Tag Archives: poetry

The Self

Often thinks about the ending.
Impoverished soul. Why so?
Brain sees itself as a walnut.
Exactly that size and that texture.
Ripe now, and dried.
if opened, you’d find
compartments still true to the model.
One or two infected with mould,
causing cross-wired circuits
and blameless mistakes (it thinks).
But the black box is still intact,
the pilot still in charge.
Holding tightly, with left arm,
the Artist.
All else matters not,
but a true imitation’s a must.

Image credit to:  http://www.drsyrasderksen.com/blog/seeing-narcissism-in-the-brain#sthash.DPwSw5vl.dpbs

 

A Cuckoo clock Christmas

I brought you a present
‘Twas an old cuckoo clock
From a second-hand store in the city

On its top was a pheasant
And it said “Tick-a-Tock”
So I thought you would think it looked pretty

It had pendants and chimes,
An old man and his wife
That hourly came to do chores

They would go through their mimes
As if that was their life
And I smilingly thought “Mine and Yours”

She would churn up the butter,
He’d be chopping the wood
‘Twas a wonder they both had the breath

And the pheasant would stutter
“Tick-a-Tock”, as it would
While they worked themselves half to their death

You and I, in our lives,
Have been like those two peasants
Reliably being on time

Now the day, it arrives,
That is meant to give presents,
And so I have spent my last dime.

Homeward I travel
Just thinking of you
But there’s only a handwritten note

I try to unravel
To find but a clue
In the words that you hastily wrote

There was no premonition
‘Nor change in condition
To explain why you’d broken your vow

A clockwork cuckoo
And a dusty brown shoe
Are all I have left of you now

Young man, old man

In February’s frozen spring
I came across a curious thing-
a solitary sapling in the sun.

It looked as if ’twere shivering,
with papered leaves a-quivering,
and the wind imparted voices to each one.

I thought its spindly arms were bare
until I heard the chattering there
and spied the little curlicues of brown.

And thought- so many made it through
the winter’s blast, the icy blue,
and held on fast to make their chittering sound

Crazy crazy

I was combing the cat’s hair
he smiled
but the hair began to come off in clumps
soon all there was was skin
and his eye fell out

I had a lemonade stand
on a deserted dusty desert road
a camel rider came by
dismounted and gave me a cactus
I gave him lemonade
and the camel too
once I had the cactus more customers came
but they all brought cactus

at night, I was driving a bumper car
in a closed courtyard
buildings all ’round
my electric pole was connected
to the thunderclouds
I couldn’t get out
so I waited for the lightning

in a waiting room
for military service
we were all shaved
the guy next to me
had very bad jitters
and I had sudden pain in the groin
he pulled out a syringe
looked me in the eye
I nodded yes
and then there was a bad smell

a thing with insect eyes
stood at a lectern
while I was chained to the tree in front of him
the eyes were judging
as it looked at its book then back to me
I hoped for its disapproval
’cause I did not want to go where it was going

under the sea I moved, with gills
fat smiling lips
and lidless eyes
I thought myself King of the coral reef
until a fella with eight arms
begged to differ.

Barricades

I dreamt this morn’ of fences
They’d been put up while I slept
But the fog obscured my senses
And I stumbled ’til I wept

The urge was strong for going on
So I got up and I leapt
O’er barb-ed wire, until the dawn
Its promises had kept

The fog had burnt away from there
The barricades were clear
The wind was passing through my hair
And freedom was so near

“Awake me not”, I prayed to One.
(The Spirit in me now)
“I’m almost there, I’m nearly done”
Then lost the will, somehow.

