there is a monastary
in the woods
no one lives there

the forest had obliterated the sky
and as if "no sky" meant "no God",
all the monks fled.

running to the churches and
cathedrals of the city,
only to find themselves skyless again,

they ran to the desert where it all began,
and finally learned
..."too much sky can be oppressive to Man"....

sunsets come while Earth spins
Sun just flies through space

Earth and Sun have a romance
in progress --

terra firma orbits round
its bright star lover in heavenly ballet

affectionately -- rightly so
without her there would nothing be --

no flowers, wheat, squirrels, bats, sleeping babies, trees, flowing rivers, oceans, sand, tomatoes, fog or clouds, rain, pine needles, sheep or wool for sweaters, cattle, hogs or chickens, certainly no eggs of any kind . . . or leaves changing from green to shades of death colours in the fall

I was an obnoxious bitch,
a malignant witch,
to ever treat you so.

Dearest friend,
I'm with you till the end,
our relationship rules,

Forgive and forget,
please don't poor scorn on,
my regret.

A pal and a mate,
our interaction is so great.
Please don't hate me.

I remember way, way back then
when first I saw television.
So Dad could judge its worth-while
one was brought to our house for a trial
by the man from Retravision.

He set it up on the back veranda
the better to be able
to run to the aerial on his truck parked outside
the thick, long extension cable.
The neighbours had all been invited
for the free viewing and showing
of the newest wonder money could buy
and the reception they could be expecting
if thinking perhaps the technology to try.

The cracks of longing
and the tears of goodbye

The pain of losing
and the need not to cry

The realisation of loss great enough
to make you want to die

The dumbing down of knowing
that love has passed you by...

BB 5 November, '10

TITLE TAKEN FROM A SONG BY TOTO

How selfish I must be at heart,
and claiming such is just the start,
for cowardly would fit me too.
I'm not the man you thought you knew.

We're both now coming of an age
that's like act three on our life's stage.
Our middle years are passing fast
with autumn coming near at last.

Our passion's not urgent or bright
as it was on our wedding night
but it's still more than just a spark
or memory on which we hark.

The hushed hour before dawn
Pastel-pink wash on a sky of robin-egg blue
Just for me

Blackbirds wired like notes in a song
Silhouetted on lamb's-white wall

Radio soft-rock
Girls just wanta have fun
The donut-girl going to work

Neon come on's blink breakfast
Cigarette and coffee in the church parking-lot
Too early for God

Murmers of male voices behind dispatch blare
Buy a car they say
Fly United [heh heh]
Time shares for sale

And I write ...

.
I am settled in mind
of death and taxes,
politics,poverty,
and social status

a philosophical bent
has lent a helping hand
resolving these quaint issues
I know where I stand

but mess with my computer
without my consent
I go lunatic crazy
with only one way to vent

bitching and whining
like a spoiled brat
why oh why
do you keep doing that?

half a day wasted
to get it back in order
the other half spent in
recriminations spat toward her

you, the blank page

I have seen you before.
you are the taunt to my titillation

never-ending white

I shall cover you with scrawl
until you are covered --

some of it may even be good
scrawl

underneath it all, you are still
blemishless

you, the blank page --
I do love you so

never do you complain --
even when I am vile

at anything I say
you never blink your albino eyes

quintessence of patience
you are

to be so kind to one
so unworthy of your pureness

The Child I once was and knew so well
Has faded into a hardened shell

I won and lost a battle here and there
But yet, the war it rages everywhere

My wisdom do earn, and then over rate it
And yet, still others will debate it

Faithful trust, just turned into dust
Life was de-veined, derailed, just a bust

I must, I must, I must
Postponed and deflated

Under rated 'twas some other's fate
I entered into life; a little less, then late