Alone in this veranda
In this rocking chair I love
I see my world in many views
Right now, the field is in full green
Just in time the farmers
Planted after a month of rains
I see also the humdrum life
Besides this two-story house
A bustling street of queued jeepneys
Happen everyday that God has made
What is more exciting is beyond the field
There is a vast sea lies over there
That caught my life attention
In short, the fishing adventure that I love the most
Life is short, I keep the best for it
The bustling life, the field, the sea and me.
Valentine's Day is a special time in just so many ways
It is an occasion to show your gratitude to the one you love by truly seizing the day
A candlelight dinner for my lady I must make before she comes through the door
A beautiful bouquet adorns the table with rose petals spread out on the floor
A bottle of her favorite wine awaits, and her taste buds set to enjoy
Romantic love songs are all queued up and ready to deploy
Upon her arrival home, she will be met with a long embrace and hugs and kisses galore
I will tell her how special she makes me feel and could not ask for anything more
For the evening hours, a couples massage I have arranged
Upon return home, a romantic movie is to be watched, with lots of cuddling to be exchanged
My life would not be complete without her by my side
Thank you for being a part of this magnificent magical carpet ride
A large group of dogs, alone and free
Saw from the forest a single tree
So they queued up in line
And then every canine
Patiently waited to take a pee.
Guy starred at the Octagon,
when he was just a lad,
and all the reviews.
in the Bolton News,
said that he wasn’t too bad.
His mum said it was destiny,
his dad said it was karma,
when Guy got his kicks,
down the A666,
at Salford studying drama.
From the Exchange to the Everyman,
he took the stage by storm,
the London critics,
even the cynics,
queued up to watch him perform.
“Bolton’s talented Guy” they cried,
and followed the rising star,
but he couldn’t forget,
when offered Hamlet,
his dad thought they meant a cigar.
Guy knew he’d finally made it,
his mum wept tears of delight,
when she jumped for joy,
with news that her boy,
would turn on the Blackpool lights.
class act
one hard to follow
more intriguing then
ah-bore
he thinks of all involved
when he performs
seen and unseen
his works are a class act
a showcase of talent
and sheer ability
it wouldn't suprise me if
millions of people would
support his effords of
acheiving his goals
the right guidance
and the right
people around him
will help him
in his success
his failures might
not be as long as his runs
if he's lucky
it wouldn't hurt to have the
right corner man
and the
right trainers
to keep him focused
and someone to
get him seen as
a contender
and maybe even a champion
His Cucoloris is made
from his own works
lets see what he can do with it
The Average Quarter's announce team queued in on
Champion Royal's debut! With B$ basso intro's
provided by IntroMedia
The Class Act in precision music!
It was a Swedish film they said,
Mixing real life, truth and art,
A little bit expressive they said,
Which for us was a jolly good start
And when Sunday the good Father
Preached to go and see it was a sin
The street outside was crowded
As we quietly queued to get in.
This was the early 1960’s
When standards had to be preserved
What was outrageous then would
Now be considered quite reserved.
There was Sex and there was Symbolism
There was Fear, Anxiety, Angst and Doubt.
I watched the whole film enthralled
No idea what it was all about
At later showings we found
Due to the films”s notoriety
And to enable a continuing
Sense of community propriety
At a given signal they had to hold
Sheets of paper before their eyes
To avoid seiing certain scenes
And keep Innocence uncompromised
But, it was Art and it was Sex,
Displayed on the silver screen
And despite the Father’s warnings
Me and most of the village had been.
It was never mentioned in the bar
Later on when we went for a drink,
Just the odd embarrassed grin
And the occasional knowing wink.
Buttercups are dancing to singing daffodils
King Neptune, with his trident, is surfing down a hill
Rabbits playing hopscotch with rainbow coloured frogs
Snails with sparkly spinning shells slither along gold logs.
Wolves in sheep's clothing are bleating nonstop,
Four hyenas harmonise, in a barbers shop.
Centipedes were newly crowned; Kings Of Tug Of War
While spiders spin silk candy floss for their online store.
A pony with a sore throat, was sounding rather hoarse
Moles queued to play nine rounds on Trumps new golf course.
The parrot kept repeating the same unfunny joke
The magician did his magic tricks with a talking cloak.
I came across a chip tree, surrounded by a moat
Where fish were reading newspapers in a paper boat
The moat is filled with batter and when a fish goes in,
A sudden blast of dragon's breath, cooks and seals the fish within.
