What used to be simple’s
No longer the case,
With AI and tech leaving
No human trace.
A phone call reverts to
The state of “On hold,”
The music appalling,
And not ‘cause I’m old.
The customer rep keeps
Repeating each fact,
But sends you an email
He failed to enact.
So after an hour,
Which soon becomes two,
You hang up the phone
And you haven’t a clue
If he did what you asked
To provide what you need
And you have no idea
Just how you should proceed.
I miss the old methods
Of making a call,
When a pencil and paper
Recorded it all.
She is ok in a small dose
Other wise its a living hell
Try to be the perfect hoast
She reverts back to her shell
Never is she though one to boast
But thoigh always kiss and tell
At times pushed pillow to post
"Oh yeah er ok ,oh yeah oh well"
Still she is quite unlike most
Love,maddness,trouble -
she dose spell!
At times like living with a ghost
Never in the here and now,
Idea crom conversation back in 2014 bits taken fom here and now now and then writes,written 2022
Light as an emanation
Of hope-filled joy.
Light as a revelation
Of divine birth.
Drawn to each type, selfsame toned
Whilst sung to, as
Child, reverts back to: angel
Of divine worth.
After vacation, it’s time to unwind
And leave those adventures of travel behind.
You’ll need to unpack because soon you will find
You are back in your normal routines.
Forget all those places you slept or you dined,
The varied excursions your tour guide designed,
Your life now reverts to the regular kind,
Whatever, in your case, that means.
With luck, though, there might just be tucked in your mind,
Some visions to think of, when you’re so inclined,
Of your journey, so when you return to the grind,
It won’t be a mere hill of beans.
Love is …
Love is a gamble, love hurts
If only the pain was something that reverts
Love is testing not always kind
Love can lead us all to be blind
Love is painful, love is unfair
Love can expose you and lay you bare
Love can go one or two ways
For some Love is just a phase
Love is tiring it can leave you drained
Love is something that sometimes can't be explained
Love is often uncontrollable
It can sometimes leave you feeling inconsolable
But wait….
Love is happiness, love is joy
Love can leave you feeling coy
Love is magical , love is true
I know because i've felt that too
Love is powerful, it can be uplifting
It can feel like your always drifting
Love is simple, yet so complicated
It can give you a rush or leave you completely deflated
Love is a double sharp edged blade
Be careful with whom your heart you trade.
Sun now rising in the east
renews its vows with mother earth.
It's rays regenerating life
dark of night so selfishly stole.
As I absorb its warming rays
my mind reverts to you.
Like the sun, you made my darkest hours
turn into just a memory.
Bringing warmth where once
cold roamed freely through my soul.
Tears I once shed are now
like crystals flowing from a chandelier.
Reflecting every hue of a rainbow
passing through my eyes of china blue.
No longer the words "I love you"
seem meaningless coming from my lips.
You have shown me there is warmth in my heart.
Feelings once trapped deep within me,
with no portal to escape, are now released
from their cold, lifeless existence.
You've made my heart, my mind, my whole being,
rise as if a Phoenix from a dark dreaded sleep.
Like that sun rising in the East,
you have renewed my life again.
I am muse-walking,
~~ writing a poem.
The phone rings -
it’s my pal.
Something my mouth says
makes us both laugh.
At the same time,
one of my hands
is searching for the image
I was just about to find,
before the cell phone fractured it.
"Yea come over I’m doing nothing."
I am almost touching a black cat
in a dark room,
almost see it evaporating
on the threshold of nowhere.
We exchange ‘see-yer’ lingo.
Alone again,
my mind reverts to being
a heat-seeking sea anemone.
Sadly, the unfinished poem
has turned into a small owl,
perched on a thin tree
in the Andes.
They stay in the background
stating a useless union still self-centered
powerless, ill-prepared, inept entity of promises,
the verbiage of false hopes with all the dos and donts,
watching, waiting, predicting, and anticipating
another's demise into servitude rationalized
with lie and innuendo, pseudo promises, outright lie,
treaties made never intended to be kept;
an envious and jealous desire of possession
over control, land and people, ever transitory
it never seems to end, forgetful of history's lessons
never once learning the realities of truth;
self-indulgent arrogance and ignorance
internal self-gratification to be more
bound by useless rhetoric and threat
and the human race reverts ever backward;
how long do we watch from distant shores?
as humanity fades into the past aggressions
back to the dust and earth in regression
of time in restart?
First things first, as we age, bliss bubbles burst
With flow of life flirt, free of desires erst
Essence of presence, vibrant innocence
Carefree dance, waits not for a second chance
On our heart hangs a warning: joy alert
Ego urge reversed, no fears to avert
To divine love and light, our soul reverts
Cognisance of inner luminescence
First things first
Be it need or greed, we retain one thirst
May bliss magnetism continue to spurt
Nestled in silence, tuned to loves cadence
Divine entwined parlance, our indulgence
Agendaless joy, with each breath assert
First things first
08-July-2021
The Last Dance Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
We used to be able to speak of children, gardens, quilts, our mutual relatives.
Now my sister has her identity all wrapped up in a political commentary.
She is totally immersed in the side of the Anti-Christ, brain-washed.
Which I could abide, if she did not persist upon trying to convert me.
I will never go to the dark side; I don’t even like the other candidate.
I recognize evil when I feel it. This political stuff has strained us.
Our relationship may never be the same; I feel it is the Civil War now.
Brother against brother, sister against sister. I try to speak of quilting.
Quilting is her “thing”. My things are poetry, cartooning and painting.
I desperately speak of these creative areas, but she reverts to politics.
Every conversation an attempt to persuade me, convert me to her way.
This is something I do not understand; it is a strain to be civil now.
Does anyone else have the feeling
That life is escaping too fast
That passing of time leaves you reeling
As present reverts to the past?
A blink, and the baby is crawling
Then walking to school on his own
Too soon university's calling
And full independence is sown.
For time cannot stall in its travels
And yes, we should treasure what's gone,
But shape as each new day unravels
Fresh memories that will live on.
11.11.20
( My son turns 30 this month!)
The bog cotton hisses in concert with the curlews bubbling wail.
The salt air stirs the marram grass, the sand sedge and sea kale.
Alone she walks in beauty 'neath the dappled harvest moon.
Her night-time wanderings witnessed by the nightjar and the loon.
She trips from dune to pebbled beach in wonderment and awe.
Revelling in her yearly sojourn as she dances on the shore.
With child-like innocence her eyes and ears dart at every sound,
as her naked body glides and weaves, feet barely touch the ground.
With the advent of the breaking dawn, she knows she must relent.
The shoreline beckons, the ebbing tide mean her time is almost spent.
She lies where shingle meets the strand as skin reverts to scale.
Then, she is gone, in a splash of foam and a swish of her mighty tail.
beechwoods downland
common heath
chalky soil
inches beneath
trees
jostling tall
leaf,yellow-brown
in Autumn fall
fallow deer feed
at dawn and dusk
treading flat
the beechnut husk
roedeer muntjac proliferate
where Nature reverts
& liberates
colours tint our view
daylight
so soon out of sight
waves goodbye
all creatures exhale
a sigh
When the ages rock,
all divergence reverts to type
And time bows to the inner voice
—of eternity
(Dreamsleep: December, 2019)
Every scepter, every throne,
reverts again anew
The god’s, their will divided,
in Iliads of truth
All wars of good intention,
paved avenues to hell
Honor shamed by Zeus renamed
—that horse where judgment dwells
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)
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