The lighthouse
alone on the hill
just a tree at its side
its beacon
that light
It casts a long light
in a long blink
and then it's gone
in a spin
to mark the shore within
It sits on its own island
only accessible on low tide
the path a bridge
mercurial moat that hides it
The building is lit at night
as well as its beam
presenting an eerie glow
In the fog it seems
Almost haunted
romantic
so substantial
It's survived tsunamis
wrapped around its base
which left no trace
as they ravaged inland
A sight to see
A hike I intend to aspire
up those circular stairs
to peer out through that light tower
The lighthouse at Battery Point, Crescent City, CA
Gunner
What has woken you, Gunner? What is it you hear?
Can you sense the beat of heavy engines drawing near?
There’s been no alert, Gunner, the lads are all at ease.
But you know something’s up, don’t you? Won’t you tell us please?
I heard that little growl, Gunner, low and in your chest.
Is the time right now, Gunner? Should we end our rest?
You’re straining at the sky now Gunner. What is it you see?
A skein of passing geese, or our dreaded enemy?
I see your hackles raised Gunner, it’s time to ring the bell.
The other guns will follow suit, they trust your instincts well.
The crews are all closed up, Gunner, before the siren’s wail,
We all know you were right from the twitching of your tail.
There they are above, Gunner, just like your growl predicted,
And thanks to you, we’ve limited the damage they’ve inflicted.
The enemy has fled, Gunner, they’ve turned around and run.
Now go and get your well-earned rest, underneath our gun.
Like currents pulsing through the veins of time/
A dance of opposites so grand, so prime/
Light and shadow, day and night,
One cannot live without the other's might/
Like a battery charged with two-fold grace/
Positive hums, negative keeps pace/
Push and pull, give and take/
A cosmic rhythm none can break/
In forces unseen, in whispers divine/
God's glow, the darkness aligns/
Not in war, but in perfect decree/
A balance ordained so life may be/
We stand at the fulcrum, swayed by tide/
Yet neither force may we deride/
For love needs loss, and joy knows pain/
Sunrise must follow night's refrain/
Electric souls, tethered tight/
Charged by struggle, bathed in light/
Each spark a lesson, each burn a brand/
Forged in contrast, we understand/
So, fear not the dark, nor curse the bright/
Both must exist to give us sight/
For without the push, without the strain/
Life stands still, a hollow plane/
Let the circuit hum, let the current fly/
Embrace the balance, question why/
In paradox we thrive, in conflict we grow/
Energy flows where wisdom knows/
My battery is running out.
Does anyone have a charger lying about?
I would be lying.
If I said I wasn’t spying.
A charger on that chair.
I bet it’s something they could spare…
My laptop won’t make it much longer.
I need to hurry and charge her!
So I borrow the charger and plug it in.
I hope they don’t come back and see this sin.
But then, there seems to be smoke rising up…
Is that from my laptop?
There seems to be an issue with my laptop shaking.
And the fire my laptop is making.
I grab a fire extinguisher and start to spray.
The library remembers the incident, to this day.
When I caused a fire and a scene.
And asked “what do you mean?”
I guess I used a bad cord.
A new laptop, I’ll need to afford.
Just because my battery was running out.
But now, I have more to worry about.
The firefighters have left.
I am a little bereft.
And more than a little ashamed.
Using a bad charger that shall not be named.
But what can I say?
I had an essay.
Now my laptop is a broken eye sore.
And the library has banned me once more.
My battery is 2%
At the end of the day
My life is expiring
With too much to say
Incomplete thoughts
Kind words set for friends
Inexplicable feelings..
Is this where it ends?
The red lamps are blinking
My head starts to race
And my fingers are tapping
All my thoughts at a pace
What words do I choose?
