What happened to the funny man
that insecure comedian
O, he’s here, carries on
transcendent verse, his latest con
High Above
Determination Climb
Look and Explore
Courage to try
Showing no Fear
Straight up
Majestic and Mighty
Careful Maneuver
One foot at a time
Desire and Assurance
Strength full of endurance
Leverage to the top
Pausing briefly at stop
Mountain Feat
Not giving into Defeat
Climbing, Climbing with victory on the mind
Until mission is complete
Horizon to see
Mountain and us.
I fancy you will find a wonderful man
Who loves you the way I once did
And will hold your admiration in hand
To give back to you what I once undid.
A man who understands who you are
One who is present in your times of need.
A man who loves you both near and far
To support you when you fail or succeed.
Perfect in every way, handsome, graceful
Adhere always to your whimsical whims.
Never wavering, unkind, or wasteful
Keeping you warm at night with sturdy limbs.
Greets you every morning with fanfare
Adheres to all the desires you may crave
And meets your unrealistic standards
Pining to please you from cradle to grave.
In your troubled world there is only one
Who is tough enough to withstand such fun.
Before the city grew teeth of storeys,
Every road was once a footpath of dark earth,
Every skyline a village dream feigning height.
The whirlwind arrives like an ancestral drum,
Beating zinc roofs into memory,
While the soil drinks without question.
Maize rises like angry dust,
Crops sleep beneath the earth like buried wealth,
The old iroko keeps census of generations.
We call ourselves urban, as if asphalt
Could bleach the village from our blood,
As if language could divorce us from reality.
Every man carries an ancestral footpath,
Every woman a forgotten rib in the bones,
Every last name is a door to somewhere rural.
The city is only a village that learnt to disguise itself,
And civilisation, perhaps, is merely distance,
From the stream that first taught us to swim.
When the rain smells of the earth,
Listen keenly—the village speaks through you;
Everyone is a village man, even in hired suits.
From Vandeikya to Eko sluthers the same rhythm,
Only the midriff of imagination pats on them.
I awake and here I am,
naught but a mere mortal man.
Why came I this weak way,
restrained in fragile skin,
little but stiffened clay,
imprisoned as are all men?
Flesh will away, that soon day,
to the dust where it had been.
Then I will really be Me,
with mind and soul soaring free.
- Darrell Simmerman copyright 2024
Morning chapel
padre preaching
all new to me
came here for a natter
see what’s there to see
every hell has its angels
he don’t know ‘bout angels
how they fight
thrills of a motor bike
chariots o’fire
if he say he do, s’not true,
he aint read the manual
don’t know what a spanner’s for
he just know we threw it in
an’ it don’t work
I’d run out o’ booze
drunk as a lord
awake till morn
got no comfort
I ain’t weak
disinherited me
had nothin’ to give
always empty
it ain’t right
raised hungry an’ thirsty
plenty o’ scrapes
showed no mercy
weak for a tart
love n’ leave
that ain’t odd
yeah, was picked on
fight for me rights
they be-me-attitudes
an’ I’ll not change
bless ‘em they try
‘n they try
I’ll never change
if heaven is gained
through suffrin’
I’m in
man-ah never found
streets paved with bread
much less with gold
I looked for trouble
‘n found it
there ain’t no justice
tain’t no miracle
that’s why I’m here
tain’t no miracle
Shadow Man
Sitting in an empty room.
He watches down the hall.
As shadows move across the floor.
And dance along the wall.
His eyes grow darker like the room.
Cause to him it’s all the same.
Rejected by the light of day
the shadows call his name.
Sitting in the darkened room,
Where nighttime never ends.
He don’t seem to mind at all.
The shadows are his friends.
He listens to the whispers.
Carried in the nighttime air.
As shadows repeat secrets.
That someone dared to share.
Be careful what you say or do.
It’s part of a greater plan.
The secrets told that he may hold
the one called Shadow Man.
Edwin C Hofert
You call yourself my father but you never even bother to call me your daughter.
I sat for a while thinking about you
I thought that maybe hes on the moon
“Mollee what did you do, to make him leave all of you?”
I realize that it was never my fault
Hes and adult
Why should I blame myself for him walking away, it’s not like i was old enough to tell him to stay
Thinking about him leaving used to hurt more then bleeding.
I'm 14 now and somehow I still don't know why you left
you just settled on theft.
Until proven innocent
A man is always guilty
Until proven guilty
A woman is always
innocent.
Not a single crumbling house will remain.
People on the pavements, hawkers, garbage,
Only then, a city painted on a scroll, ding-dong.
For the household fish to be cut,
a ash-boti is needed,
not a knife or a dagger.
This city, you see, was once,
in primordial times,
a forest, where deer and tigers
also lived. Keep thinking about it.
Catwalks on the ramp,
soft, gentle feet, within the dreams
of sitting beside the lotus pond,
rural Bengal is becoming far too genteel,
chairs, tables, curtains,
birthday cakes,
Bhadra-month Bhadu Puja, people
dancing and singing, swaying their waists
in courtyards,
a little rice, a little money.
I keep gazing at the pond,
the afternoon pond.
I am an old-fashioned man.
Sparrows and mynas, walking in tiny steps,
squirrels racing past,
the inarticulate map of nature.
I don't know why I am so frightened,
I don't know why I am so delighted,
I don't know, the birthing room, the constellations,
I am thinking about the price of everyday things,
thinking about an ordinary life,
thinking about an ordinary world.
Just now, I had a cup of tea,
a cigarette
When the mirror shattered it took my vision
Eyes cut so deep my tears were red
Broken and despaired no light reached my eye
Reflecting on myself without a mirror
Appearances cost so much
Broken glass everywhere all I can feel is silver
I hate the fake me but they just want more
Silver ain’t good enough, they only want gold.
Said I was special but secretly despised me
Projecting their flaws onto me
I can’t blame them
Clown is a clown no matter how funny
A Carnival of carnivores
Eat the meat discard the bones
Wish someone would toss me some
But I am beyond repair
My name is mirror man
But not anymore
Who am I now?
Just a man?
I lived most my life ~ trying to hide the sin that made me who I am
worse part I’d do it all again ~ rather than being seen as this sham
By
David Kavanagh
There was an old man from Keokuk,
Who suffered a spate of bad luck,
He said with a grin,
When he finally got in,
I couldn't buy a break for a buck!
Absolute
by Frank Daub
I have always dealt -- in absolutes.
I was educated in this way.
The greatest Man who ever lived
knew NIGHTIME -- from the day.
An absolute stands timelessly
above the doubt –
and tall.
Yet those who will not understand
Reject truth as a wall.
I see that look in your eyes,
That sparkle with shine,
Asking me for something more
That I cannot provide.
I don’t want to hurt you again.
Why give you half of me
When you deserve me at my best,
And I’m just not there yet?
I want to tell you, you can trust me.
Your feelings are safe in my hands,
But I might end up letting go
And chasing after something that’ll hurt me more.
I know you’re what’s best for me if I healed,
If I stayed focused and put myself first.
I could be the man of your dreams,
Instead, I’m like any other man.
I wish I was like Atlas and could carry your load.
I’d tell you my cup is empty, but I can take more.
But I’m on the edge, with one more bad day
Enough to make me spill everything over.
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