Sat on the veranda in Cape Verde
to eat my chicken and rice
it was so hot
I thought a drink would be nice.
I go in for refreshement
then came out to be
back with my meal
but what did I see?
A cat nicked my chicken
the birds ate my rice
now my plate was empty
and scraps wouldn't suffice.
Now I no how 'they' feel
when the tables are turned
and they are so hungry
lesson now learned.
Turned to high voltage and keyed up,
up hard right to strike fresh levels.
Levels that can leave some unhinged,
Unhinged ‘til the tables are turned.
Turned into this savage with love,
love that was inhaled so deeply.
Deeply mixing sparks with nitro,
nitro that left her whole world turned.
There are instances in nature that imitate the nature of some humans.
Tis sad but true that...
a mockingbird makes fun of another bird who sings more beautifully
a thorn pricks until it draws blood, but it never injures the rose
a moth thinks it has beautiful wings, until a butterfly emerges
a crow takes pleasure in taunting others until its feathers get ruffled
a bully intimidates but gets burned when the tables are turned
narcissists think they are in control until someone laughs at their arrogance
plagiarizers and AI users... nah. Their denial is a waste of time
Horror Story.
Wife’s gone to bed, there’s a spooky sound
Still scared of the dark when no one’s around
I hear her snore in the room above,
A reassuring growl, is just enough
In the film a killer is stalking
All the lights off, no one’s talking
Turn on the lights, an involuntary scream
Has no affect on those in the scene
A glint of a knife, raised in a hand
Bet she regrets this one-night stand
I know, I know, it’s only acting
I could tell, the kind she’s attracting
I’d have given her really sound advice
Forget the murderer, find someone nice.
But no, he’s here, no is not the answer
She’s an undercover cop, not exotic dancer
The tables are turned, during the struggle
I sneak off to bed, give the wife a cuddle.
David Cox 17/02/23
DO YOU REALLY CARE?
Dr. Jim Martin
In olden days folks seemed to care
About friends and strangers everywhere
Though things were often in short supply
There seemed enough to “make it by.”
An attitude of community seemed to prevail
Especially in times of great travail.
Being neighborly was common then
It reached beyond next of kin.
In this day of constant haste,
There is never a moment most have to “waste.”
Is “waste” really the appropriate word?
Does helping a neighbor seem so absurd?
It seems we have lost a needed trait.
We seem to have not a moment to wait.
If we, however, are ever despaired
Would we then wish that someone cared?
It is odd, somehow, that when the tables are turned,
We find ourselves wishing more compassion was learned.
That “learning” which then is so desired
Is often by many not acquired.
GETTING PAID
It is often said
You may get paid
In your own coins.
That happens when
The tables are turned
And the fingers are burnt.
On the tower to stay
A heavy price you pay
To make a designed foray
Across many layers of grey.
You deceive none other than you
And let your pricey self-esteem devalue.
Instead you may walk upright
Try not to scale the insecure height
Take along others on road by your side
Let unerring conscience be the constant guide.
You would then fill many hearts with benevolence
And would earn getting paid in their coin of reverence.
February 20, 2018
So many people with so much to say
Seeking notability increases their way
With each other they'll all compete
Top position is what they seek
Wanted to be known as only the best
Strong contenders rise above the rest
Starting gossip so as others to discredit
However when questioned deny they ever said it
This is the life of a dealer of drugs
Often surrounded by a group of thugs
Tryin to take what isn't theirs
Actin out like they don't care
Until one day and the tables are turned
Karma has begun it's what was earned
Why am I here, what's in it for me
All this black and white is there anything else to see
What's behind those doors, let me escape
Black or white I don't want one choice
There's nothing in it for me
Just let me be free
"Love"
So I said it just once
Now I have found out
It's a casual mess, that's used as a trap
Causing nothing but damage
Oh, don't you love me?
Until the tables are turned
They say it matters but it's just a weapon
Used by both sides
That's why I will never say it again
So please just stay away
I said to be with you I would die
But to be away from you, you would die?
