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Martyn Thompson Aug 2011
i - Introduction:
ii - Lismore Park
iii - The Road to Maidenhead
iv - Town Square
v - Contradiction, contraband
vi - Saturday Afternoon
vii - The Circus Comes to Town (Sunday)
viii - The Show
ix - The ringmaster
x - The Fracas
xi - An incident at Upton Park
xii - No ball games
xiii - New found…
xiv - Nearly done
xv - Another time…

i - Introduction:

Come friendly bombs you’ve still to hit
The place whose name means quagmire
The town, the place that’s left bereft
Of soul, of spiritual fire.
But hurry, hurry, please be fast
For the crack dealer plies his trade
With slight of hand and cunning
A ghetto he’ll have made

The peroxide perms have now all grown
And muster outside shops
To wait for the be-suited sales rep
With his rocks and his alco-pops
They’ve all spawned offspring of their own
Fifteen-year-old cradle pushers
Who sold their souls in return for hope
To thirty year old cradle snatchers

Come friendly bombs it’s plain to see
The vacant, empty faces
The lifeless eyes, the pallid skin
The love that leaves no traces
The love that lasts a knee trembling minute
Outside Harry’s and Sluffs
A love that smells of emptiness
O they cannot get enough

Come with me, look over there
To the sculpture in the mall
The stainless tree with it’s stainless birds
And stainless birdsong call
A bird sings and the town all stops
To see from where this sound will show
A bitter disappointment when learned
It was played on the radio

Community service on the airwaves
To draw the crowd together
A song played, a one hit wonder
Reminds us nothing is forever
The sterile radio station plays on
Opiates to which we should yield
And bare our souls and be grateful for
The song of Bedingfield

ii - Lismore Park

The sight of a child playing in the street
Is one of day’s gone bye
But Lismore Park sees them out in droves
Stealing cars and getting high
The twelve year old sent out to play
Whilst mother takes a knap
But really she’s having it away
For a fiver and a brown wrap

The party at the house next door
That never seems to stop
The men all come and go and paw
Girls in this knocking shop
But halt weary traveller, stop!
Come sit and rest your back
The bench awaits you on the green
And the deluded maniac

The man who knows what’s wrong with you
And how to make it better
As long as he keeps his soul filled up
With cheap White Lightening cider
Six large cans for a five-pound note
From the corner shop near the school
An offer really not to be missed
And to make the drunkards drool

A songbird sits on the climbing frame
And sings his cheerful tales
A tune too much for our dear lush
The maniac exhales
The songbird sings and fills the air
With a loving string of notes
That reminds the sitters on the bench
There may still be a hope

A radio plays ‘that’ song again
Should you dare to forget the rhythm
The bird has flown away now
Fed up with this hypnotism
The airwaves are now filled with dross
Thanks to the flat opposite the green
The weary traveller moves on
“Better days has this place seen”

iii - The Road to Maidenhead

O friendly bombs do try to miss
The sweet blossom, the fragrant smell
The flowers, the green grass of the parks
The havens in this hell
Be careful around the Jubilee River
With it’s wildlife and sculpted hills
For a walk in this very man-made place
Will surely heal your ills

But spare no mercy for the superstores
That pollute and destroy our thoughts
“If it’s not on the shelf, we haven’t got it…”
The familiar assistants’ retort
Take no prisoners with the office blocks
That lay empty year after year
For they clutter up the atmosphere
And have no value here

O friendly bombs, o friendly bombs
The cabbages are all grown
They read the Sun and sing along
To the radio’s dreaded drone
Whilst in their vans they speed on by
Jumping all the lights
To price a job – a small brick wall
Based on a thousand nights

The car showrooms… the car dealers
Stack ‘em high and sell them cheap
Chop-chop salesman, soften ‘em up
The rewards are there to reap
Finance, part exchange or cash
Anyhow you like
“No sir, not me sir…
…I’d prefer to use my bike”

The bustle of the weekend crowds
The steamy traffic queues
Stare too hard at that red car
And suffer the abuse
Overtake the blue one now
And make him toot his horn
See him raise his voice in anger
To satisfy his scorn

iv - Town Square

Saturday morning, seven o’clock
The town begins to wake
A pair of sleeping winos
Dream about their fate
They plan their morning sermon
But who will really care
For what they say means nothing
Less than their icy stare

The busker and the balloon man
Wait to take their turns
To entertain and irritate
And suffer being spurned
By a thousand shady shoppers
Who’ve heard it all before
And probably given hard earned cash
To make them play some more

