When she first met him,
He was so slim;
A gentleman,
To begin.
When she first met him.

When he first met her,
She was so demure;
She'd defer,
Often concur.
When he first met her.

She'd smile on him.
He'd open doors.
She cooked and worked.
He worked and cooked.

Good morning, my Dear.
Good night, my Love.
I got groceries.
Did you get milk?
I called your Mother.
Is your Father okay?
Teacher interviews at five.
I'll drive.
Did you get to the bank?
I made an appointment.
What's the address?
Your sister's on her way.

This was their dialogue
On that day.

She's kind.
He's a find.
He's hers.
She's his.

Ever the twain shall meet.

Just picked up my thirtieth pair of glasses
(perhaps you call them eye glasses).
Progressive, photo-chromatic, temples with wrap around cables.
Same round frames since I was sixteen (first saw them in How I Won the War).
I don’t mess with what works. We fit. No need to look further.
Had my eye on the prize.
They give me perfect sight. And I waited years to get perfect sight.
Always needed glasses. Finally got them when I was eleven.
Big family. Immigrants. No health coverage. So, no glasses.
Couldn’t see the forest or the trees. A genetic thing too.
Several sisters and brothers are as myopic as moles.
Mammy and Daddy never wore glasses (which is not to say they didn’t need them).
All granny glasses are wire rims with a golden finish.
All of mine were. These ones are round black wire rims. I’m being so adventurous.
I remove them (singular is a monocle) to shower and go to bed. I never ask to try on someone’s frames, and I never loan mine for a second (Period)
I also have a face that has grown so accustomed to glasses, that my eyes have surely deepened into my skull. I don’t recognize myself on my driver’s license, health card or passport (Why do they insist on that? I’m never asked to remove my glasses upon surrender of any document for visual verification).

I’ve yet to regret the wealth I’ve spent.
Their cost could pay the rent
For a third world family for years.
It would feed and clothe a village, I’m sure.
I'm not blinded by how good I've got it here.

Take your Seven Deadly Sins,
And butcher them with punctuation.

Capitalize on floods, famines and fires.

Express sickness, war and homelessness.

Parse politics.

Syllabicate and spell out for all to read
The horror of homelessness and apathy.

There.
Nothing's too real we can't fictionalize... marginalize,
Again, and again, and again.

When setbacks happen,
I get on with life.
If I didn't make the cut,
I moved on;
Sometimes continuing along the same path,
With renewed determination;
Or, find a road less travelled.

                                       I crossed the parquet tiles,
                                       Before a thousand eyes;
                                       She gave a polite rejection,
                                       Her friend took great exception,
                                       Before taking my hand in her's.

There were numerous interviews,
When we two weren't the right fit.
I would move on,
Finally finding my hand and your glove were one.
There are no options, but to move on.

Then we got on.

Then she got on.

Then I got on...

Get on with your life

No problem.
Now, if I can only get along
With my life.

I was told if I ate worms,
I could fly.
Ever since, I've stepped over sun-baked sidewalk worms.
I recall eating an orchard apple from the ground.
That didn't end well.
Rockwell suggested frying them.
Hamlet punned about worms travelling through a King.
Don't be called a worm.
Don't worm your way in,
You'll likely find a hook.
I'm forever grounded.
The worm hasn't turned.

Lovlee ladeebug, ye'll nae be flien hame,
Ye're a fine wee red beedel
Tha nipp'd me fleshee arm.
Ye've nae hame afire,
Ye've nae wee ones alane;
Ye bit me lovelee ladeebug,
'nd ye'll nae be flien hame.

The smoke, not the fire,
Got in my eyes;
The idea, not my brain,
Lives on outside;
Our love, not the heart,
Allows us to thrive.
Long will we live
Long after we die.

The running water of time calms life
Bearing fruits of blessings in one's day
Lasting breathing glorified nature as did plants
Sheltering a skin like a sun that shines

Moments of darkness deserves adoration
As one rest so nature rest in a transposing position
Bringing in skillful thoughts to harness human in due time
Greenish plants fade greenish plants rise

Life is a bounteous gift
Like a beautiful tribute to a dream
Up and down the sun rises and fall
Up and down our heart grow like trees

Respiratory a pain as we clasp our eye
Insect inspects us at the night
Their voices makes daylight
To come short for it's nature gift

Written by
Martin Ijir

I thought that we were lifelong mates.
We built sand castles in the air
We rode the Ferris Wheel up high
And looked down on the park below.
We raced the horses on the carousel
And it was always you who won.
I counted days between playdates.

We had so many things alike-
Ideas, dreams and silly games,
I never thought an end would come-
That you, with no farewell, would go
And leave me in the park alone.
You cannot have a tug-of-war
With no one on the other end.

The music lost some of it’s bounce
The horses didn’t prance so high
I never really understood
If it was something I did wrong
Or some other outside force
Had pulled on you to walk away
And leave me in the park alone.

Then suddenly you reappeared
Brand new hair style, altered name.
I knew at once that it was you
And ran to fetch the ball and jacks.
But after just a dozen games
You whispered  “time to go again
And this time with no coming back."

I stood forlorn and watched you leave.
The other kids were saddened too
But I, who walked-the-dog with you,
Was torn in places I thought safe.
I loved you like a special friend.
Your leaving was a kind of death.
I’m orphaned now in painful ways.

I thought a year or maybe two
Of growing up and moving on
Would cure the hollow space you left-
And to a small extent it did.
But every time I pass the park
And hear the carousel begin
I’m taken back to those good times
And I cannot but cry again.
                                                  ljm

I will write for you
one more poem
I will sing for you
another love song.
If you like them
and think of me again,
then forget your pride, darling
Say goodbye to your pride!

I will smile at you
if I am hurt
I will sit next to you
and forget my sore
If you like it
and feel my heart
then forget your pride, darling
Say goodbye to your pride!

I will be the evening star.
I will be in your eyes.
I'll come in your dream
and brighten your face.
Even if you don't love me
then smile a little bit more
and forget your pride, darling
Say goodbye to your pride!

We carry our worlds within our hands

And communicate in time with our heartbeats

We can see the world from above and far away

Or the inside of ourselves in minute detail

Time can be tabled, abstract or meaningless

As we try to find our souls

We adapt to ever change

While love remains the same