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The fakeness of fake reality
is in reality ...
and is of no consequence.
If you, in reality,
are fake
the consequence of the fakeness
is - your reality,
Ipso facto, this consequence,
your - fakeness
should cease, in reality
or - prepare for consequences
which - in reality - won't be fake.

The Fakeness Of Fake Reality   Michael C Crowder 17th March  2019
Just thinking out loud
Unwittingly and surprisingly so often ignored is appreciation.
Of gifts, the love, the nurture received, given in true benefaction.
Even lack of spoken gratitude from the receiver, by the giver it is perceived.
Accordingly that which is given and is conspicuously wordlessly received
from the recipient, bathed in sublime silence, shines the appreciativeness

When physical attraction evolves into the love for each other entirely,
overwhelmed with gratitude for feelings, passion, desire, intrinsic sensuality.
In carnal gratification intertwined lovers, murmur words the moment in time set
as the act of true love, lovers appreciation of each other is a prerequisite,
kindling their deep and profound recognition of the symbiotic enchantment

Individuals have so much in life for which to celebrate in thankfulness
Taken for granted are emotional feelings of those who daily acquiesce.
Actions, items the mundane, all forgotten overlooked values unconsidered,
A list almost without end, descriptions of conceded gratitude left unsaid,
until its familiar benefits cease, revealing immediate impact of gratitude held concealed.

The Quality Feeling Of Thankful         Michael C Crowder         30th December 2018
(be thankful for what you have got as the song goes "you don't know what you've got till it's gone"#joanie Mitchell )
Move on, it is time,
hurts heal best, if left behind.
Relief you shall find

Michael C Crowder 18th February 2019
just a thought
Lying so close to you... my love.... my life
I feel your warmth, see your smooth skin
in moonlights glow....cast over silken sheet,
defines in subtle shadows pale light,
partially veiled..... your sensuous form,
fractional to your captivating...wholeness.
So I..rapt within your especial fragrance,
the very essence of you, that my indulgence is, so drawn.
I regard your soft, gentle, calm breathing,
for me beautiful, nocturnal music, sweet,
written by you, for this, hedonistic night.
Such treasures are future memories, seeding.
I long to wake you, to hold, to love you... be complete.
So enthralled am I, watching you sleeping
your dark hair frames the face I cherish,
as you stir the motion slightly slides the sheet.
your thigh, back, shoulder, the silver moons gleam
exposes your appealing femininity
evoking your caring personality,
you are moving.. sinuously.... towards me,
midst soft murmuring...eventually,
bodies in coalescence curl serenely.
I softly rest my head against your shoulder,
kissing your neck, I caress your breast.. gently,
your warm smooth skin... tenderly moving downwards
slowly you turn facing me, our eyes meet... to betray
a tiny smile from the lips I will kiss... and kiss,
is the silent signal between us.... intimacy assured.
Pushing away the covers, we fondly embrace,
and so aroused, we, as lovers, experience a consensual excursion
towards effecting the ultimate... ecstasy,
fuelled not by - carnal impulse or lust - but along with grace,
an unconditional... true love and mutual desire.

In Love In Memories

Michael C Crowder           January 19th 2019      @scorsby
Through the miracle of meteorology, up high - little by little
parts of me was made, without form within a clouds middle,
and eventually, formed in unique designs, lighter than feathers,
temperature and water work together to produce, a period of weather.
When shapes, never repeated - but in approximation, begin to fall, as snow,
feasibly forecasted, sometimes not so, down on to the surface below.
And so as blanket laid, across town and countryside, fields and city mews,
changing the familiar, smoothing contours, into new landscape views.
The material soft, white glistening snow so miraculously delivered,
at earliest opportunity is introduced to excited shouts, laughter, and shivers.
Fittingly gathered by adult and children's hand, with the goal - to build a man.
midst joyful sounds, travellers moans and snowball fights, the creators plan,
By rolled ball pile and heaped snow I was born, created by many in several places,
some small and really, lovingly made. Others large with various, curious, hats and faces.
All - to stand appreciatively of of the makers time, to create me and proudly put on show.
Winter feeds our lifetime span with cold wind, colder nights and, temperatures low,
we stand as white statuary, where children play, soon - will come the expected day
a thaw, will take our sustainability of cool, and so little by little I, and others go away,
with saddened countenance creators watch as we bend, wither and slouch,
stoically accepting this is, as is. Snowy days will return, snowmen too, I can vouch.
It’s a happy sadness for snowman builders and snowmen too, who together
wait in anticipation for fun and creativity, the joyful side of snowy weather.

From a Snowman
Michael C Crowder 23rd January 2019
From a Snowman perspective
Hold your nerve despite
Decisions, may change your life.
Be sure it feels right.
Celebration gone,

Wrapped packages jobs finished.

Spending overdone.

Pretty paper wrap,

So quickly removed prepares,

Pretty paper scrap.

UK Boxing day mode,

Present boxes packaging,

Collect and dispose.

Christmas perfected.

Feasts  consumed and gifts exchanged,

Nice times  collected.
(just after Christmas Haiku)
If only we could begin again and slow down the pernicious pace
We ruin our oceans, the land, our air even outer space.
If only we avoided such precarious paths that may lead to disparity
If only we knew what action is needed now, to deal with the reality.
Ecologists warned, yet still observe with ever-growing anxiety
the growth of harmful long-term effects on Earth's biodiversity.
If only the air wasn't gravely polluted, so the atmosphere begins to fail,
so wreathed by carbon dioxide layers, extremes to climate may prevail.
If only Earth's lungs cease being shrunk by profits heedless exploitation,
existing relationships are considered scarcely in these aberrations.
If only a solution for discarded synthetics which float in **** hordes
on oceans global drifts, disaster occurs wherever it reaches landfall.
If only we can do something, a belated but resounding universal call,
If only we can safeguard the future before there are no options at all.
If only we could begin again and slow the ruinous pace... if only

If Only

M C Crowder
19th November 2018
I first wrote song lyrics in 1978, song lyrics not so long, but it's message hasn't changed
Before her the open laptop stares
At settled coffee shop young lady
smart appearance nice hair.
Phone close, to hand for just maybe.
nowhere in particular she looks here and there,
as she shares short glances between
coffee shop phone and screen,
An image created of controlled serenity,
around her the tidal increase of customers ebb and flow.
Laptop screen, a document shines out, I'm here.
Momentarily her phone blinks me too
then returns to outward inactivity.
An embryo smile flickers, perhaps a thought
of the fleeting communication, perhaps not,
voices sway back and forth then, spike of a laugh
quickly swallowed by the ambience to give way
to hisses, gurgles of music coffee machines  play.
Young men perch and slouch in fervent conversation
They leave, talking, passing Dad with daughters so pleased
when discovering window side seats, wait in anticipation,
where delivers Dad , then into newspaper immerses.
Girls silently survey the scene, hot chocolate cupped
shortly paper closes, a look, chocolate speedily drunk
to join dads exit swift, wordless and abrupt  
past headphoned staff in crockery recovery.
Incessantly tables change coffee treats enjoyed again,  
The coffee shop laptop lady alone but not lonely
chooses to be, just maybe, happy in her own skin.


MICHAEL C CROWDER         1st January 2019
Visit to a coffee shop in Ipswich UK new years day.

— The End —