The trickster and the barra’ boys
Set up all their stalls
Selling mobile phone covers
And fake branded hold-alls
Adorn your phone with logos
Hankies for a pound
“Yes sir, we’re here on Sundays…
…(Providing there’s no police around)”

Grab a baked potato and sit
And watch the folk go by
Some will have you in hysterics
Some will make you cry
The man on his double-glazing stand
In his suit and in his tie
The perspiration on his head
Watch him wilt and fry

The songbird settles on the wall
And sings to our delight
A merry sonnet that will inspire
Dreams we’ll have that night
The wino shouts his sermon now
The bird has paused his song
This post-war sprawling Hooverville
Muddles slowly along

v - Contradiction, contraband

On the steps of the library he screams aloud
Through a mist of smuggled gin
“You’re all fools, the lot of you is ****
I’ve not committed sin…”
“It’s not my fault I’m a lush… a drunk
I don’t choose to live this life”
“You’re all wrong in carrying on
It’s you what’s caused my strife”

In his wretched form he abuses the world
Pooh-poohing this and that
A skunk telling the world it stinks
The polemic polecat
“Society has robbed me of everything
And left me less than whole”
“The only day that’s good is Thursday
When the postman brings me dole”

On Friday he meets his dealer
To fuel his pickled mind
The man with the van on Saturday
With the spirit and the wine
By Monday, he’s all skint and broke
The weekend has passed him by
He takes his place on the library steps
We shake our heads and sigh…

Every week the same routine
The same routine again
Like clockwork his life ticks on by
The suffering and the pain
But he tells us it’s all our fault
We’re the ones not right
But it’s very easy for him to say
The man who’s so contrite

The children watch him puzzled
It’s more than they can bear
“It’s very rude…” their mothers say
“To stand like that and stare”
But what, do they expect their young
To ignore this fool a mumbling?
For they will see it for what it is
A stormy weather warning

vi - Saturday Afternoon

I sit on a wall in Slough with friends
Sharing the Dutch export
Watching and laughing at the world
And it’s variety of sorts
A happy bond that we all share
The joy of simple things
Come friendly bombs and gather round
Watch us while we sing

The friendly bombs you call upon
Are they straight off the shelf?
It’s my belief, my firm belief
The bomb is in yourself
Ticking slowly by and by
Just waiting for the code
To trigger you and trip the switch
To make the bomb explode

We watch the people from where we sit
The hellholes they’ve all made
They don’t live they just exist on
The edge of a razor blade
Stop! Step back and take a look
It’s not too late to change
And become what you really want to be
An icon of your age

Over now to Langley Park
To sit and bathe in the sun
O friendly bombs please wait a while
Until this day is done
But what will tomorrow bring my friends?
And will it come too late?
Something that may save us all
The bombs may have to wait

A sedate sleepy Saturday
Away from all the crowds
Share a joke, a ****, a smoke
And laugh together loud
The sun warms our sombre souls
As on our backs we lie
Staring as the clouds roll by
United under the sky

vii - The Circus Comes to Town (Sunday)

Halt now, wait awhile please
Stop the counting down
Today the air is charged with joy
The circus comes to town
Must have arrived last night we think
Under cover of dark
And settled down and pitched it’s tents
In the grounds of Upton Park

The queue to purchase tickets
Trails far along the road
No. 53 offers cups of tea
From outside her abode
The crowds are mum, they say not a word
As they wait their turns to go
Inside the circus big-top tent
And sit and watch the show

We settle down and take our seats
With an ice-cream and a coke
But wait, where are the circus clowns?
Is this some kind of joke?
A wall of mirrors fades into view
And puts us in a spin
Reflecting all the bright lights
The colours and the din

The ringmaster enters, cracks his whip
And hands out little slips
“Everyone’s a winner” was
On every body’s lips
The clowns they all appear now
With a modicum of fuss
Hold on just a minute now!
The clowns we see are us

A spotlight points up to the gods
At the top of the trapeze
A giant money spider glides
Down with greatest ease
He touches each and everyone
All paralysed with fear
And hands out ten pound notes to all
Then promptly disappears

viii – The show

A strongman strolls out slowly with
A length of iron bar
A leopard spotted leotard and
Moustache sealed with tar
He looks around the big top with
A menace and a sneer
Surveying all the audience
He seeks a volunteer

