It's half past six and I'm starving;
The money's on the side;
I don't want quiche or salad -
I fancy something fried.
Dad will go and get it;
It's tasty, salty, hot:
We don't have to cook it;
You can buy it from the shop.
Good old Dad's back home,
The vinegar smells just great:
We tear open the steaming parcel
And spread the contents on a plate.
Forget your Indian takeaways
Or Chinese with fancy dips;
On Fridays only this will do:
Yummy Fish 'n Chips.
Old age
A time of life
When we complete our goals
Feeling wanted and full of love
Mature
I’m greeted by my faithful chair
With its leather arms, wide open
I awaken the kettle, to get myself settled
Fetch a book, and ignite the fire
I dare to intrude, on my puppy dog’s snooze
And am gifted a look that is joy
Nestled up on his bed, not a care in the world
We savour the peace, as he lays with his toy
The fire’s desire, to amuse and distract
Is apparent to all in the room
It embraces the faces, from the dog to the clock
That are gripped by the power it has
Entering through resplendent gates,
to where countless dead seek final rest,
and those alive muse the touch of soil:
Where commemorating stones are monumental;
a reminder to all creatures that waste away
in vessels that perish beneath a hundred years.
Where manicured gardens court Repose
whose silence disturbed by a lazy breeze
interrupts one's meditation.
I feel as though my mouth is always sown shut...
or, maybe it's that I lack the capacity to speak.
Either way, I find myself easily overlooked and ignored.
I'm far too tired to change.
I'll just stay silent.
What is it you see when you stare at me?
Are you trembling with fear?
Overwhelmed by my grotesque image
Gasping for air, And can not look away?
What in my eyes do you see?
Fleshless yet hungry
Soulless but hellish
Unforgiven and cold blooded
Approach or run
You think you have a choice,
Like A shark I smell blood
through the tiniest of vein.
Madness will thrive and reign
Inside the burning of these eyes
Flickers every horror you can conjure.
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