River man takes his journey
through mearending reeds,
he's  got truth in his pocket
a diary of promises unsated.
For a shilling he take you to
hangmans corner,
a place to clear your head,
for a throw of the dice
he show you
the secret of life itself,
but beware of his wry smile!

fill the mug with coffee to fall asleep consciously
close the windows to vent out my delusion
put on a red sweater to render rainy days a blush
stack up the clocks to overlap the tik toks

compose a song without giving it a name
take pictures without inserting a memory card
An old-fashioned way to say “I think about you” is to say
“I keep my diary everyday.”

Prolly will too, judging from afternoon's frore air.



(sonnet #MMMMMMMLXXVIII)


Blue skies are but a memry now fr'intents,
And is black even littered with stars' tale?
I canna look.  Twas frore when we'd avail
Our selves of talk where afternoon was thence
Chance for rehearsal, late as we'd for sense
Put cafe tables side by side, light pale
With greyish region clouds nor blue's detail
But gone ere dinner was put on, and whence?
Ah, how all we'd enjoyed is lost as twere
To wasting hours which never but sift through
Sweet minutes spent with brothers, and in tour
Dear friends.  I had espresso with Dad too,
Spent two bucks on a cuppa coffee fer
The chance wi' friends, and did I, LORD, seek You?

08Apr18b

Ear


Art is yours to interpret.
Poetry is yours to hear.
A diary is yours and yours alone to write.
Music is always near.


(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.

great love is not the only love.

My dear old flame
I'd sigh with your name,
follow you
then lost in your eyes.

No they aren't as clean
nor as deep or as blue,

they aren't the sky
or the ocean
or pools.

oh no, not pristine, luster of glass.

The closer I'd peer
into them
by the end
You'd appear to me, but an ***.

I record my thoughts like a diary
I do so in the form of poetry
And I read through them a lot, you see?
To remind myself of these feelings
…
I don’t think that’s healthy