Tick tick tock ….. watch that eerie clock,
with buddha shaped tuscan stain shroud,
intruding the silver-blue eyed fog waker,
me, the gem treasure hunter hovering,
oe’r sunshine focussed raspberry trellis,
that sturdy bamboo shoot prop “ripener,”
I sabre rattle squishy mango downpours,
in my nirvana of forest green subconscious,
now jolted by the red rose tint second hand,
into mortal transit’s dwindling time-lapse
An awful crowd intrudes my solitude,
When memories rush while I brood,
But ere long pass on in sudden rush
And before I know they flood bank to bank.
I think of using bridge to go across,
But I find it far from easy---
The flood that overflows pushes me back,
And I never before knew that
A crowd of one can be so overwhelming.
… … … … …
Yet, as the waters settle,
And as I get used to the quiet,
Memories do seem like
The ash on an unguent stick
To be cleared now and then,
Or seem like essence eased out of a bottle,
The stick cannot light up my lamp,
Nor bottled fragrance stays forever,
And so do memories.
And I take solace in the fact
That memory’s like a crazy woman
Who hoards her tattered rags
And throws away her good raiment.
________________________
Musings | 04.09.2014/revised Sept 2026| memories, solitude, Free verse
No other beast, intruding
But is with gun, protruding
Down a slant of light's
Treed funnelling through.
Man, seen as. Man, imagine!
More out of place to define
Non-native killer;
A world, foreign to!
Depression is a prison where you are
both the suffering prisoner and the cruel jailer.
~Anon
It’s a nebulous reality
Inside where it can’t be defined~
Insane soaring to the heights;
Insane falling to the depths,
Illusions of happiness like icebergs
Intruding on flames of hope~
I dream of wings without cages.
bliss a pulsation
that pervades stillness
without intruding on quietude
God’s heartbeat within
silent beatitude
Please something give me meaning
In this cruelly repetitive modern life
I function but don’t feel alive
I read dull emails
I have dull conversations
With dull people
Yet I feel most alive when
Riding my bicycle along the bike path
Interrupting fairy-wrens
Like an obnoxious tourist
Disturbing their natural lives
I think they’re bidding me good morning
Perhaps they’re telling me to piss off!
Daybreak came first with interference
Then dawn touched the creek, top of trees
She could not break through the clouds
Be she would not let me just be
I tried to close her out and told her go away
She kept intruding on my nap
In bed under covers, nice and warm
I wanted my sleep to not suddenly sap
Only misery replaced dawn in my sleep
I had to raise my weary head
Sometimes the bathroom calls as well
I had to get out of bed
The clouds are sucking the life away
But giving plants and trees new growth
The children's garden enjoys the rain
Weeds in heyday undergrowth
Barbed wire,
strapped round my organs,
tighten,
when I look in your eyes.
The blood pours inside of me,
so you can't see it.
I pray for holy water,
convince them to take me to it,
for you can't come,
or set foot,
in my haven,
if you think the place itself,
is vile.
So take me home! Take me home!
The place that I was promised, before
you all turned on me,
I truly thought,
you thought higher of me.
Feel my rage,
as I burn your home,
to the ground,
for intruding on mine.
What is the use,
in negotiating with a broken record?
I thought you knew me better,
I thought you all cherished me more,
than to leave my broken body at the bottom of the chasm,
after you pushed me.
I see a camera stuck
to my head's cast shadow.
Its photo-bombing
my selfie's inked silhouette!
I twist, step sideways,
swivel and turn,
but I can’t shake it loose from the frame.
The Sun’s intruding,
and colluding,
casting the blame.
The camera can't lie
about why I craved the photo.
Why the shutter
must scatter clutter into the scene,
shot from all angles.
To stall the clean getaway,
To spoil the alibi,
for snatching a snap-shot
from the scene
of the crime.
while I was drawing the dragon
with Sharpies, Crayola markers,
a silver, metallic brush marker,
and Chalk Writers
in bright pink and mint
(all from the dollar tree)
which I mischievously
borrowed from my son’s room,
I was talking to mom.
I might have had
just a little bit of very legal
ha-ha hemp
before I discovered
that sharpies can
be blended on canvas
just like paint.
The half-dry lime green
turned a lighter shade
than forest, with just
a swirl of the
imagination.
I took many poetic liberties
and nonsensical giggles
when I gave the intruding,
angry dragon on the left
silver spots to mock
his prejudiced personality.
‘Herb,
The Vegetarian
Dragon.’
is one of my favorite
children’s books
for this month
of every year.
But Herb,
vegetarian or not,
you still look
ridiculous.
You will never understand
All colours are never fair brother
So learn to not to trust too much
Their are things that can never change
So when you walking your path
Understand that life is not shinny on the other side
There are troubles you must face not because you cursed it but
What ever is meant to be will be brother
So be the best version of yourself
And send negative energy so far away
You will never understand
I have been through a lot
Recently am getting better with my pains
I refuse to settle for less
So I have to move on to the next level
There are always challenges I don’t wish for
This are always the circumstances intruding my happiness
Yet I smiled all the way through
I refuse to be down and defeated
Is difficult to keep up
But i know I will make it in life
And when people question my energy
All I have to say in reply is
You will never understand
nature stirs oblivious to me
the sea the land and sky above
i am the outsider intruding
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Quiet as kept,
I crept by the door where my neighbours are sleeping.
Stepped on by,
I think I overheard select whispers of a movie still speaking.
The silent disrespect,
My ears are erect,
Intruding where there’s no right to be peeping.
Metaphorically speaking,
There’s a gate we’re socially inept of leaping.
Introducing ourselves to the theme of silence broken by creaking.
Cracks in the walls where defiance of security comes leaking.
My ears are tuning into a day of the lives of some strangers weeping.
I know their lives behind four walls and a closed off ceiling,
Probably better than any friends and family that they’re still seeing.
The plot lines come with twists I’m privately critiquing,
And I jot rhymes,
Following every line repeating.
Until now,
My technique broken but somehow still keeping;
Pace.
Poetically I’ve now removed my very own base.
I say I’m fine like I’m okay
Don’t need to darken their day
They don’t need to hear about my intruding pain
It’s not like it matters anyways
They say you fake it till you make it
So I’ll put a smile on my face
I’ll pretend to be okay
I’ll try not to go insane
I’ll try to be okay
All the things I can’t erase
The memories of my mistakes
The voices that remind me I’m a disgrace
This crushing weight
Making my heart ache
All the things I wish to say
But they won’t care anyway
So instead I’m okay
Spirit alerts the dogs first
They have senses humans cannot name
In tune with the intruding entity, they cannot stop barking
What is it? Asks my husband
Ghosts, I say
How do you know?
Can you see anything?
No.
That’s how I know.
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