(“A Moment of Grace aka The Empty Mirror”, 2024, original encaustic)
A Hollow Place
Sometimes it seems that who I am
Is nothing more than the dripping sediments
At the edges of a hollow cave
All the stalactites and stalagmites
Of a lifetime of experience
Calcified into a personality.
I may fool myself and even others sometime
With the wonders these shapes create
But in truth they are the mere dregs
Of all those formative years.
And what I’m really left with
When all the lights are out
And all the visitors gone
Is just the hollow place inside.
(11/24/24)
When you start getting it
All you've secretly strive for
Some with the help of few
Others all by yourself and God
When it starts manifesting
People Start tracking your medicine.
People wanna know your muse
Forgetting the story brings the glory
People want to be like and do you
But don't wanna walk in your shoes
Forgetting it goes from nothing
To something then everything else.
What you do and how you do it
Always determines your outcome
Where focus goes energy flows
Energy flows manifests results
Love what you do, do it wholly
But not to ride on people for folly.
she showed off her well-toned lovely derriere
the gorgeous artwork was amazing to see
fantastic and realistic; brilliantly created
a skull that looked ready to walk out of her hip
not something I could do, but on her it looked marvelous
Your lifestyle is vibrant and restless
and from tiny towns to big cities
your search for human images
to paint very realistic faces!
And while you don't have the unique touch
of a Davinci or of a Caravaggio: you do excel,
many strangers from far places ring your bell:
they spend hours posing for a silver brooch!
Earning money is only for essentials,
no passion is more satisfying
to glance at your finished paintings
and wish they'd be talking!
Painter of realistic faces,
immortalize them with your magical brush!
Those men's stunning, hard bodies;
those woman's seductive, soft curves,
don't need any correction or a final touch:
your artistic talent amazes!
Your lifestyle is vibrant and restless
and from tiny towns to big cities:
your search for human images
to paint perfect, lifelike faces!
And while you don't have the unique touch
of a Davinci or of a Caravaggio: you do excel,
many strangers from far places ring your bell:
they spend hours posing for a silver brooch!
Earning money is only for essentials,
no passion is more satisfying
to glance at your finished paintings
and wish they'd be talking!
Painter of realistic faces,
immortalize them with your magical brush;
their perfect masculine and feminine images
don't need any correction or a final touch:
your artistic talent amazes!
The arboretum is quiet today.
It is early,
yet too late
to spot a somnambulant space alien
emerging from the thorny bushes.
Do you believe?
I have seen the odd-looking sparrows,
with their razor-sharp teeth,
have fearfully
fed them the toenails of the toothless.
I have evidence,
my face can be read
like a well-used comic book,
the weirdness of reality
is writ there for all to see.
After a downpour
the small, ruined butterfly house,
drips shadows.
A darker than light creature
crouches there,
the squirrels dare not go near.
Trees here grow out of the soil
just as fast as they can.
The slugs cut through new roots,
they chew the rubbery innards,
of any overly anchored oak or elm.
Sunlight is jumping out of its nightly attire,
a superficial normality will soon return
to the slinking park.
It is time for my body to slip away,
beneath the nailed down boots
of a credible fiction.
Tomorrow, my 2-dimensional scream
will be featured on the cover of a coloring book -
it will come with edible crayons.
Seen in the movies, swishing swords about,
Those Ninja fighters make you want to run,
Hiding in shadows, jumping in and out,
Would challenge me: my Ninja skills are none.
However do they manage all they do?
So swathed in dark disguise and masked,
And carrying a bow and arrow too,
Leaping on rooftops, entering unasked.
I couldn’t hit a target with a dart,
Even in daylight, even standing still,
Just opening a pocket-knife’s an art,
I break my fingernails and always will.
It’s somehow not for me, that Ninja-ing,
Given that my knees are past my best,
I have to watch my back when gardening,
And carry reading glasses in my vest.
So Ninja life is not the thing for me,
No warrior, I’m English, mild and free,
That night air fogs my glasses constantly,
I’d rather watch the cricket on TV!
A wobble waiting in the shed
A joke cracked by Victorian comedians
A test of youthful instability
A trial by tarmac
An unyielding seat with changing views
A wetter way of travelling through rain
A soundless nemesis for pensioners
A tin-tack gathering machine
A complexity in ambulation
A tool used by the mad or desperate
A ticking mockery of balance
A frame for shaming the unfit
A creaking snail on hills
A public declaration of pretence or poverty
An undignified arrival and
A bait for thieves
we’re under the illusion
we have lots of time
...until we don't
carpe diem
AP: Honorable Mention 2022
I was lying down in a platform;
And was dreaming about the unwritten.
Not to end the renowned act;
But to continue it on your souls.
I can work harder on it;
To finish the realistic on time.
Even it is harder to remove thorns;
I want to replace it with joy.
I can make it worser atlast;
But gave up this time.
Not to make her perfect;
But to radiate her courage.
I was about to fall asleep;
Like a leaf going to grass.
But i saw something glazing;
That was the gaze of her eyes.
I thought unpleasant clouds are crying;
And they didn't let her shine.
But i realized ;it's not the destiny;
It's the way of outbreak in history.
I once had an office job sitting next to Miss Sunshine day in and day out. She and her 7th Day Adventist Jesus were always so positive and jolly about everything, it was hard not to smack her.
One day with syrupy sweet intonation she asked why I was so cynical and wasn't I an unhappy person.
I said, "Only a sociopath could be happy about the truth of things, but I'm just a realistic observer not hiding behind cheerful nonsense; there's no correlation to happy or unhappy. Look at you for instance. You are smiling and upbeat all the time. And I don't believe I've ever met an unhappier person."
She was stunned, momentarily silent, mouth hanging open. Then she burst into terrible wracking sobs of anguish.
Loss, like love, is a state of being
It can’t be explained , it has no meaning
It will fill your world, excluding the rest
It will last for ever, it can’t be suppressed.
But if you have loss you’ve also had love
That is the miracle sent from above
For life, without either, is shallow indeed
Their lack creates a soul in need.
So carry on living, loving and losing
Carry on working, laughing and boozing
Life’s too short to mourn and despair
While love and loss are everywhere.
keeping a realistic
view of things
to come is
the way to
not allow
the mind to
take flight
towards the
land of unrealistic
perceptions
of what is going
to occur within
this new realm
of possibilities
that has all but
recently opened up
once more
I'm done with the strides
and the delusional dreams
of a wasted lifetime.
I open a new chapter...
seeking realistic answers.
Is life just one fun-filled fantasy,
Totally devoid of reality?
On a seemingly endless journey,
Sojourning on for an eternity.
“Can I go out and play”
I hear the children say,
So they may oscillate on a wooden swing,
Innocently unaware and uncaring,
Of what the morrow will bring.
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