Are dreams meant
to be mastered?
I doubt such a plan..
Try and recall all the
dimensions we frequent in REM.

Bedrooms and hallways it’s always the same..
Uncomfortably lost
in an eternal maze…

An institution of collective dreamers, all trying to escape!
Then quickly forgetting
when we awake..

What is that voice that is not us,
Why are we hiding and gathering all this stuff?

Nature always has a plan
somewhere in the DNA
of being human..

inspired  by“Blame It on Kristofferson” written by Byron Hill and John Wilken,
released 2010
(lyrics below)
<•>
A young teen listens to the
folk/rock during the Sixties,
five few years later,
now all growed up and living, crazy,
on Bleecker Street, the very same,
where these songs were being sung live,
by the artists, songwriters & friends
on the streets’s bars ‘n cafes

And Judy sings a ballad, mysterious,
‘bout a Marianne and all the tea in China,
words written like it was a poem,
and the infection was silent transferred,
still ‘fected, even now, in days sooner to
be reporting to heaven’s door, this blessed
curse will be unrelenting coming along,
we blame it on
Leonard Cohen

Knew the words, learned the secret chords,
which was easy, a-direct line between us,
knew where he got them holy tunes, and the
words he stole stealthy from our prayerbook,
went to Montreal, visited his home,
it was no accident, just the hand of god,
but don't blame the divine mystery being,
nah~nope, half~century, later, this dope
still blames it on,
yeah that’s right, on
Leonard Cohen

And here we are, the two of us, probably
smiling, gesticulating and gesturing, who
in fact is truly responsible for our crazy gene,
that pursues us, to create,
to mate words with
music of the deep soul, and here me be,
I am,
grateful grasping for each latter day to birth a new creation,
going out smiley & feeling kindly and fulfilled, now more than ever, and
zero doubts that the person at fault, fully blaming it all on my Canadian soul brother,
Leonard Cohen

Tea flows like the River Thames,
While tutting spreads like wildfire
At queue-jumpers
And umbrella-shirkers,
As passive-aggressive notes flourish
Like ivy on garden walls
A POLITE NOTICE:
Your parking leaves much to be desired.

———

Digestive biscuits dunk and drown
In piping hot Tea at 4 o'clock sharp,
Followed by a national moment of silence,
As Scones wage their silent war
Devon versus Cornwall;
The cream-first heretics
Face jam-first purists,
While the cucumber sandwiches mediate,
Their crusts banished like medieval traitors.

———

The weather forecast foresees
Cloudy with a chance of small talk,
And a 90% probability
Of complaining about the weather.
Shorts and sandals brave December,
While summer coats guard
Against the August sun,
And somewhere, someone
Is wearing socks with sandals.
Ooh, Suits you, Sir!

———

Red buses pass red buses
Followed by a ritual of waiting,
Until the bus arrives
Five minutes late, of course.
While Big Ben counts the moments
As patience is wrapped in politeness,
Where every grumble is a nod,
Until the next apologetic shuffle.

©️Lizzie Bevis

some sounds and guttural expressions,
unique property of individual & groups,
no, won’t explicate this  
too much further
but…

anyhoo, in the realm of naked laughter ,
undisguised, unhooded,
a modest-ly hand-covered giggle,
primarly but not exclusively,
the propety of the feminine wile,
so much so, a ‘girlish giggle’ needs no
hyphenation, or hydration,
just  imagining grinning
eyes and lips, crinkling
and the ability to easy while
through one’s
nose breathing

well understood it is the
la feminine,
this witty twitty
in the provence, of women,
particularly the younger at heart
who titter with the glee
of reckless uninhibited unlimited
gig-gig-gigl-ling-ling
(N.B. young st heart is an ageless concept)

the Frenchies in their
Frenchified (1)
(alt.; frenchfried) ways
call a giggle, a puff of laughter, (2)
which sounds so modestly ladylike,
but in the US of A, a girl giggle,
a really good GG,
needs not be so demure,
and can possibly extend into a raucous cackling infectious,
yet discreet
uncontrollable belly slapping laugh,
given the kerrect circumstances

love me them GG’s

serpent eats its tail,

time weeps in endless circles,

forever undone.

We don't need no education!
said every Gen X'er I know.

They should have said yes to
the education,
and no, to thought control.

We watch in exasperation as our,
World spins out of control.

We blame it on the boomers,
and they blame Millennials.

Why blame the children for the sins of their fathers.

While they shelter and cower,
in fear of the world they built.

It's time for you to live-
Or should I say die with your Guilt.

Trinity is near 80 years gone,
seems like everyone has a trigger for the bomb.

Let us all pray their addled brains,
or palsied fingers don't shake.

And blow up the whole ******* World,
By mistake!