WE ARE EACH OTHER

I slip into
your gestures
as if

they were my own
the ones
I loved

adopt that
certain tone
that could only mean

Brian and
that
"Alright...Bud!"

your voice
walks
inside my head

I listen to
the footsteps
of everything you say

here I adopt your smile
use it as
you would do

the kindness
in your eyes
reflected now in mine

see sometimes
even I
forget your death

by becoming
you
bit by bit

you live inside me now
and we still exist
as brother to brother

the one
grown into
the other

outside a new day
blossoms
into being

walk with me as one
my eyes will see
for you

a time that can be
never known
by you

I tell the dawn your name
this is
my brother

She is emotional,
Her heart rules her mind,
Her tongue too is controlled by her heart
Tears fall from her eyes like Niagra Falls,
With her tears and screeching voice she makes matters from molehills to mountains,
Her family doesn't give in because she is right,
But because of her behaviour,
She must have the last say and win whatever may come.
When she is in tantrum mode I try keep a distance,
I agree with her to everything she says,
Hold my silence,
And when she calms down,
I become her counsellor,
I make her see the other side of the coin,
She realises her mistake and promises to not go off the handle,
Alas!Her heart never listens.
If you overlook her flaws she is kind and helpful,
Always ready to give a helping hand.
27/1/2025

do what makes you happy
and the rest be ******

forget the critics
the naysayers
the reviews

forget those who pounce
at first glance with
unsolicited feedback

forget those who wait
with serrated edges
for the unveiling
of your back

forget those who lambaste
and castrate your creativity

or worse, those who
try to help you
improve it

and then there are those who
uplift and support your work

say thank you
and
forget them
too.

forget about polishing the knobs
off the editors of poesy or
the literary brotherhood
and sisterhood

forget about your friends,
your enemies and
your audience
all together

they are a cough drop
trying to cure an illness

do it
the way it was meant to be done:
without obtrusion
without approval
without asking

don’t allow them
to cloud your mind
with judgment
of any kind

do what makes you happy
and the rest be ******.

Sometimes in our darkest times
We are given a miracle of hope
When we want to give up
A thread to something
Comes
Light shining through
A hand reaching out
In the deepest darkness
We need to have faith
To believe
We should never give up
Even in our toughest times
Light will get through
Eventually
Believe
Let that faith light up the world
In the darkness

Though they will not stay long,
Nor, either shall I linger on.
Our bucking days are gone;

Somehow they've reconciled
To be companions and my friends
After years of push and pull between us.

Old Horses are the best,
Quiet now, and patient,
Willing now to stand or ride,
Their patience fills me with content.

MEMORY MOTEL

he burnt his draft card
she burnt her bra
they burnt their bridges

she was always Stones mannnnn
he a big Beatles fan
the only thing they argued over

took off for all that glittered
against their families' wishes
they rolled their own

the War happened
on the telly
kicks in her belly

saw the 60's through
saw through each other
divorced in '72

divorce was now
the war
the long battle

he took the boy
she took the girl
hostages to love

the kids hated
him...her
it

he runs through women
she runs through men
like its some competition

the needle gathers fluff
riding the black shellac
her life badly scratched

the needle falls
upon the floor she
don't know nothing no more

cleans her self up
kicks the habit
a health fanatic

becomes Mrs jones
....un-becomes
Mrs. Jones

now somehow here
in 2000 & 2 they
do the wife&husband thing again

they're happier this time 'round
he still a big Beatles fan
she still Stones...mannnnn!  

*

An almost iconic old couple so deeply in love they give off a tangible glow. I meet them on an old fashioned choo-choo puffing its way north to York. The train was a large catterpillar throwing a boa of smoke over its shoulder. I fell into talk with them and admired that their love must have been deep and profound to have lasted to this stage of their life...they laughed at this impression they gave and told me all about how they came about and how they came to be together so that their souls almost glowed with happiness and delight. The story they told me in deliciously thick Brooklyn accents was not the story I had expected to hear but an even better story than I could have ever possibly imagined.