So nice and sweet to remember
Playing with my younger brother
With mom’s constant reminder
To be a good sibling and sister-
As his older sister, she said
Learn to give way, instead
If his mood turns flaring red
Wait patiently, don’t go to bed.
Hug him and speak softly
Share and show fairness lovingly
Use magic words, act humbly
He’ll definitely follow, learns slowly.
Mom’s teachings were effective
No rivalry, rapport was highly achieved
Siblings’ closeness bloomed, heaved
But he passed away so early, I grieved.
If I disobeyed and remained stubborn
He didn’t enjoy life with me…so forlorn
No strong bonds, fun, travels and so on
No joyful memories with loved ones.
Eeerrrr
Crack,
She whispered,
Eeerrr
Snap,
Crack,
The Man heaved,
Eyes not breaking from the wounded tree.
He choked up His grip,
And slammed His axe into Her core once again.
The Tree gasped,
Eeeerrrr,
And as the Man’s steadfast blow struck Her stern,
She screamed Her last breath.
As She fell,
The Man stared at his prostituted hands,
And then towards his work.
He let out a sigh,
Steadied His grip,
And swung His axe again.
The final minute’s ticked its last
For “60 Minutes”’ time has passed.
A word of warning should suffice –
Its murderer was Bari Weiss.
First Anderson announced he’d leave;
His absence will make many grieve.
Then double axes heaved a chop,
Letting 2 reporters drop.
The Sharyn and Cecilia bust
Removed 2 women I did trust
To tell the stories, blow by blow,
The public has a right to know.
When Ms. Alfonsi spoke her mind
About a cancelled show, she’d find
The bigwigs didn’t like her nerve;
Her canning she did not deserve.
But worst of all was letting go
Scott Pelley, who, as we all know.
Was “60 Minutes”’ heart and soul
And perfect for his starring role.
He pulled no punches and did speak
With well-placed anger; his critique
Cost him his job. Ms. Weiss sure botched
A show we eagerly once watched.
Evil angel why does you run from pain?
Evil angel what is going on again?
Evil angel why do you fear the coin toss.
Evil angel what would happen if you got tossed?
Any outer, stout, pouting white powder,
Could take you to some cloud?
Gimme a break for crying out loud...
Age will bring fables,
Some despise those that lie.
The next page will be stable,
Yet you must still attempt to try,
The force is unbalanced,
But we aren't watching Star Wars,
Sure, you have some talent,
Yet, this next period will draw its sword...
Eve must have heaved, bereaved, while leaving the lot...
A Dom realized the change when,
They both fell fruitless when they got...
Caught up in it,
Sick of it,
Sticking to the ,
That only through the pits,
One forgets,
It is very, very sick,
I quit...
Tick Tok tick
Just for another little bit,
When the world gets twirled around again,
Then sticks to the drip,
When there are no more fits,
While getting lit.
...
My fight with the pencil sharpener was unceremonious and desperate
And afterwards my hands smelt like metal
Torn skin stuck to my sheets
And my pyjamas burned through
I couldn’t get the plasters off the next morning
And my soul heaved with shame
I told you it was a one time thing but by the time I told you that I’d already done it twice
And I planned on it happening again
It began low,
in the damp cellar of the sea,
where star-ash soured into brine.
Alchemic mud heaved upward,
vomited from vents and wounds,
a million drifting scraps of almost-life
black streamers waving
as if testing for breath.
I was there
or something that would become me,
salted and blind,
carried inland with the silt
of forgotten shores.
Angel-hair filaments brushed past
like nerves learning pain,
snowflake cells stumbled and split,
tripped over themselves
in the green dark.
The cauldron churned,
rain-beaten, fever-swollen,
and beneath its scum-slick skin
an eye squinted open,
not knowing what it saw.
The vessel woke.
The universe shuddered,
and the sea rocked itself
as if soothing a crying child,
webbed with light,
heavy with wanting
each of us a note
from that first wet music,
each of us carrying the ocean
in our blood,
remembering, dimly,
it was me.
I dragged this cig, my brain went far gaga,
The same cigarette brand that brought me joy;
A puff, and I slipped into a pooh-Bah,
One short drag became enough to destroy.
My legs wobbled, the world around me spun,
I heaved heavily, yet relief slept still;
The fun I sought had never yet begun,
In its stead, I commenced a mental drill.
As I puffed a new cig to chase a fad,
Deeper curiosity did arouse.
How can a mere cigar torture so bad,
A dream taught me the thought in intense drowse.
Later I learned the cig was laced with crack~
The closest I came being a junkie;
That pal later picked madness in bump's track,
Why I never became a crack flunkey.
The wind rose early with the busying dawn;
And, rushing into the long avenue of beech -
Laid down years ago to accommodate labouring feet -
Began to scatter over neatly cut verge and lawns
With its own inimitable unruly gust, blow and fuss...
Within a cascading maelstrom of vivid bright yellowness.
Against strong trunks, held firm by steadfast roots,
Groans from creaking boughs as they upwardly heaved
Upon frantically thrashing branches showering
rusted, golden leaves;
Carpeting the rough stones below my trampling boots.
A mad kaleidoscope of leaping, swirling, skipping
colour
Where, as a child, I had once rediscovered...
Two green sandstone gate pillars sat well back
That ushered me under this arched, canopied track.
I recall by chance the astuteness of rain
When the thin smoke from charged pulses of cold haze
Befriended the weeded way . . .
