I have lived in your Life — once before —
A whisper — through your Door —
A Shadow bent upon the Chair —
That was — and is — not There.
I knew your Breath — before your Mouth —
I touched the Sun — by going South —
And in your Gaze — a Window shone —
To prove — what I had always known.
The Years — cannot divide the Thread —
Nor Silence — hide the Words — unsaid —
The Pulse remembers — though the Vein —
Denies the Music — once again.
I have Lived — in your Life — before —
I will — when Time admits — once more —
Beyond the Grave — or Clouded Door —
Eternity — repeats the Score.
As I was headed home, a squirrel
Passed me going south.
I noticed him because he had
An acorn in his mouth.
Since winter’s not approaching,
I am curious to know
If squirrels still amass a stash
For when supplies run low.
Or was that nut for dinner
From his daily market run?
Or a late addition to a meal
His family’d just begun?
I have no way to ascertain
What’s stored within his nest
So, like many other mysteries,
I’ll give this one a rest.
She was a sweet child born in Soyhern Texas
Some time in 73
Her Moma was from Alabama
Her Poppy from New Orleans
A cheerleader and local beauty at 17
Some folk say around here
She was the prettiest girl they'd ever seen
And she knew it
And with a smile and a certain look
She could get anything
She'd need
And she played it by the book
Could drink anyone under the table
When the cowboys rode into town
Soon she grew and padded filling
Her curvey body
in her midriff blouse
And tight blue jeans
Long blonde hair
And a cowboy hat and boots
Boys would follow her everywhere
A cowgirl at heart
Country music in her blood
Sang like an angel
Played the guitar like nobody else could
Well she got too big for her boots
And her hat
Could do anything she'd please
Had the most amazing body
Man and boy would have loved to touch
And boy did she tease
She thought she could hang on to
Her body and good looks
Without a doubt
But she got older
Everyone moved West
But she was going south.
It’s not that her full breasts
were both going South,
but they were also going
East and West.
Nevertheless
I loved them both,
equally.
I wish they made tiny earmuffs.
They never stop
Dawn to dusk
Chirping, cheeping, cawing,
Chattering in the hedges.
I root for the cat.
Not often
But on occasion
Y’know….just
Get that one.
Hey I chirp now and then
Get a bit over eager
At the feeder
Peck at an over eager squirrel.
It is called a “BIRD” feeder bozo.
It’s getting’ colder
They’re all keyed up
Going south.
I may just stay here
Nest near the dryer vent
Hope they toss out a slice of bread
Whole wheat is ok
Maybe a fistful of seed.
I hope they leave soon
I may read a book
Quietly
Subtle, very subtle, yet the promise whispers in the trees.
The zinnias struggle with a push one last bud to sky unfurl,
While the neighbor's cat goes on the prowl for one more kill to squeeze.
Late September days will end and the unprepared imperil.
The strident cries heard in the sky are the sounds of birds going south.
Though crammed and touching wings at times, they fly with great effusion.
A squirrel hordes some nuts he's found by stuffing them in his mouth,
While looking for a ready den, the mice run in confusion.
The slowly, shortening days are the sun's bowing to appease
The tired flora/fauna pact that's desperate for a long rest,
But a softened whisper in the wind has changed to a cold breeze,
And ice and snow begin to form on the tallest mountain crest.
It was during the summer of 1974,
That three states came beckoning me.
One state pointed North; the other East.
The third state was directing me South.
One was 95 miles away; one was 790 miles;
And the last one beckoning me was 608 miles.
I paced the floor and prayed for divine guidance.
I considered the closest one, but still said, "no".
To the farthest one, I quickly said, "Thanks, but no".
Although I was not like Jonah because to me, God never
said, "Go". However, looking back, I must confess that,
Even in prayer, I was closed-minded about a big Eastern state.
Although I said "No" to the Northern state, I later had serious
second thoughts regarding that Northern state. And I must also confess
that I never reconsidered the Eastern state. In my personal experience,
and as I understand Christianity and the workings of The Holy Spirit;
Even With divine guidance, the human spirit is still involved. And in the
case of one imperfect like myself, going South was a real venture in faith.