The white van man he raised his hand
The tattoo on his arm
Said this man must not be crossed
To do so would mean harm
The strongman bent the iron bar
Across the van man’s back
Then invited him to strike him down
An unprovoked attack

The van man clenched his hand and hit
And hurt his mighty fist
A statue of the strong man shattered
Turning into mist
The van man stood and stared in fear
The mist it gathered round
And carried out our hero driver
He hardly made a sound

No-one clapped we all just stared
Our faces ghostly white
The strongman re-appeared and looked for
A second stooge that night
No-one raised a hand in fact
No-one said a thing
The strongman shrugged and vanished…
Empty was the ring

A knife thrower was the next to appear
And seek the help of one
With nerves of solid steel and courage
Secondly to none
Down came a fallen woman
Who said she had no fear
A knife was thrown and pierced her skin
Her right large ear-ringed ear

ix – The ringmaster

A second knife it struck her chest
She didn’t seem to weep
She didn’t seem to be in pain
Although the knife was deep
A third knife struck her arm and then
A fourth it struck her head
The knives that should be missing her
Were hitting her instead

Horrified the crowd looked on
Without a fuss or row
The woman now all full of blades
Politely took her bow
She then went back and took her seat
And never said a word
Not another word she said
And not a word she heard

A magician was the next to charm
And thrill us with his tricks
He pulled a rabbit from his hat
Then sat it on some bricks
He then threw watches at this beast
That grew to a great size
The rabbit caught them all and juggled
Them to our surprise

But here’s the rub when we all looked
At places on our wrists
No watches were there to be seen
A cunning little twist
The magician cracked a whip and put
The rabbit in a stew
Which vanished there before our eyes
Vanished out of view

The magician he announced that he
Alone did have this plan
To mystify and amaze us all
With his clever hand
Indeed he was the ringmaster
That owned this circus troupe
That terrified and petrified
Our frightened little group

x – The Fracas

A swarm of bees engulf us now
And cover us with honey
The ringmaster cracks his whip again
The bees all turn to money
Then suddenly the fight begins
As we grab this flying stash
Filling up our purses now
With the hard-grabbed cash

The ringmaster, a clever man
Calms us with his sigh
“There’s plenty here for everyone
…And more than meets the eye”
Suddenly a flock of doves fly
Sweetly through the air
They then attack the baying crowds
Pulling at their hair

Then with a deafening bang, a crack
A flash of burning light
We all cascade towards the floor
The circus out of sight
Confused we all stare around
Thinking it absurd
This bizarre spectacle should vanish
Gone without a word

I look from face to face to face
Whatever could this mean?
We all are laughing nervously
How stupid have we been?
We talk about the day’s events
We talk and talk some more
A voice booms from out the sky
“I’ve opened up the door”

“I’ve brought you all together now
To pander to your greed
To watch you take from fellow man
Deny him what he needs”
I reach in to my pocket
For the money I did place
It reads “Admission: 1 adult
To The Human Race”

xi – An incident at Upton Park

That week the local paper ran
An exclusive full-page ad
“Faland’s Travelling Circus Troupe”
“The most fun ever had”
But no review was there to read
To tell of our event
The strange encounter with this circus
To which we all went

The following Sunday we meet up
In groups of three or four
Since that incident in Upton Park
The spectacle we can’t ignore
No-one knows quite what it means
I don’t think that we’ll ever
Understand all that happened here
That brought us all together

Perhaps there is a deeper message
Given on that day
Faland may be telling us
That we have lost our way
He simply used us all as tools
To illustrate our folly
That had now become too serious
A risk to things so jolly

Every week now we all gather on
This hallowed piece of land
And this is very odd because
Nobody makes the plan
The idea comes to all of us
A self-ignited spark
And draws each of us in turn
To meet in Upton Park

We picnicked then we all played games
Then talked about the rain
We toasted our new friendships
And vowed to meet again
The bombs, the bombs they’ve all slowed down
Compassion saved the day
This newfound love we now all have
Must surely pave the way

xii - No ball games

The joy did not take long to spread
Across our grimy frowns
And bring a little sunshine
To lighten up this town
Happiness is upon us now
The whole of Slough-kind
Depending on how you look at it
And on your state of mind

The lush upon the library steps
The wino on the bench
The Publican and Landlord
The ***** serving *****
They all wear smiles and laugh a lot
And speak of wondrous things
A songbird perches on the fence
And merrily she sings

The children, o the children
How they sing and dance
Always being friendly
In any circumstance
They have no care for politics
You’ll see it in their face
They want to play with everyone
Who’s in the human race