Leering further into the viscera of the village,
Clouds of old beginnings heaved potent sighs,
Loud, frenetic and full of powder.
I revelled in the warmth of acid lightning,
Quick to mirror the village in its own image.
The grey breath was intense,
Fusing teethed mirth with grim spheres.
Then came the vitrined harmony of fleeing spectres!
Tricks were revealed.
Tenebrous paths came to light.
And the rumps of sensuous fowls stood stark
Before the reality of weaned souls.
I recall lighting up a cigarette.
Adding to the atmospheric smoke,
I held on to the banter of coyness, flat,
Resolute, and with rummaged blessedness of initial stages
Blending well with the greed of May.
“As day and night, seasons come and go, leaving an afterthought that nothing is permanent in this world. Though life is all impermanence, know, there will be a sunrise after every sunset”-~ By Poet
Away from the crowd, I sat on the seashore
Looking at the setting sun,
Drowning into the indigo depths.
The grey enormity that heaved and swelled in turn,
Warmly received its everyday evening guest.
As I was looking on, breakers rose high,
Crashing over the boulders, making a mournful cry.
My eyes stretched far into the horizon
I watched clouds quickly shapeshifting
And the multi coloured firmament
Changing into a grey monochrome.
As like a python, darkness swallowed the day.
A cycle ending only to begin again!
I stood upon the Great Chinese Wall
and drank a pint of alcohol.
'Twas then I had a thought,
and heaved a heavy sigh.
A bird is happy in the sky
when he spreads his wings to fly.
He is so, is he not?
I saw a bird who could not be caught,
a little avian astronaut.
'Twas then I heard him call.
The inspector said, "how did he die?
It's simple. This wall is high,
but I would ask the question why
he took this foolish fall."
It was a very balmy midsummer night
shadows danced with me under starlight
I heard a nightingale cry out for its mate
in that moment joy fled. I became sedate
My mind swirled with thoughts concealed
with something I no longer wanted revealed
I heard a whispering voice from my past
a fleeting memory recalled that didn't last
I felt the need to capture the recollection
a face, a touch that held tender affection
But much too swiftly the reverie took flight
the memory faded like the haze of twilight
A chill replaced the night's warmth I'd felt
I heaved a mournful sigh then slowly knelt
Another memory lost within a frozen mist
Of being embraced and my lips softly kissed
Flickering moments leave me without a trace
of what used to be. Was it a loved one's face?
Thoughts flutter in my mind, a befuddled place
that's becoming difficult to accept with grace
I've lost threads of my life, as if icebound in time
in silent corners of my mind, no longer in prime
The night has grown cold, my body shivering
lost in the mist of memories shadows, quivering.
He went into the mountain cave
Hoping his life from Jezebel to save
And a great and mighty wind tore in
But the lord was not in the wind.
Then the earth quaked, and the ridges heaved
But still he wasn't sure that he believed.
He feared imminent death, he felt so alone
The solid earth was full of shattering stone
Then a fire ignited, like candles in air
The trees went in flames, and help was not there
He raised a cloak as defense, dropped his sword
But in the fire there was no sign of the Lord.
He feared quick death, so much chaos around
But through the noise he heard a still small sound.
He walked to the entrance, looked out of the cave
After the destruction - what was left to save?
The voice spoke quietly, said "Why are you here? Go return:
The righteous will join you; the tables will turn."
I'm not sure what the story means
Maybe the idea is all is not what it seems
Perhaps it says to keep your perspective
To maintain hope in an ultimate objective.
When you get to the torrent that you must ford
When you are pursued by an unreasoning horde
When you're inclined to stampede with the herd
Take time to think for yourself, listen for his Word.
This is the story
in which I die
and come back to life
I thought it was over
I felt powerless,
purposeless
but I of course discovered
the opposite side of the coin
I gave up, almost
from the highest roof
I’ve had in this city
I could have flung myself
I didn’t do it,
I couldn’t be like he was
Instead I was brave
I called a number
told someone
got help
a three day
suspension
from the real world
can be more helpful
than I knew
every cell in my body
heaved
I swallowed my last breath
learned
to sink into the emotion
deeper and deeper
and deeper I sank,
down through the ice cap
miles thick of the trauma I froze in
down, down
into the waters below
I learned every feeling is allowed
and once I learned that,
the process of completion
could begin
Lift your celestial gaze to be amazed in Wonder
As has Ptolemy, then Copernicus and Kepler after
Who are the capricious Gods who dance in wander
To revere Mercury? Venus? Mars? Saturn? Jupiter?
Ptolemy imagined a play staged at his own residence
There the Gods heaved upon us all their vain existence
Trapped by Humanity's Ego, blind to exposed evidence
His glowing Hearth lifting higher embers of negligence
Copernicus heralded the inspirational spark of sacred denial
Orbits dared to be spun into the ire wrath of Church reprisal
Hush your Truth. Mankind cannot, will not be the Sun's disciple
Calculations implore? Observations explore? ASTRONOMICAL!!!
Kepler awoke to his divine intervention lifting the veil of Dogma
He questioned atop ashes of descent burned without anesthesia
A revolution uproar of Ellipses stretching in variable speed inertia
The Gravity of his Truth pulling inextricably at undisputable raw data
The moral of this recounting is to shun the fantasies touted by Elves
Be wise. Be curious. Gather the courage to see Truth for yourselves
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