This thing within my soul has made
The devil grin with glee
He’s scripted well this whole charade
To gloat his victory

Awakened was a new resolve
That I’d not lose the fight
The clock, its circle would revolve
And I’d join the dream next night

No rest for the wicked

now I lay me down to sleep
there’s no more noises, not a peep
the shades are pulled, the light is out
and slumber’s what it’s all about

fluff the pillow, warm the feet
Sin’s solicitations meet
mantras said to calm the mind
gently will the stress unwind

in five or ten or twenty three
‘Tis the latter, I gotta pee
back in bed and pull the cover
then read a book, my secret lover

start to yawn, and eyelids droop
but I’m hungry for a bowl of soup
hit the kitchen, scratch my head
the wife is bitchin’, “go to bed!”

so once again I scratch my noggin
think of more ideas for bloggin’
get the tablet, write the story
and then I’ll never have to worry

so now it’s finished, nicely done
I’m sure it will be number one
Martians and a teenage girl
whose empathy may save the world

I check the clock, my God it’s three!
whatever has come over me?
I’ve gotta drive the wife to work
(So, better get to sleep. You jerk)

Salt Sea Calm

I heard that they will float you
In a sea of Epsom Salt
To ease away your tension
And things that aren’t your fault

You’re naked, with a blindfold
The water is just right
Then the doctors mention
“Do not put up a fight”.

“We’ll use you as a guinea pig
To get our readings true.
They will defy convention,
And we’ll be famous, too!”

At last you’re disconnected
From all that you can sense.
Your body’s forced attention
Is now in the past tense.

It’s only mind and ego
And the longer that you stay
You’re calmed by this invention
All troubles melt away.

picture credit to:  https://floathouse.ca/blog-archive/float-tanks-within-cognitive-science

 

 

More cat trouble

just outside my bedroom door
that little beggar waits
it’s finished all the bowls of food
and licked the empty plates

it’s pigeon-toed and cross-eyed
a ghastly sight to see
belly drags upon the floor
and a gaze that’s fixed on me

I think it has a pocket watch
(it always knows the time)
and sidles to my bedroom door
upon the stroke of nine

anticipation’s in its eye
(the left one, so I think)
the right one sends the signals out
and neither one will blink

and so I rise, attempting to
ignore its nagging yip
I walk on past, it catches up
and tries to make me trip

every day I lose the fight
the wife, she thinks it’s funny
I think I’ll help it pack its bags
and give it bus fare money

she says we can’t have company
no more, ’cause it’s no use
if someone sees it, we’ll be charged
with animal abuse.

 

 

 

In a fix, in a pickle, in a stew

Captain Miller and his boys
Heard the lookout cry ahoy!
As they ran aground upon the bar of sand

And their hardy ship was broken
And their gunpowder was soakin’
And the situation soon got out of hand
When the storm had cast the crew upon this land

”Twas just a little island
But he warned them all Be silent
He was wary for the safety of his crew

So they brought what they could carry
And he told them not to tarry
And bring those guns and ammunition too
Or we’ll wind up in a pickle and a stew

Now, the natives, they were tribal
And they’d never seen the Bible
And they cared not but a fig for being kind

And they smelled the blood of others
Who were surely not their brothers
And they crept upon the crewmen from behind
With culinary motives on their mind

So they had them all surrounded
And upon their prey they bounded
They were silent, and they blended with the night

And the sailors were defeated,
Of their guns and ammo cheated,
And they couldn’t even offer up a fight
They were dragged away, before the morning light

Now, the tribal men were hungry
All they had was fruit and sundry
And the puny fish they caught within their net

And the coals, they were a-raking
Getting ready for the baking
Of the biggest catch they’d captured, as of yet
And the sailors, they were humbled with regret

Now the Chief, he started dreaming
Of the roasting and the steaming
And the savory delights they would enjoy

And the slaughter would be gruesome
And the barbeque so toothsome
A rotisserie of spits they would employ
And the sailors’ sorry ship they would destroy

Now, the Captain, he was cunning
And his mind had started running
To a way they might this tragedy undo

How to rescue all his crewmen
From these natives so inhuman
And find their guns and ammunition too
And free them from this Pickle, and this Stew.