Meanwhile back in Upton Park
The townsfolk meet again
But there’s no talk of horror
Or suffering and pain
Instead though how a monument
Should be erected in our names
And pulling down the signs
That read ‘No Ball Games’

The bombs have all stopped ticking now
And line up by the wall
And every now and then they clang
Just to remind us all
If we get too complacent
And don’t respect our friends
We’re marking down the seconds
To our bitter end

xiii – New found…

We shared our food and shared our tales
Life stories we all told
They made us laugh they made us cry
Left us warm and cold
The suffering we did speak of
Helped us understand
How fellowman and woman kind
Dwelt in other lands

We laughed at tales of folly
And stories of the past
Stories that we are in awe of
Stories that will last
For another thousand years or more
And travel on the wind
A gentle breeze that talks to us
Thrilling to the end

Gathering momentum
Our stories travel far
Picked up and told by new folk
Under glowing stars
They bring warmth and humanity
Softened by the rain
They travel back to each of us
To be re-told again

Who’d have thought this loving joy
This beacon in the dark
Would begin upon the grass
Of hallowed Upton Park
The greed has gone or mostly so
Now happiness is here
We’ve seen the light and now must spread
Our messages of cheer

Looking back it hardly seems
We could have been that way
Not caring if each other lived
To see another day
This new found near Utopia
Must spread across the land
And we must stand to offer all
Our warm and guiding hand

xiv – Nearly done

The story is now almost told
Of how a strange event
Saved us from our selfish selves
A message heaven sent
With cunning tricks and sleight of hand
The error of our ways
Was written up in greasepaint
Shining through the haze

A strange di
I wrote this in about 2004 - loads of literary influences in this poem. It speaks for itself really. Having read through it, I think I ought to revise / review and re-write some of it, but this is the original.... yay!!
Tate Morgan Jul 2015
A collection of thoughts and prayers for our friends their families and the whole of humanity. Written by 76
voices from around the world.

The biggest star shines, proudly announced he arrived
My lord Jesus Christ was born to witness the truth
He granted identities to all of us, lost and unknown
Taught us love, peace and harmony, while forgiving all
A. Amos - United States

An ancient mission, a veiled plan
The Son of God, the son of man
A virgins wonder, a humble birth
The King of heaven is born to earth
Adanette - United States

Winter creeps in as fall fades to an end
frost coats the ground and snow begins to drift
tis' the time of year
Christmas is near.
Alicia Schroeder - United States

Let peace on earth begin at home
And spread to friends far and near
Bringing together all those we love
"It's the most wonderful time of the year.
Ana Sophia - Canada

Little excitement triggering at night
What Santa will bring for me this night
Little wish of mine; do listen my lord
Let Santa bring this time happiness for all...
Anne - India

Egg nog, holly, and Christmas wreaths
Pointsettia's white and bright red leaves
Fat, jolly Santa and Jesus' birth
A bright star arises and alights the Earth
Anne - United States

Adorable boy wiping the blur window pane with his poky hands,
and have a wish that santa claus will bring joy through this window,
Gracefully chanting jingle bells, he became santa for his parents,
so santa given the happiness from this side of window
Anshul's Vision - India

Dreamy hot chocolate kisses
steamy snowflake sprinkled wishes
lists of who's been naughty or nice
blend together this wintry spice.
April -United States

We have no jingles or Santa Clause
We have no snow
Still we have spirit of Christmas
Love and hope
Avinash - India

Christmas in Australia,
Sun, summer heat, Christmas outside
Backyards, and Barb-B-ques
Yule tides under the stars
Barb - Australia

Soft Smells of frankincense.
pine needles of fresh scent of bright Christmas Trees
Frosted windowpanes Magical time of the year
with children playing in the snow
Benita - United States

The season of love and joy is upon us
Sunshine or snowfall, no matter the weather
Smiles and laughter, and good cheer among us
When friends and family gather together
Brian - United States

The count down starts
for the best gift ever received
let peace reign in your hearts
as you wait to unwrap it.
Cassie - Kenya

Time is right, the time is near Christmas will soon be here.
Bells will ring and folks will sing "Oh holy Night all is bright
Children will wait with anticipation for Santa to come
Hearts will be warm, and love will abound Christmas is here.
Cheryl Davis - United States

He is the gift.
Jesus Christ,
He can have our burdens lifted,
By the gift of Christ.
C. Lee Battaglia - Unites States

