A fear in the certainty

A bliss in the forgetting!

In the falling light of day
I read the old man a book.

Stories of love, enmity, deceit
Jealousy, betrayal, sacrifice
All from one author’s mind
One penning hand
Some very short some too long
But nowhere do I find
He has taken a stand
On virtue and vice
Right and wrong
Belief faith
Destiny fates
Nowhere asserts
If he is theist atheist agnostic
Nor invokes god
Praise or curse him.

I read and the old man nods

in the falling light of his day!

Rehashing the rare
Out with the new,
In with the old.
She's always had a thing
For the things that exude
A quirkiness and a bucolic charm
The smell of old books
The black and the white
Good ol' Chaplin, James Dean
And the Sound of Music
The Beatles, a tape recorder
High-waisted pants
And the gramophone
And a rustic old bar
With a gruff bartender
Who's off his rocker
But he'll double up as your therapist
And for the boy with the dark brown eyes
Who looks across the bar at her.
And smiles.
It's all black and white again
Except this time,
It isn't her favourite Casablanca scene
But a white screen
And a thousand particles
Microcosmic
A milieu of
Unfathomable numbers float
Through the atmosphere
Connecting her to him.
And she doesn't want that.
She's always had a thing for the old,
But he makes her doubt that.

Disclaimer:

These are my private opinions.
Feel more than free to disagree.
They've made Life better
For me.

Eat breakfast.
One half hour less of sleep in the
Morning will keep you
Steady and strong until lunch.
It'll be worth it.
Oatmeal packs a good punch.

Don't mention how little
You've slept to anyone.
Unless you operate dangerous
Machinery or rely on being
Rested for the safety of
Yourself or others, no one
Will care.

Map the different nationalities
At your workplace.
Learn these phrases in their
Respective languages:
Hello.
Great work.
Watch out!
Making someone feel welcome at
Work is a gift worth giving.
Bridges build
Friendships. Friendships alone
Make a life worth living.

Spend some money on a
Special water bottle.
It'll inspire you to drink from it.
Drink enough to keep hydrated;
Not so much that your
Breaks interfere with your
Obligations.
Don't challenge your rights,
Or your boss' patience.

Leave the toilet looking a little
Nicer than it was.
Pick up that piece of paper.
Wipe the soap from the sink.
Aim carefully.
Others will follow your example.
Ask for hand disinfectant.
Use it.

If you feel overwhelmed by
Stress, or have personal matters
Occupying your thoughts,
Take a toilet break.
It is one of the best places on Earth to
Clear your head. Take only
The time that
You need.
Even brilliant minds have  
To act to succeed.

Enough on toilets.

Fall in love with a colleague.
Don't ever follow up on it.
Pick a favourite secretary or
Cleaning lady, janitor or
Security guard, etc.
That warm sensation in your chest
When you see them, might just
Make a bad day better.
Theirs too, when you
Smile their way.
Just remember:
Harassment is for the weak and
Insecure; a little attention never
Hurt anyone,
But don't push for more.
Keep it innocent.
Keep it pure.  

Find your least favourite co-
Worker. Make friends.
Start rehearsing that 'old buddy'-
Feeling when you see them.
Say hello. Smile.
You'll be in for a surprise in most
Cases. Trust me, you will find
Golden graces. You'll get to love
Them; you'll look for their faces.

Turn to your seniors.
They are a tremendous resource.
They deserve to be needed.
They deserve your respect.
They know how to repair more
Than we ever will.
They know what it's like
To be younger than them.
They'll have time for your
Questions,
But none to ****.

Quit smoking. Together.
Go for a coffee break.
Go for a fruit break.
Go for a water break.
Together.
Pat each other on the shoulder
With every smoke you don't have.
Take the stairs. You'll feel so well. 
Quit in pairs.
Not in a shell.

Put up humouristic posters,
Tell jokes, make
Friendly fun of each other.
Anything that provokes laughter.
Time will fly. Bonds grow stronger.
You'll look forward to work. You'll
Live happier; longer.

Do more than just enough.
You'll feel so much better about
Your skills. And others about you.
Any job is worth that little extra.
Few are worth doing twice.
Judge your efforts through
Your own eyes.

Be poetry. Don't just write it.
You'll need less ink and paper.
The art will live forever.
You'll be thankful for more.
You'll think higher of yourself.
You'll see the world around you
As the beautiful place it can be.
Be the poet and the poem.

You'll never feel depressed.
You will never be alone.
You'll be the single richest person
That you have ever known.

I love old books—
         their smell,
                  soft and softly mottled pages,
                  font-faces,
          and carefully illustrated frontispieces.

My bookshelves are lined:
         old copies of ancient classics.

I love buying old books—
         the lost treasures they are,
and the lost treasures they hide:
                      tram tickets,
                      letters,
                      not­es,
    two-dollar-notes,
              and scholarly students' scribblings.

I have some books I fear to open
         for fear they'll fall apart.

There are some who love old books—
         their possibilities,
                 malleabilities,
         and superficialities.

Their bookshelves aren't lined.
         But rooms of reams of bunting, and tables of origami.
                          (or soft and softly mottled picture frames)

They love buying old books—
         not for wisdom,
         nor connections to ancestors.

They've no fear of giants' shoulders;
         whole worlds are torn apart.

She opens up once
In a trance
She believed she could dance
The shelf was no place to hide
A talent so brilliant
So resilient she was
With her posture so bold
Never taking kind to the cold
But she seldom complained
And she was never strange
The time I left
Like I tore her last page
If she would only understand
I don’t live life with a back up plan
Its been two weeks
I feel more ashamed
For the actions i've proclaimed
To be mine
Though they rhyme
I cant help but sing out of time
When she looks at me like that
I feel the pages turning in my head
Though nothing I say
Can open you up my own
I just realized
When we dance so close
I feel less alone

Your past is your story.
I will never demand you
Rip a single page
From it.

I'm a very big boy.
Tales of your yesterloves
Scare me as little as
Anything;

Only hurt as much
As they should.
Never burn a picture
To please me.

Never paint over a
Secret, never camouflage
A single regret as
Bad luck.

Skeletons. Dust and bones,
Dead and harmless.
Tell me everything.
Unsensored;

No blur nor bleep.
I want to know
What shaped you into
Someone so

Deserving of my
Interest. Let me into
Your attic. Turn out
The lights.

I'm a very big boy.
Even my ghosts are
Scarier than
Yours.

there is something
so very wrong
with this marble
when a four year old
gets into
the back seat of a car
and asks

mumma,
who is ISIS?
and why do they want to
stab us?