Nothing flashy or new
In the essence of time:
My lovely, it's you
It's a constant connection
No matter how late
Or if words arrive slowly
Or those blinks terminate
You should never forget me
Whether grumpy or phased
It's a simple "I love you"
Just before I'm erased
I will miss us just chatting
Or those texts that you sent
So seems I'm no longer
One hundred percent
Jinjagoliath
15th July 2023
After a week of treatment, a pill each day, combined with messages “ you have completely humiliated me and made me look an idiot in front of a whole lot of people, inside and outside of work.”
Love is only remembering. Texts within my journal, interpolating old words which are plain and simple. These are vague reminders that there’s nothing in your life.
Next day after nothingness, she’s saying “can’t you recognise? That I’m sensitive!”, “stop telling me stuff that reinforces it”, “it’s not making a positive difference”, “Thanks for telling me this”.
Love is only a future memory which includes someone else. More messages “are you drunk, drunk? I ask”,” are you drinking”, her final reply is “go figure it out”.
Making you feel unimportant or blamed is worse than any rejection even lower than rejecting yourself.
Another text message states, “I don’t want a relationship with someone, who that cant recognises when they call someone nasty”. The day after the next she calls me a "
I hold it quite tattered
To have someone flattered,
All the time, some John mattered:
Such Johns are soon scattered!
Many still call me 'Prof',
Thank God some would just cough,
Saying it in a voice rough
Shows of being The Gruff...
Then failed is flattery
And charged my battery
While I dare mystery
Far from the jittery...
Then, the oft flattered
Is the oft battered.
As the queen of the night,
the lamp blooms
on my study table,
illuminating my thoughts.
In the darkness,
the torch whittles
a way for my vision.
The timepiece teaches me
time can be musical.
Each ticking has a meaning.
My radio catches
a flying voice.
I ruminate nonchalantly
under the eaves of the song.
Everything is enticing,
energized by the battery
that remains inside
like my father.
First published in The Literary Hatchet (issue#28).
Is it dead or broken?
Two batteries, new...
I'm holding a lifeless body
I want... I need this to end
Mom's gift was never for me
This knot will take time to untie
Unless... I untie him myself.
I know I have the strength
But strength is useless when the will is lacking
Why bother when there's the hourglass
Everything is better with this new toy
And this time, I found exactly what I wanted so badly.
LEDs, movement and lullaby.
Stealthy sign in Sky
A ill-born star without branches
And yet the most beautiful star
sitting on a bench at the battery
listening to forgotten free jazz
on the most perfectly created sunny, blue sky day
fliritng with an older lady
watching her figure in a very comforting amazement
focusing back on said free jazz as her husband returns from the bathroom to rejoin her
feeling lonely for a little bit
then the old Chicano soul kicks in
the water recaptures my attention,
and i return to enjoying my wonderful day on a bench at the battery
Screw the rules of engagement.
Focus on target acquisition.
Fix range and bearing.
Estimate windage.
Calculate time on target.
Battery away.
Commence fire.
Volley after volley.
Shot after shot.
Insult after insult.
Snide remark follows snarky jab.
Brutal comeback lands with a jolt.
Gas-lit accusations trip the NBC alarm.
F-bombs. C-words. Total devastation.
Just a typical conversation
Over no man’s land in the family room.
In a time of love and war,
All casualties are blue on blue.
Why does 'Pretty please'
rhyme with 'Nacho Cheese?'
For the same reason, I suppose
that 'Don't dare step on my toes'
rhymes with 'Stop picking your nose'
If you die it is advised to be quiet
It is best to have someone by your side
To touch your hand, to comb your hair
If you have hair it is even better
To have warm socks placed on your feet
By a loved one who will remember you
It is special as you slip into the future
Speaking from experience this is the truth
If you die and you are a robot
It is suggested to arrest your circuitry
Keep a battery of bibles by your side
Keep them alive in hopes of a resurrection
If not, there is always the hope of electric
In the after life of power as suggested
SINOATRIAL NODE
Inside your heart of hearts, I have my cosy residence
I produce funny currents and start my innate cadence
My loyal junior takes over, in case I am a bit sick
Yet he can never match…... the speed of my tick
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