I should have thought,
It would be easier,
Somehow haha,
It is neither here nor there,
A coincidental chain of things,
Setting in motion
Something akin to,
A dreamless day,

A wooden sort of way
Of going about,
Cumbersome,
Turtled,
Thiking about,
Nothing while,
Fixing blye eyes,
Analysing speech patterns
A superior sense of spatial awareness
Coupled with sartorial elegance,
That could be counted in kilowatts,
He/she is the incumbent ruler of a blank,
Where are our chaperones?
This is not the kind of party I had envisaged,
A monster is as much as you allow it to be,
So take me to solitude.

I remember black guys in junior high
used to say that
and I didn't know exactly what they meant.
I still don't.
But it's an expression that sounds
like it'd make good rhymes.
Here goes.

"I'm wise
not in disguise
I may be shy and a wiseguy
but at least I'm not Captain Blye
Pay the way to the real magic bounty
apparently occasion during the
Vietnam War it seemed implied
by the underlining of the soul article content
in that Bruce Springsteen on the
cover of Time Magazine issue that came out that
seemed to start off the revolution
of the summer of '68
an issue I picked up with the underlying
when I landed on 1st St.
an open psych ward that summer
So one of us is a traitor and the real
Fletcher Christian - that's all the
underlying meant - of all of us
who were into the name.
But it sure wasn't me, I'm not a Navy type
butcher, though big girl there, Army brat
through and through
Yes Sir Captain Blye
I'm arise
and not in disguise
or Louis Nye
and Sigma Chi
and the dunce the Fly
and the desire to move up to the sky
and us guys
who like to get a little high
****, the squares call it,
though to me it's natural
so I won't make any lately
and about thinking I'm one of the guys
Yeah the Mighty High of Joy's song
Captain Blye
a man named SKy
and the fictional Joe Clay called a ****
back at the U of Ketchum
I think was it's name
but that was just implied."

So ver ek loop ruik ek die droogte, die son se gebak, maar ja  ek loop met gemak, al vinniger en vinniger die pad langs.
My droom het waar geword om n ver pad langs te stap en te gesels, met wie anders as met myself, die wind, die vertes en die mindere gebergtes.
Die wind waai om my heen, dit kreun en steun, maar dit leen my n tyd vir alleen wees in my gedagtes, ag daar is net geen klagtes.
Soos ek stap lag ek klip hard want my hart voel so vry, so vry soos die wind wat my verby kry.
Dan haal ek die wind weer in en sing n lied van blydskap teenoor my Heer, my dapper Held en stap Maat.
Soos die dae verby gaan en die vertes nader kom, verstom ek my aan my hart se gejubel van blydskap en geluk.
My hart is vry so ver soos die oog kan sien, ek loop in vreugde en gemak, dag na dag  in n natuur so hard maar tog so sag.
My hart smag na my liefde, die maat van my lewe, so ewe te vroeg weg gevat, maar stap, stap hy saam en ons hou net aan en aan tot ons weer by mekaar gaan staan in n veld van omhelsing en blye verwelkoming, hand aan hand net aan die Anderkant.
Ja my hart is vry so ver soos die oog kan bedui.....
2017-11-08

Lunch at Denny’s

With a Side Disorder of Screaming Child and Bellowing Mother


Pajama Child, running and screaming: “Bye-bye. Bye-Bye! BYE-BYE! HEY!!! BYE-BYE!!!!”

Momma, not looking up from her MePhone: “Don’t run, honey. No. Don’t run! I SAID, ‘DON’T RUN!!!”

Pajama Child, standing in her seat and chewing her food over diners’ backs: “Wlb. Glb. Blrt! Uerk! Blye-blye!

Momma, not looking up from her MePhone:: “One…!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!­!!!!!!”

Pajama Child: “NO! CAN’T MAKE ME! NO, YOU! NO, NO, NO, NO!!!!!!!!”

Momma, not looking up from her MePhone: “Twoooooooooooooooooooooooooo…!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Pajama Child, throwing food: (SHRIEKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!”)

Momma, not looking up from her MePhone: “NO! I MEAN IT THIS TIME! One………!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Pajama Child, running and screaming around the restaurant: “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!

Momma, not looking up from her MePhone: “Twooooooooooooooo…!!!! I mean it this time!!!! Twooooooooooooooooooo…!!!!!!”

Pajama Child: “NO, YOU! CAN’T MAKE ME! BYE-BYE! BYE-BYE-BYE!”

Momma, not looking up from her MePhone: “Do you need a spanking? I mean it this time!”



I blame the teachers and Donald Trump. I mean it. No, really.  I mean it this time.

die sprankel lied, nou verlore
terwyl ek op hartseer se drumpel staan
n blye hart, nou my verbode
sê ek totsiens aan geliefde dae saam

die koue klou van diepste smart
druk my hart teer
die traan druppels, stroom my af
ai, die gekreun van die kind maak seer

die kinkel stem en glansende lag
die wysheid in haar stem
dit mis ek só, haar warm hand
wat vryf so oor my ken

roep my, toe?
ek hunker so om jou weer eens te sien
om tyd te spandeer, net ons saam

roep my,
ek kom aan gestap
die hemel bring ek saam.