Wind has licked the poor trees clean
All brown and bare in desolation
All except the evergreen
Soon to be sold as decoration
C. Rose - United States

The snow flakes dance in the wind
Shining lights like a magical dream
For those holding on to promises
To find in these times their wishes.
Dayran - Malaysia

Flash floods of snow replace once august plains of paper white
Mystic rivers freeze over as December lets her true colors shine
Incandescent light spreads throughout the ethereal winter night
As chariot of Christmas comes to life for yet another fiery ride
Doorman Dan - United States

A Merry Christmas poem
Always brings me Advent Joy
As we laud the Christ Child
The Birthday of the King
Douglas Raymond Rose - United States

Shattered crystals float to the ground
Stillness lay upon sweet earth
Warmed by angels silent sound
Jesus love bless yuletide hearths
E.Noodle - United States

To the poor and sick this year
I wish a bit of Christmas cheer
From the homeless and forlorn
Stable where a child was born
Fabian G. Franklin - United States

Christmas shines shimmering bright.
Stars spotlight a dance with the snow.
To welcome a merry season with cheer and light.
Bringing peace, joy and warmth for all to know
Fran Marie - United States

Snowflake kisses, full of holly wishes
peaceful rejoices bestowed upon fellow man
warmth of hope abiding a Joyeux Noel,
& muchly good cheer throughout the coming year
Frieda - United States

Lights shimmer,bells jingle on Christmas Tree
Half asleep eyes waiting for Saint Nick
Straight from the Pole wrapped with love & care
The gifts arrived our homes with a conjuring trick!
Frozen Eyes - India

The night before Christmas is known to be magical
With snowflakes in the air and Santa in the fireplace
And a smile plastered on our child's face
When the morning comes, all the magic will be done
Haley Wilson - Canada

Distance keeps us far apart,
Despite the cheer within our hearts.
The Spirits of Yule sing far and wide,
Let their songs brighten our minds.
Hime no Yuki - United States

Stuff your face, there's more to come
Before the games, the laughter and fun
in lively repose we'll mark the feast
With music and song and family treats
IanJohn63 - United kingdom

This reminds us of the true spirit
of the season.
It is much more than the material dreams dancing in our head
peace and love are the real reason
Jacob - United States

Unpack socks,yes this year is dying.
No child on this day coming should be crying.
I would be lying if I said Christmas isn't exciting.
All joy and glee,wouldn't you agree?
John - England

When children dream each year of Christmas,
Whispers from river and mountain pass --
Touching each language, corner, and part,
Wishing this year's dreams unwrap each heart.
K.L.Goode - Canada

Family visits,
where strangers find each other.
Long lost smiles reborn,
to sister and to brother.
Kusa Da Shin Avira - United States

Shining great star from heaven into hearts
Intimate wooden barn with manger in place
Celebrate the birth of Christianity and Jesus
Who died to keep humanity sin-free and safe
Lady Ann Graham-Gilreath - United States

We danced the year's temporary rhythm
Hitting the high or low steps to each tone
Like black and white in a composition
Let's find forte in harmony made
Laury Hitch - Ghana

The festival of lights is near
"Happy Hanukah" a wish we will hear
Every sundown, one candle more
A wish for peace in our hearts will endure
Lydia Shutter - United States

Bright patterned paper parcels waiting
with ribbons gold, green and red
while children peaceful dreaming sleeping
of the stockings hanging on their bed.
Mad Englishman (Clive) - United Kingdom

Drifting droplets over Christmas Tree
Spreading white foam of cracking snow,
Santa stood beside distributing to all free
****** Mary blessed divinity from above.
M.A. Rathore - India

Son of God, salvation of man
At last unto the earth is brought--
Who will remember, indeed who can
Unless final Ipod or Bratz is bought?
Mark Teague - United states

Thoughts toward the poor, sick or dying
Yet another year passes without some knowing
Of Christmas cheer, frolics for them too annoying
All symbolism meant only for those who are growing
Martin - Ireland

The gift of love.
The gift of peace.
The gift of happiness
May all these be yours at Christmas
MBUYISA - South Africa

To one and all I would grant a gift,
blessings for the holiday season.
Hearts overfilled with a joyful lift
from the angels bright holy beacon.
Michael Greenway - United States

In this season of Christmas
Through the eyes of the child
We look up and do believe
In Peace and Mercy mild
Momzilla - United States

Better than men than me,
Make their own mark
on world
and modern history
Moriarty Mesa - United States

