My windows were wide open.
I learned to think broader,
I used to see the broader picture through my windowpane.
My wider views never taught me to squint my eyes
when it was time to look through others' spectacles.
I felt human bonds were made in paradise:
thus I evoked all the pain.
Failing to endure all the mental tortures from humankind,
doubts are evoking in my mind;
I don't know if that was just a green screen behind my windowpane!
Keep me informed and tuned,
Before the curtains are downed.
I use to forget my dialogues in the script,
No matter how frequently I revisit.
A blank version occupies me all the way, Hard to get rid of it and able to say.
I can't recognise the written pattern,
Just copying things from the stolen version.
My days never payoff to their might,
Nights are less bright to lose their sight.
In bed Don loves wearing his gold
Where billionaire's come to the fold
They need not hold loins
But just buy Trump coins
While we work till we're dead and old
Trump’s deals concern what he can break
It’s how this Don hauls in his take
The rich on him spend
As they must depend
On what they’ve kissed his ass to make
His son’s payoff struck them as bad
Republicans hate Hunter’s dad
But they won’t ascribe
Meme coins as a bribe
And part of Trump’s theft launching pad
Why do we wish away the moments we have today
Only to get to tomorrow and be filled with sorrow
Yearning to rewind the track to get yesterday back
Leaning into the present could be a better investment
Collecting credits along the way each and every day
As no longer carrying debts since living with no regrets
We are doing our best
So why are we so hard on ourselves
Chasing myths and legends
Wears us thin around the edges
Years lost not being true
As if becoming you…
Was a prize to earn with age
Or a curse disguised as wisdom
We trade space for knowledge
But no payoff breaks the fall
These balancing acts we try mastering
Are perfection hollowing us out
Knitting a tiny woolly sweater, for a sweet-tempered mouse
He sleeps on a blue letter, that arrived from grandmother’s house
Using scraps of yarn, that came from a pair of socks
Was keeping it to darn, but seems cold dwelling in a mailbox
Started offering him pieces of cheese, I no longer eat alone
Eventually I pour us both teas, by the garden that’s overgrown
Working with double pointed needles, carefully in the round
Looking out towards a mural, l see him on the church’s ground
I am excited to witness, that he has his own schedule
This mouse is full of cleverness, he returns with a spool of wool
I am slowly making progress, as the churchmouse grows a belly
We started to play chess, both just pushing pieces curiously
Casting on is thrilling, just as thrilling as casting off
Weaving frail ends are gruelling, but it will all soon payoff
He happily wore his new jumper, colours of autumn in stormy weather
So came an idea, thoughts of knitting a matching sweater
Seasons have come and gone, no need to wear thick wool
We’re having a picnic on the lawn, wearing a full matching ensemble
I create the words… an orchestry of thought as written down.
A reader’s paradise… dancing to the words without a sound.
To be a poet… words are my family, their voices my home.
The creations… a divine purpose, penned from poem.
The words like out of control boulders… a reader can’t get out of the way.
Miners of invoked emotions.. until the payoff they stay.
Words are comfort… a blank canvas of beauty… for all to see.
An architect’s landscape of imagination… and all… the dreams that be.
Just about to launch a new career
Or maybe I should call it a hobby
Dani Spies has certainly caught my attention
With her mouth watering recipes
And easy step-by-step videos to help us along
I'm drooling all over the keyboard as I type
I'm always game to try something new
The payoff at the end is the ultimate reward
Now I hear some of you saying...
“Are you nutso!!! Aren't you kinda old
To be firing off in a new direction?”
My answer to that is, “I ain't dead am I?
I'm always ready for a new challenge!”
And boy, what a rewarding hobby... yum, yum!!!
I'll keep you posted as to how much weight I gain
(ie. One of the annoying side effects!)
Wish me luck all you nice people!
Next I'll have a show on PBS entitled
“Old Chefs Never Die
They Just Choke On Their Artichokes”
Sun sets, sky glows cerise.
Throw the nets, catch showpiece.
Fish abound, birds take off
All fly round, it's payoff
Birds last meal, night is nigh
Strange feel, gratified high.
17 August 2021
Image 1
6 syllables per line.
Sponsored by: Joseph May
I feel good things are coming
It seems it will be true
I hope this means the time has come
Where the payoff will be you
I trust good things are coming
We've been waiting for so long
You've paid your debt to society
For those things that you did wrong
I need these good things coming
My life's been on hold thus far
We've both made plans for the day
We can explore who we both are
I see good things are coming
I stand here and decree
The most perfect thing I'll ever see
Is the day when you walk free
2/20/21
Today’s Political Climate
Tom’s Opinion
October 17, 2020
Politicians come to us with conflicting voices,
all intended to sway and influence our thought.
We’re bombarded daily with a myriad of choices,
most succeed in leaving us feeling distraught.
In today’s political climate, it’s mostly fake news?
Spewed are half truths causing many to scoff.
As Progressive Socialist’s are perpetuating their views,
career politicians continue reaping a payoff.
Some People
Don’t care what happens to other people.
They have their own agenda.
There is nothing that can change that…
except money, a larger payoff.
Books of words that say it is okay to lie.
Books of words that change the way the young feel,
about everything, until it is too late, to feel at all.
Smoke this, drink that, it’s all good, it is inclusive,
and a basic part of the new order.
Until we take from you all that we can.
We will use what we will,
and leave nothing behind.
Death crows, storm birds, black fowl,
pick the weak off from the herd.
We watched you take down towers.
We watched you kill without remorse.
Peaceful….
Some people are very passive,
and allowed to lie,
at will.
It is a septic evil,
that builds,
puss in the wound.
Fraud,
a framework of deceit,
allowing outsiders,
to become insiders,
until the cancer is beyond
removal.
But that is just…
some people.
Mortality
Fatality
Actuality
Split the difference
Meek or Innocent
A pocket full of Ashes
We all fall Down
In Nursery Rhymes
The age of innocence
Is puntctuated by the crack of a heart attack
As the light at the end of the tunnel
saying thanks for visiting slowly fades away
Until nothing is left
Because this is the point of no return
Where Mortality
In Actuality
Becomes Fatality
And if Faith
&
Belief
Was worth the Payoff
You are not perfect, you say;
Well, nobody is, say they.
Have you analysed yourself enough
to realize what makes you imperfect;
Or that which keeps you from being an epitome of perfect?
Have you?
A payoff of hundreds of decades of evolution are you;
About the struggles and efforts of your ancestors,
Do you even have a clue?
There is perfection in imperfection, they say.
You don't have to twist your brain to this paradox, I say.
If you struggle with the idea,
to you that was told;
Remember, they make broken bowls perfect,
by grouting cracks with gold.
Millions of years the world had to wait,
Before it could have you.
And that, you shouldn't just see through,
Surely not let them use you as bait!
The universe respects you;
more than you would ever know,
You need to realize the worth of yourself
and keep forever that glow.
O glorious day off
it's you that I've sought
you are the payoff
of a week, hard fought
You fill me with cheer
after many a mile
And now that you're here
I awake with a smile
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