In jest, we call them 'creatures of the night'. In truth, we've never seen them by the light Of broken day, unless the rat called Bernard Counts! Perhaps great hordes of badgers, foxes, Mice & Muntjac deer convene outside The staffroom door when we have gone away? Well, maybe not, in fact! Besides, it's dark… Continue reading Random Thoughts on Creatures
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Glasses: A True Story, or The Truth at Last?
I lost my glasses, falling over drunk One night, with no idea just where. 'd thought I'd see things clearly, even in the dark? Not so, it seems! To miss the fucking mark Is far-more easy really than it ought To be when stone-cold sober's done a bunk! But, now it makes me think, what… Continue reading Glasses: A True Story, or The Truth at Last?
Anti-Sestina: Abstractions
Bizarre, it is, how all things change! This life, At once so sturdy & quite certain, death Creeps up on, woos & marries; just so love, In ignorant youth, pursues at first what hate Will make it shun in age; & total war, Its shock & awe, preferred to partial peace? Yes, ploughshares turned to… Continue reading Anti-Sestina: Abstractions
Autumnnesque
Heraclitus, Plato, Lucretius, Plotinus, all The Ancients, sage or pleb, were right & knew it: The Unmoved Mover cares not how we live Within a world of ever-changing seasons, Lands of loss & gain, & growth, decay And death, this flux of swerving atoms fit For rocks & stones & trees, yet not the reasons… Continue reading Autumnnesque
I, Alien
The creepy crawlies, slugs & snails & flies, Kittens, hamsters, elephants, any amount Of creatures not quite bright nor even beautiful, Now have got it made! They've come to count On human love & sanctuary's prize; Be saved, fit in with us, wild pride be damned; Just be a beast in need, an helpless animal!… Continue reading I, Alien
My Latest, But Not My Last, Will Testament
At or on, around or after my Decease, destroy all things I leave behind? I have no wish to be so falsely kind That charity gets my haul of books & toys, Crap clothes, nor cash? No family has its claim On anything of mine, I think? The noise Of IOU & debt or credit?… Continue reading My Latest, But Not My Last, Will Testament
Anostalgia
Gnawing on the putrid skin & bones Of long-since passed, more-fleshly zones of pleasure, The mind convicts itself of riches lost And present poverty's poor attempts to measure Up to change & ageing. So, it hones The rosy-tinted visions of the greener Grass of golden youth to melt the frost And snows it suffers daily… Continue reading Anostalgia
Anataraxia
When young, you feel immortal- you are not-, And what you think or know, believe or are Is quite beside the point of having fun, You chase & squeeze emotions' moments far Too far for good or bad; you've really got To make things last, the laughing, crying, one- And-only chance & shot at life,… Continue reading Anataraxia
Absurdia
A vast, unwieldy, seamless thing of things, Amorphous, morphing back into itself, Without a start or finish, beginning, end Or middle ground to tell just where we stand, Or find a reason when none can exist; For, even sober, it's as though we're pissed, And in a foreign country, not our land Of birth, where… Continue reading Absurdia
C21 Nostalgia
No more gentle melancholy, thoughts Of good old days & times long gone, nor how Such idle, vain, habitual traits could rule The human mind? When we live is now, And never in the past or future. Oughts, Likewise, & should bes must be binned. A fool Gets sooner rich by parting with his cash,… Continue reading C21 Nostalgia
A Wonderful Life
An optimist would state 'lt's not that bad!' A pessimist, 'Yes, it is...& worse!' The middle Ground itself is blurred by dark & light And indeterminable shades of grey, with little In clear focus to enjoy, be sad Or certain on; the true & false, the right And wrong, an hideous mess of random chance… Continue reading A Wonderful Life
‘What vision can we have… ?’
What vision can we have, what purpose, goal Or aim can we achieve when, all through life, Half-blind & stumbling day-to-day in droll Impersonations of ourselves- in strife Too much to see the narrow strait that leads Directly to the grave from cradle via Satisfaction of far-simpler needs Than we invent or think we should… Continue reading ‘What vision can we have… ?’