Red and green dress our doorsteps
as our holiday dreams of
smiles and laughter, friends and family
fill our hearts with warmth and love
Ms Jewel - United States

O heart, receive Him! "There is no room in the inn."
May that cease to be our case.
May our blessed Savior be most welcome
in our most holy place.
Nautili - United States

Flakes of snow have come to remind,
Regrets, sorrow should be left behind
Prayers, hopes n joy to everyone's mind,
Family come together for dinner and wine.
Nitesh Poojari - India

The rhythmic snow cascades and falls,
Its beauty overshadows the polar air,
And welcomes the Christmas season,
In a glorious dance the waltz …
Nisa - United States

Christmas morning, early, dark, silence abounds
Coffee in hand, watching the deer on the lawn
Waiting for the family, and their rising sounds
Is there anything more peaceful than Christmas dawn?
NoelHC - Canada

Writing out a list, while sitting in my room
Christmas is approaching everyone soon
Decorating my beautiful green tree
Fairy on top, presents underneath
Noodlebumble"Sye" - Scotland

The wheel of joyful tidings on my mind.
We celebrate love and the gift of life
Our hearts rid of hate and squalor
As we dance to the sounds of Christmas
Norbert Dwayne Weweh - Ireland

We came under the inspiration of poem
To celebrate you, often nobly, is your season come?
Delighted hands trenchant: you reign!
Creeping towards the Bethlehem to be born again.
Onyia-ota, Kingsley C. - Nigeria

The problem with his beard
when the child isn't looking
is the rustle that is heard
when he opens up the stocking
Pete Langley - United kingdom

A fire in the heart as angels sing
Young and old caroling sweet and clear
Wishes for love, and Peace on earth
Merry Christmas & a Happy New Year
Phibby Veneble - United States

Where the cold bites and snow may fall
there is always a lesson of beauty within for us all
hold the hand out, next to your own
see the unity of the season,that brings us home
Poppy Ruth Silver - United kindom

Let the tolling bells bring peace on Earth
Be the only fire, your yule-log's warmth
The only red, the cheer of holly
The only fallen … a snowflake's folly
Pryde Foltz - Canada

Excesses of the season have commenced
Remember those beyond your fence.
Beyond the reunions,parties and the food
Find in in your heart to do some good.
(Rachelle) Mara Lin - Philippines - China - UnitedStates

As we celebrate in feast this Christmas Day
may you heal our land and the sick
for your touch of love strengthen the weak
a perfect gift for Christmas Eve
Racquil - Philippines

To each in season warmed at the hearth
Soft carols play as we serenade by the fire
The little babe come of a ****** birth
We come to offer blessings of your desire
Realmwriter -United States

This Christmas cold with winter chill,
snow flows free upon the hill,
within the home, warmth from the hearth
parents give love and children laugh.
Richard Allen Beevor - Cyprus

Star of Bethlehem, snow in the air;
red suit, chimney soot, Santa beware.
The stars all sing from high above
and Christmas wraps my heart with love.
Richard Williams - United States

The warmth and love of those amassed
Gathered 'round the family tree
Brings cherished tales of Christmas past
And gifts us with sweet memory
Rita L. Sev - United States

There shone warm light on a cold night
with the angels over head
Keep watch along with the Wise-men
over this blessed child's bed
Ron - United States

Sharing the joys of sharing
sparkling how life meant to give
receiving the blessings of each day
hallmarking the key role of sharing and giving
Roy Mark Azanza Corrales - Philippines

Stockings hung,carols sung
Tinsel on the tree
Don't forget to thank the one
"Twas born in Galilee
Samuel Dickens - United States

The poinsettia alone in a darkened room
Faithfully again begins to bloom
No particular rhyme or reason
Just a beautiful reminder of Christmas season
Sharon L.H. Kelly - United States

A sunny celebration under a winter sun
never put up a tree, no presents
yet holiday spirit excites, brings fun
amidst cake, tales and dear ones: lovely time spent
Sindu - India

I found myself following the Christmas Star
To Bethlehem not too near or too far
Throughout the dessert I roamed
To meet the Christ Child at the Stable Home
SmittyJas - United States

Hoist the glass to men we once knew
those of us who passed on before
The moments shared with precious few
whose souls we knew in times of yore
Tate Morgan - United States

A feathered mess of ****** bird,
Let's feast the corpse no room for third,
Dear pudding flame cause acid nose,
Let's run it off St. Nick's repose.
Thomas - Ireland