I thanked a praying mantis, who had taught me self-defence
Only then to realize, none of this made any sense.
I blamed it on the late night snack before I went to bed
Then said goodnight, to the squid, that's curled around my head.
19.05.22
What does heaven look like?
Who will I meet there?
Is it there for infinity?
I need to be aware.
Will all of my ancestors ,
Be waiting there for me?
And will it be a great,
Alternative to purgatory?
Will there be a banquet,
I can eat from all the time
Will I be drinking nectar?
Or some water turned to wine?
While I be a while waiting,
At those gates made out of pearls?
Will I have to wait queued behind,
The princes, dukes and earls?
How big a span is covered,
By the heaven’s area?
Or is it omnipresent ?
When he takes you,there you are.
So I’ve got lots of questions,
If you’ve answers please do tell,
But omg I’ve realised,
I might end up in hell!
I know your thoughts, they sting
with the darkness they bring
when the world is overwhelming
too much to bear
questioning if anyone is there.
The day, cold and gray dim light
begins to slip away in chilly bite
into caverns of the night
I see each tear begin to fall
alone in evening shadows as they call;
Wait for me, I'm coming home
you need never be alone
within my arms, each tender kiss tones
fears and dreams this life has queued
be at peace, be calm, I am here for you.
Always unexpected, spring arrives.
Water and warm spring air raises grass
On hills before the sheep and llamas graze.
Rain falls and tries to glaze fields of yellow hay
Stippled by the husbanded animals and deer
With their round mouthed chewing into cud.
Now, farmers can stop trips to buy extra hay
In town, pickup trucks with rolled hay bales
Jostling down the washboard country roads.
Spring calving and planting
Easiest of clichés:
Renewal, and I watch the fields green.
Queued up around the edge of the nearest one,
A stand of bushes and though there is no wind,
One quakes and shivers as if it’s cold.
I inspect beneath its outer leaves
To see two birds fluttering feathers
And jumping from branch to branch
Picking dark berries off,
Pecking them out of shape
And with broken neck gestures
Shake their heads from side to side
And eat them one by one. (4/9/21)
some other world passed by that night
through wet circles on the glass.
against the blur of dark and light
crowds swarmed and walked en-masse.
the storm picked up along South Shore
spitting patterns on the screen.
the wipers rubbed and squeaked once more
leaving fan shapes where they’d been.
the lights that danced above the clubs
were synced to move like real.
they chased down piers and past the pubs
and round the ferris wheel.
our car would crawl and stop again
as we queued in single file.
through steamed up windows and driving rain
beat the heart of The Golden Mile.
SUPPORTING ARTISTE
When I used to tell people I was a film extra, or ‘supporting artiste’ as we preferred to be called, they would say, “How glamorous, mixing with all those stars.” But, of course, the reality is not like that. You get up at 3.00 am in the middle of winter, scrape the ice off the windscreen and drive for two hours to the location. Having queued in the snow for your costume, you then sit all day in a draughty marquee waiting to be called, hoping that you might find yourself near enough to the camera to be recognizable in the finished film. You certainly don’t get to mix with the stars. Once I got a small speaking part and told all my friends to watch out for my big moment. But, alas, it ended up on the cutting room floor.
far in the background
supporting artistes wander
split second of fame
28th August 2020
Let The Pens Flow - Haibun poetry contest
Sponsor - Jenish Somadas
Bill’s cucumbers grew long and hard
Nuns queued up for them in his yard
‘Twas their weekly treat…
They were not to eat
I’ll finish here… or I’ll get barred!
08/12/20
In season 6 we have been stuck
And numerous calls brought no luck.
Episodes 8 to 10
Left us wondering when
Into episode 9 we could tuck.
It’s a problem, the company said,
But we’ll fix it; why don’t you instead
Stream it on your TV.
If it’s smart, you won’t see
The omission that you seem to dread.
Since our TV is dumb, we were screwed
So we paused and some other shows viewed,
But today, a surprise
And a sight for sore eyes
For the show we were missing’s been queued.
We had almost accepted defeat;
Thought the season would stay incomplete
But the problem’s resolved
And the techies involved
Gave my husband a real birthday treat.
It was a long line
as I queued to make my purchase;
just one item for the checkout.
All were getting frustrated,
showing signs.
As the old lady at the front
searched her purse
for the right change
the contents spilled,
rolled across the floor
in all directions.
We put down our baskets
to help with the gathering.
For each of us
such a smile,
showing a sign
of gratitude,
quelling frustration:
made us feel as one,
waiting in line.
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