Ian Scott Anderson
as a flautist loved to have fun
in prog. rock he wasn’t dull
and gave us Jethro Tull
Professor Ian plimer has a
Little green book...
Why not.? Get a copy?
And take a look.'
Southwest Florida strong
It’s been this way all along
Coming together to help our neighbor
Always on our best behavior
In this time of need
This is what the world will see
An army of angels doing their thing
It’s amazing what emerged from the rain
It’s how I picture heaven… without the damage
If this were our future could you imagine
A world about others not about ourself
It’s in the Bible sitting on the shelf
We will rebuild and will survive
By the grace of God we are alive
Those that went before
They know what’s in store
A beautiful paradise
Designed by the Lord
Hurricane Ian left no survivors and only a few boats in the water.
Old witch was bailing a pumpkin, heading toward her granddaughter.
But can we get there in time? The black cat asked in a weird way.
She smacked him on the head hard, for she was creepily mad that day.
If we do not, she said, you will be the first cat thrown into the water.
That is when the cat began praying for the health of her granddaughter.
Floridians love a palm tree
With fronds as pretty as can be
Along came Ian
Blowin' and peein'
And now there's nothing else to see
the combination of bought a realistic
view to what was going on.
one slip of the tougne one slip of the tonungue
would bring two opposing side together
one said in union it would recreate how
the structure of collabaration would
be defined as.
Lowbouis stand in el quesabras
while well to do fellas
sleep in mansions on hills
watch out for the rain El Quesabra
please stand by
there is a hurricane ah coming.
even the flute player realised how
horribale such conditions were
just even amagining being
spared or the oblivane
which await you.
Cry while onions ripened
season your meat
not to be gamey.
when the weather tames me.
who's to care!
Who knew that a hurricane named 'Ian' could be
something to fear.
Most Ian's are harmless, perhaps a little dull.
The water is surging in Florida Jacuzzi's.
It's gonna be bad.
It's important to name bad things
with bad sounding names.
Cat 4 monsters should be labeled correctly.
I hope the folks down there are okay,
but I want to re-name Ian
something like :- Gore-squishing-ghastly-gutter-beast,
or maybe Agnes
never liked that gal.
gray clouds drift slowly
gathering in southern sky
Ian is coming
windows are boarded
emergency sirens loud
winds coming faster
southern sky now dark
Mother Nature is angry
Gulf waters churning
traffic flows northward
palm trees are bending over
Ian is screaming
Written September 26, 2022
Ian, my grandson is quite a lively joy,
Though I admit, he's often a wilful boy,
Study for him is a bore
Homework ever his worst chore.
Football is the game always his eager ploy.
Watch him how fast he runs up and down the ground,
Shooting straight and strong and with fine goals astound.
Never tires running with speed,
But about learning to read?
Results come, will he be caught on the rebound?
The joke is that he is quite a clever boy,
Complicated PlayStation is his best toy,
Often quiet but hears all
Manages total recall,
His intelligence is the real McCoy.
The world a stage,
Shakespeare noted.
And we the imposter,
in our final call.
A few catch our last show.
Unwitting, they s on cue,
our fatal prelude,
our convulsive caricature,
our final self-deprecation.
A clown milking our last mockery,
our closing burlesque pratfall,
our irrevocable tremor,
our departure in floodlights.
The guffaws intend no harm.
No one knows our real name.
We are just the familiar disguise
of impulsive chuckles.
Yes, the stage is our world,
where we regale in our farcical regalia,
where we playact the death we die,
defined abruptly only by the privation of others,
their season of grieving like elephants.
Perhaps it’s better this way,
decomposing, never to be recovered,
just the sound of laughter lost,
or the fading fragment in someone’s
sleepless night.
Published The Magnolia Review 03/2020
Flesh and blood-Ian Munywe©
Though I do not say,
I can see.
Though I am mum,
I take notice.
Though I am still,
I tremble.
Though I do not sing,
I can hear.
Though I stay,
I could be leaving.
Sooner,
than later.
Though I transgress,
I am seeking redemption.
Though I seek truth,
I lie.
Though I stand firm,
I anticipate a fall.
Though I foresee new beginnings,
I fear for abrupt endings.
Though I grapple,
and tussle with life.
I am only a man,
flesh and blood.
Ian Munywe©
LiterarySpaceAfrica©
Literativille.Wordpress.com©
I will always love you
In a way
I will never love another
The way I love you
Intoxicatingly toxic
I look at the moon
and I see your face
in the starlight
I see you laughing
I see us
Together
But that is a life that will never be
A star that faded from the sky
Both you and I
We loved so deep it tore us apart
from the depth of our hearts
They were as a black hole pulling
each other in
feeding on our love
but it was too intense
and it would have our lives
The only way to save me
was to break my heart
and my heart you did break
I often wonder
was it me you were saving
or yourself?
MEANS TO AN END
Was I just,
a means to an end?
I am aghast,
at that stipend.
That I found in hat,
for me to mend.
The hurt in heart this fact,
to straighten every bend.
Nothing could tear us apart,
do you recall each weekend?
I must have been a bat,
not to notice your trend.
Crouching scheming as a rat,
who can never be a friend.
Was I just,
a means to an end?
I suppose veracity is that,
I have no more letters to send.
LiterarySpaceAfrica Ian Munywe©
I
I watched you walk away and still followed you,
well aware of the impeding pain.
LiterarySpaceAfrica Ian Munywe©
GOLD
Take that gold,
and hand me stacks of pens and papers.
From there I will discover,
my own mine, mine.
LiterarySpaceAfrica Ian Munywe©
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