I said yes to the Southern state that beckoned me, and God was well pleased.
091823PS
When the time comes,
When all is calm,
Where peace is achieved,
And all can just live,
As my bullets runs out,
And all is going south,
With another hit I'll drop,
In the battlefield I'll die proud,
If that happens, don't cry,
Just look up to the sky,
Smile and say goodbye,
Because an honorable death is how I want to die.
(Response to And Still I Rise by Maya Angelou)
Refusing to ever descend after
My mother, grandmother, great grandmother
Have all endured broken wings
To ensure that I would one day be able to catch wind
I rise
Because Maya said so
Explaining to me my existence
Is never burden
Not curse
No, I am heavenly
Her voice like gospel
And I will always respond to good news
I rise
Because I was birthed from dead flames
So you’re damn right I’ve been through hell
I rise
Because too many
Will find satisfaction in my downfall
I’ve been hunted like duck season
Aiming at my every move, so yes
They will be upset when I make it out alive
I rise
Cuz I know no other direction
Built into me like going south for winter
Internal compass passed down
Through North Star guidance
This is instinct
There is nowhere to go but
Up
As a follower, I am devout,
But my diet is still going South!
I weigh up the cheese,
A little less, please;
Chop it off; put that bit in my mouth.
Putins botched invasion is going south
I think NATO should give him a way out
Chocolates stuffed with TNT
And then set off remotely
As he stuffs them in his fat evil mouth...
Be music to our ears to hear him scream
But sometimes in life things aren't what they seem
I came to with loud beeping
Was woken from my sleeping
And sadly it turned out to be a dream...
Written on 10th December 2022
Grannies pastry shop has seen good years
I still remember running errands as a kid
I even got my first kiss by that old chummy block
As I jumped out pretending I was going out for air
But now it's time to let it all go
We celebrated our birthdays here with the staff
Everyone felt like fahm, everyone loved it here
For it was by the silent street down that road
Across the sea with calming breeze
But now the breeze is blowing the door, time to close up
We've got so many fond memories here
To everyone this is a big blow
And though we had it coming for sometime now
We hoped granny could jump back on her feet,
to whoop some of those delicious treats
And no one seemed to have learnt from her
Cause since she went home things kept going south
Till the time we could hardly keep up with the payments
We've been in the red for a while, but now it's beeping
It's on it's last breathes before it's all out
The PO£T
The morning air is cooler
At noon it gets warmer
Its how the days begins
Now it is a change
Of seasons
Although summer weather
Is still with us awhile
We must enjoy it
It will no last long
Cool temperatures come
Some trees have leaves
Soon more trees will change
Then when the colors change
The leaves will begin falling
Until the trees are bare
Our hot summers
Lack of the rainfall
Made the grass brown
Then the rain will pour
Brown grass will be green
The geese will honk flying
Saying good bye for summer
For me it is a sad
To watch birds flying
Going south for warmth
Spring Whimsy
winter packs his trunk
full of icy fleece and flakes ~
going south for spring
spring unpacks her bags
rolls out green hills with poppies ~
mustard carpets glens
vernal daylight sighs
sheds a winter overcoat ~
nature somersaults
sassy daffodils
troubadours of the season ~
in the midst of snow
snowdrops and tulips
mingle with playful raindrops ~
hummingbirds return
spring teases tree buds
tickles robins and the wrens ~
jokes in cheeky fun
loons and larks arrive
mistral songs fill flaxen fields ~
forests swing and sway
coy clouds gather in
flirt with flashing thunderbolts ~
birds watch from warm nests
rain tumbles through skies
plays hide and seek with thunder ~
feisty blue bells stand
waxing springtime moon
paints rose petals platinum ~
neon night aglow
impish morning sun
winks at fields of red clover ~
spring born of whimsy
3-30-22
Contest: A Brian Strand Premiere Choice
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Vacant mind filled with vacuous thoughts,
he is diabolical,makes me disconcerting.
Many a time we have fought a lot,
when things were going south,
on his terms I took the roundabout.
Going circles I never realized,
he led me on a rabbit trail,
I made it far, escaped the static, ecstatic,
but he left me at a place no one's ever tread.
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