Hope is born on Christmas Day
Bow our heads give thanks as we pray
Peace to family and all our friends
Peace to those across all lands
Tina Kline - Unites States

Another year has come to pass...
With many an opportunity missed...
Yearly resolve comes around so fast..
preceded by yuletide bliss
Timothy Woodfin - United States


Spirits or Christmases past,look on those who celebrate today
With the celebrants of Christmases to come, in life's circular way
We think of those who've past on gone, tell of times past we did enjoy
Knowing someday the child will talk of us, whose engrossed in his new toy..
Tomas O Carthaigh -Ireland

Remember Jesus love of mankind
As we celebrate the holiday
With family and friends
Spreading cheer and love to all
(Tootsie Harvey Novels) Valerie L Harvey - United States

Our lord was born into flesh and bone,
dazzling star above his manger shone,
came to pay our debt though vastly great,
that we may enter the pearly gates.
Valormore De Plume - United States

Dry sands in this winter season
Lonely may seem at heart we rejoice
Hiding vibrant happiness for some reasons
Life in this dome, still we enjoy
Willyam Pax - Saudi Arabia /Phillipines

With smiles all on the children's faces
old folks prepare stockings for the fireplace
Churches singing Amazing Grace
preparing his birthing place
Wordman - United States

"Lovebirds dance with Christmas song
Divine message make them happy
Children clatter ding **** ****
Christmas made them quite sappy"
Zainul - Bangladesh

From our family to yours please try to be good to one another this year. The Cafe is a refuge for us all to hang out, share our lives and dream

Merry Christmas Everyone !!!

Tate
Can a thought or feeling be larger than a universe? Love is the only trait that is worth remembering because it is meant to be given away selflessly. The recipient is as happy to receive it as you were to give it! To my friends those of you whom I hold dear If you'd like to be added to this years Canon message me. I will do my best to add you to this poem.
Summer pleasures they are gone like to visions every one
And the cloudy days of autumn and of winter cometh on
I tried to call them back but unbidden they are gone
Far away from heart and eye and for ever far away
Dear heart and can it be that such raptures meet decay
I thought them all eternal when by Langley Bush I lay
I thought them joys eternal when I used to shout and play
On its bank at ‘clink and bandy’ ‘chock’ and ‘taw’ and
    ducking stone
Where silence sitteth now on the wild heath as her own
Like a ruin of the past all alone

When I used to lie and sing by old eastwells boiling spring
When I used to tie the willow boughs together for a ’swing’
And fish with crooked pins and thread and never catch a
    thing
With heart just like a feather—now as heavy as a stone
When beneath old lea close oak I the bottom branches broke
To make our harvest cart like so many working folk
And then to cut a straw at the brook to have a soak
O I never dreamed of parting or that trouble had a sting
Or that pleasures like a flock of birds would ever take to
    wing
Leaving nothing but a little naked spring

When jumping time away on old cross berry way
And eating awes like sugar plumbs ere they had lost the may
And skipping like a leveret before the peep of day
On the rolly polly up and downs of pleasant swordy well
When in round oaks narrow lane as the south got black again
We sought the hollow ash that was shelter from the rain
With our pockets full of peas we had stolen from the grain
How delicious was the dinner time on such a showry day
O words are poor receipts for what time hath stole away
The ancient pulpit trees and the play

When for school oer ‘little field’ with its brook and wooden
    brig
Where I swaggered like a man though I was not half so big
While I held my little plough though twas but a willow twig
And drove my team along made of nothing but a name
‘Gee hep’ and ‘hoit’ and ‘woi’—O I never call to mind
These pleasant names of places but I leave a sigh behind
While I see the little mouldywharps hang sweeing to the wind
On the only aged willow that in all the field remains
And nature hides her face where theyre sweeing in their
    chains
And in a silent murmuring complains

Here was commons for the hills where they seek for
    freedom still
Though every commons gone and though traps are set to ****
The little homeless miners—O it turns my ***** chill
When I think of old ’sneap green’ puddocks nook and hilly
    snow
Where bramble bushes grew and the daisy gemmed in dew
And the hills of silken grass like to cushions to the view
When we threw the pissmire crumbs when we’s nothing
    else to do
All leveled like a desert by the never weary plough
All vanished like the sun where that cloud is passing now
All settled here for ever on its brow

