the demidiety
of the household,
demands
the sun....
he craves for to bask
in glorious heat....
and have,
the world adore....
his corrugated, gargoyled  blue-grey skinned beauty.
as well it should...
he is....
after all....a rex....
of the mau, bast,  line.

and me, his  loyal
human factotum....
i am here to....
           open the blinds...

insurmountable
undefatigable yet
sitting lost for words

my friend you are here
beaten broken and alone
your choice created this

your ******  pride made this
clusterfuck happen  again
you need to hop down

off your tall pristine
pedestal of hurt hubris
and apologise till

your stupid tongue bleeds
then apoligise once more
and hope she listens

then spend the lifetime
making sure she knows you love her
more than that stupid.......

heart, encompasses, soul
acorn & oak my life,my loves
blessed by days better & free
you both a treasure given me.

by the way ...don't forget to
feed the cat...

a monkey
from a barrel
once said to me,
can you appreciate
the absurdity
of a life
run on
the
collation
of wealth.
scrabbling
to find a monopoly.
not caring for
individuality
just racing
to be the last
man standing.
"numero uno"
grandstanding
with a poker face,
always having
to win the race.
hungry hippo,
grasping, grasping
all the time.
no patience for
games,
even life.
just running the board
playing chess,
all the time.
just waiting for the
mousetrap to fall,
kerplunk.
then just left  to
pick up the sticks,
to deal the cards,
for a game of  
go fish.
the mind just
boggles,
at the thought
of the frantic images wrought
by the monkey
and the mind games
he played
so i stuffed him back
in the barrel
where
he now
stays
he
and
his
bamboozling
jigsaw
puzzle
patter.

once i met a man
with a broken wing
a voice of a nightingale
but sad shynesss was his song.

he would sing only when
alone...
yet the beauty of his song
would carry on the wind..
and the earth would stop to listen...

after time his wing healed
he went about his daily chores....the song he sang
forgotten....

the wind howled....and the world went on, but lesser for
the loss of the momentary angelic pause....
the song was lost....and so the beauty too....

but the man had a bumper
crop of apples and pears to make to ciderand perry  that year....the year he was broken.

they are like,
amorphous things,
these thoughts, these half remembered dreams
floating,
like lilypads upon a pond
luscious green rounded fronds and shooting,
ponted drafts of sun....
luminescence, drifting on.
i dream in monet, today.
all fuzzed dots and pastel hues....close up, nothing new
but from a few steps back,
a picture...gorgeous to behold...
let me now... dream....
somemore....mayhap
i soon will see, immpression:
             soliel levent

two...yellow...blue,
now green...of leaf...
of grass...verdant...life
yellow sun...water...blue
now green...breathing...
rustling....soughing...sighing
bright flowered living beings....
two....yellow...blue...

i shall not want,
for love today.
that smile
and smakeroo kiss,
shall see me through.

i shall not want,
for a smile today.
that cheery wave and stumble hop,
that made your floppy hat,
fly and drop back onto your curls.
will have my smile, all day unfurled.

i shall not want,
for a place to be, for,
in your heart, i will nestle
and although,
we will be apart.....
i know you too,
are secreted,
in my drumming space.

my little man ...
i do not want...
i have my desires
all answered by you
and your sire too