Bored Room Meeting …

Asked the question, you

Screw up your red-cheeked face

In a chimpanzee

friendship-confirming grimace,

Wave a dying-fish gesture at

Paper-strewn tabletop,

Offer, limply:

“We’ll come to that point –

In a moment …”

Behind you, your colleague

Removes bent-framed glasses,

Wrestles with and

Finally opens an

Obstinate window.

Thank God!

I needed that distraction:

That distraction and

the air!

The Big Issue

Image result for the big issue

Bodiless message

Reached me around sun-up:

No place, today,

To rest, to think.

Dragged my bones to

The Markets of Faith,

En route to the

Hall of Candles;

Met a man

Who offered

All that he could,

The sum-total, in fact,

Of all that he was –

He wanted my trust,

But needed my money.

“Why aren’t you working?”

I dared not ask,

Too

English-polite to offend.

I have been carrying a cross

For a life time now,

One that I should lay

Next to somebody’s name.

I should ask them

That very question:

Why isn’t this man working?

What will you do to help him?

What are you doing for this local,

Here-every day, everyman?

Why would you rather commit my money,

My future, that of my family,

To those we do not know.

Before the Rain …

This is the rain

That isn’t really rain –

That comes before the rain

That will be –

But why the fuss?

Didn’t we always know the

Summer wouldn’t last forever?

If it wasn’t what you wanted

Surely there’s only your self

To blame for that?

December’s insanities,

Brewing in the still room

Begin to giggle, little

Secret red bubbles;

The dark that isn’t real darkness,

That comes before

The dark that is:

What’s next?

 Really?

You have to ask?

Surely that’s the question

Best left to answer itself?

“What Will Your Verse Be?”

 

This  comes courtesy of blogger Dyan Diamond who posted this

http://wordpress.com/read/post/id/45100490/1504/

Being both curious and not a little inspired I had to look it up, first the wonderfully imaged advertisement, then the Walt Whitman poem which is voiced so perfect-well by Robin Williams.

So ,take a peek at the ad, remember I am not a great fan of I-pads (but shamelessly use one when it suits me!) and then read the original below.

Muse with me and as I did, whether it is better to have the images put before you – as is done so creatively in the ad – or to simply imagine your own.

I don’t even know what I think myself any more.

By Walt Whitman 1819–1892 Walt Whitman

Oh me! Oh life! of the questions of these recurring,
Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill’d with the foolish,
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the struggle ever renew’d,
Of the poor results of all, of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me,
Of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest me intertwined,
The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?
                                       Answer.
That you are here—that life exists and identity,
That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.

My Cold-Silver Princess

This question-prompt night, I feel the

Travel-far wind of her passing –

My cold-silver princess moon –

As it gently settles its precious

White-ice powder

On my aching soul and

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