This was my choice, I chose to have destructive bliss
But I have been here before
So just take your departing kiss
as fair as fair goes
a fair is a place
where people take rides
if you are expecting fair
you'll be taken for a ride
equality you say don't be fooled
nothing ever measures up
when you pit one thing against another
nothing is ever fully the same
not even identical twins
there’s always the slightest difference
we live in a fair is foul
foul is fair world
ala Shakespeare, we judge harshly
only to quip, 'that's not fair'
when tables are turned
as fair as fair goes
and that's not fair
don't get stuck on a ride
if you do find yourself
moving in uncontrollable motion
try to hop off or enjoy the ride
as fair as fair goes
and that is unequivocally
not that far...fair
In olden days folks seemed to care
About friends and strangers everywhere
Though things were often in short supply
There seemed enough to “make it by.”
An attitude of community seemed to prevail
Especially in times of great travail.
Being neighborly was common then
It reached beyond next of kin.
In this day of constant haste,
There’s never a moment most have to “waste.”
Is “waste” really the appropriate word?
Does helping a neighbor seem so absurd?
It seems we’ve lost a needed trait.
We seem to have not a moment to wait.
If we, however, are ever despaired
Would we then wish that someone cared?
It’s odd, somehow, that when the tables are turned,
We find ourselves wishing more compassion was learned.
That “learning” which then is so desired
Is often by many not acquired.
When my days are over
and the good Lord calls me home.
When I reach the pearly gates
and for my lifes accounting I do wait.
Will my account at God's bank of good deeds
be full or over drawn?
For my sins do I still have a debt I have yet to pay
or have I paid my way as I've gone along each day?
Will St Peter let me in the pearly gates
or have my sins earned a debtors fate?
This was inspired by Elliott Bowe's poem When the Tables are Turned.
If only you knew what you did today,
Would it all change words of yesterday?
Or did it all happen just so you’d learn?
You can see better as the tables are turned.
The lessons we learn seem to come at a cost.
What we learn weighs against what we lost.
Things keep moving, time marches on.
Thing that are lost become what we long.
I wonder was it worth it the price paid.
All I left behind I wished could have stayed.
The sun rises up to greet this new day.
Memories haunt the events of today.
I know there’s no sense living in the past.
You can never outrun the shadows it cast.
You woke up today life passed you by.
Maybe you just forgot how to try?
I find myself older yet I lost some trust.
It was left in the rain and started to rust.
Once it is lost it’s so hard to get back.
I try some new cards from off of the stack.
It doesn’t seem better but it could be worse.
Maybe my destiny has plotted this course.
I don’t expect anything I see what’s to come.
I see what I need and try to grab some.
DOG DAY AFTERNOON
Old hound takes a nap in the shade of the trees
No pep, no sap, no afternoon breeze
He's much too lazy to chase the neighborhood cat
Who sauntered on by, and smugly sat
She taunts and preens, this feline brat
Hound opens one eye, scratches this and that
Too lazy to notice the bothersome cat
So Miss Cat curls up to take a nap
The hound, the cat, snooze side by side
Till the afternoon sun bids the day goodbye
Old hound wakes up, yawns and stretches
Miss Cat wakes too, her behind itches
They groom, and lick and scratch their fleas
No modesty, they bathe with ease
Then the hound stands up, with change of heart
He starts to growl, that's when trouble starts!
Miss Cat perks up, the tables are turned
She attacks full force, her neighbor is spurned!
Now things are as normal, as they can be
Old hound chases Miss Cat...right up the tree!
A sense of loss is a terrible feeling,
it leaves a hallow pit in one's stomache,
feelings of hoplessness daunts the spirit,
Loss, most people don't want to know it
and many run from it,
Loss means that there has to be a new beginning,
when the tables are turned around,
and the promise of winning becomes intoxicating,
Then loss would have been a passage paid for better things
to come.......
They come in all shapes and sizes, large and small
Just trying to get through this world, trying to survive
But they all have one trait
Beaten down to the ground, once stood tall
Might be crawling, but still alive
They crawl away and wait
Wounds are licked, the scars will always be there
Blood is lost, the war that will not die
Once the hunted, now becomes the hunter
Tables are turned, their dreams become a nightmare
Tooth for a tooth, eye for a eye
They were not made that way by nature
The body weaken, the mind grows stronger
Learning from past mistakes made
Slowly waiting for that day
The yesterdays have passed, now come the future
So that they price will be paid
Could well be Judgment Day
What goes around, sooner or later comes around
When the giver becomes the receiver
That is how it is when life is the teacher
When peace and tranquility are found
Making the deceiver become a true believer
And the healing of a wounded creature
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