Street Faces 2

the girl at the tram stop is young
kinda cute
bit of a hippy

she talks to me of the coal she bought for her hookah pipe
wonders if the tram will be here soon

she’s a little drunk
carries her coal
and two shaken bottles of beer
says she insisted the guy at the shop double bag them
but he didn’t
it broke and she dropped them
from the bike now chained near the stop

she’s gonna leave it there and catch the tram

i pull my canvas shopping bag from my pack
and hand it to her
she demurs
says it’s too good
i let her know i have more

then i give her a smoke
we light up together
and talk of inconsequentialities

the tram comes
and we ride it together

i tell her to have a beautiful life
when i get off at my stop

so much fun to read...

And a hush was heard to fall across, well, actually not, in that, to my understanding, the term hush is used to designate a perceptible lack of sound, and as such, would seem to be not a phenomenon which is heard, as such, but perceived in a non-sensory manner as a comparative lack of such sound, and therefore perceptible more as a recognisable difference in level of sensory input from one time frame to the next following a marked event or point in time which can be used to pinpoint the change from one such frame of time and the one following, so hearing such a phenomenon as a hush fall, if an incident without mass as such can be said to fall, but this would be a serious digression, would not reasonably be considered to be a possibility, and as such…..

Most if, not all, of the ambient sound which had been audibly present in this place up to the current point in time appeared, in an audibly perceptible manner, and not by becoming visible, to have diminished subsequent to the aforementioned event in such a way as to cause a noticeable lack in said sound comparative to the perceptible levels of sound prior to the aforementioned event.

just my way of thinking

A friend once suggested to me that it’s easier to be beautiful in the dark.

I disagree.

It’s easier to be beautiful in the light.

In the dark you can’t hide behind your appearance.

oops.

I once thought to rehearse for life

But curtain call came too soon

And I was forced to ad lib

Future echoes

I fear that I shall
Run out of words
That there are only so many
Times
Just so many
Ways
That I can tell you
I love you
Before the sincerity of
That phrase
Will be attenuated by the
Repetitious redundancies of our
Inadequate language
That we will become
Inured
To our own
Limited
Expression of that which we both feel

How then can I trust that an
Acquired numbness
Of your ears to those words
Will not translate to a
Numbness of your heart to
Their intent

How then can I let you
Know that you are the
Other half of my
Self

How often can I then say

I love you

Between now and the end of our lives

And have you know
I mean it still

Pretenders - a pantoum

Poets trying to impress poets
Writing poems true to form
Twisting and turning their intelligence on display
Like I do for you today

Writing poems true to form
Using clever construction terms
Like I do for you today
But don’t take them too seriously

Using clever construction terms
Creating displays of impressive vocabulary
But don’t take them too seriously
They who compel by cunning display

Creating displays of impressive vocabulary
Pretenders proving what we already know
They who compel by cunning display
Shown for what they are

Pretenders proving what we already know
Twisting and turning their intelligence on display
Shown for what they are
Poets trying to impress poets

Remembrance day

I miss you, old man
As I sit here remembering
The day we met
Right here at this bar
The bar we’ve met at every year since
Recognising something in each other
That brought us together

There we were, old man
Remembering together
As you do on days such as that
Such as this
Fresh back from the parade
Drinking together
A generation apart
Closer than many could be

You told me of yours
I told you of mine

You spoke of trenches
Of comradeship
Of that feeling you all had
The patriotic call
The belief in what you were doing
When it began

And then you spoke of horror
Of bodies
Of bloodstained mud
Of mortar fire and midnight rifles
Of disease and cold

You spoke of disillusionment
And then of comfort taken
In bonds made between those that were there
And the feeling beneath
That of all the wrong that was done
It was done for the greater good

And I envied you that conviction, old man
That comfort
As I told you of fear
Of hot jungle rain
Of confusion
Of silent death creeping through trees

I told you of times with no comfort
No sense of right and wrong
Just alive
And not

And there were things I didn’t tell you
Though I know you no doubt knew
And I thank you for not asking
For allowing me not to speak

Of villages destroyed
Out of suspicion
Or of children shot
Out of fear

And of…

But I looked for you today old man
Unsure if this year would be the one
Knowing your time would come some day
As they all do
Realising I had hoped it would be later

Always later

And I miss you this year, old man
But still, here I sit
A glass of neat whisky next to mine on the bar
And I’m listening to the world change again
Hearing people make that call again
Wondering what tomorrow will look like

I miss you, old man
Old friend
But it’s possible I might see you again
Sooner than either would have hoped