I never thought that joys would run away from boys
Or that boys would change their minds and forsake such
    summer joys
But alack I never dreamed that the world had other toys
To petrify first feelings like the fable into stone
Till I found the pleasure past and a winter come at last
Then the fields were sudden bare and the sky got overcast
And boyhoods pleasing haunts like a blossom in the blast
Was shrivelled to a withered **** and trampled down and
    done
Till vanished was the morning spring and set that summer
    sun
And winter fought her battle strife and won

By Langley bush I roam but the bush hath left its hill
On cowper green I stray tis a desert strange and chill
And spreading lea close oak ere decay had penned its will
To the axe of the spoiler and self interest fell a prey
And cross berry way and old round oaks narrow lane
With its hollow trees like pulpits I shall never see again
Inclosure like a Buonaparte let not a thing remain
It levelled every bush and tree and levelled every hill
And hung the moles for traitors—though the brook is
    running still
It runs a naked brook cold and chill

O had I known as then joy had left the paths of men
I had watched her night and day besure and never slept agen
And when she turned to go O I’d caught her mantle then
And wooed her like a lover by my lonely side to stay
Aye knelt and worshipped on as love in beautys bower
And clung upon her smiles as a bee upon her flower
And gave her heart my poesys all cropt in a sunny hour
As keepsakes and pledges to fade away
But love never heeded to treasure up the may
So it went the comon road with decay
RH 78 Jul 2015
Covent Garden.
Midnight.
Revellers and tourists combined.
The market is heaving.
Last trains are leaving.
An eclectic mix to broaden the mind.

Covent Garden.
2am.
The place is pretty quiet.
Pubs have closed.
Clubs.... God knows.
The tourists have frozen their riot.

Covent Garden.
4am.
A drunkard stumbles by.
Flood lit shops.
A rickshaw stops.
The backdrop against a reddish
sky.

Covent Garden.
6am.
Blokes lurk down Langley street.
The glint of a blade.
A blur in the shade.
Lava tip of cigarette falls to a strangers feet.

Covent Garden.
8am.
Commuters emerge from underground stations.
Workers prepare.
Visitors beware.
Pick pockets attracted like gravitation.
Spent a night shift at Covent Garden in London people watching.
Bob B Oct 2021
When we delve into our past,
Stories of odd eccentrics abound.
Of course, you'll find them even today
If you dare to look around.

Have you heard of the Collyer brothers--
Two brothers of strange repute?
Homer and Langley were their names.
Their oddness one cannot refute.

Born in the late 1800s,
The two were only three years apart.
Although they were peculiar,
Both of them were rather smart.

Langley studied engineering
And chemistry; Homer, law.
When the family moved to Harlem,
They lived in a brownstone with ma and pa.

After their parents separated,
The two brothers chose to reside
With their mom and even continued
To stay there after their mother died.

The brothers had a strange compulsion
To collect stuff and even more stuff.
And when that happens, for many people,
There is never, ever enough.

They lived in "nests" that they had made
In debris that was piled as high as the ceiling.
Most of us couldn't comprehend
How the two could find that appealing.

Langley built ***** traps in case
Inquisitive neighbors tried to break in.
People on the outside knew
That something strange was occurring within.

The brothers refused to pay their bills,
So naturally, it came to pass,
That they would have to make do without
Electric power, water, and gas.

The two had 25,000 books,
Mountains of papers and magazines,
Fourteen pianos, two organs--
Surely the most bizarre of scenes--

Baby carriages, bicycles,
Human organs pickled in jars,
Thousands of bottles, cats, banjos,
Chandeliers, and parts of cars.

Homer was found dead in an alcove.
He died of starvation and heart disease.
His matted gray hair hung down to his shoulders
And his head was resting on his knees.

Later, the body of Langley was found,
After a two-and-a-half-week lapse.
Apparently, he had been killed
By one of his own ***** traps.

Over 120 tons
Of junk was removed from the brothers' dwelling.°
Incomprehensible!
And you can bet that it wasn't sweet smelling.

So hoarders beware. Listen to
The wake-up call before it's too late,
Lest you follow the path of the Collyer
Brothers and suffer a similar fate.

-by Bob B (10-24-21)

°Some sources say 140 tons.
r Feb 2014
At eight weeks old, she was our newly rescued mixed beagle pup.

Noah named her Daisy. Not a name I would have chosen, but certainly as sweet as

memories of Grandma's homemade molasses
bubbling in the old iron kettle brought out from the smokehouse for only one day each year on a crisp fall morning.

By sixteen weeks it was evident that all involved in the rescue didn't know squat about Beagles. After a frantic thirty seconds on Google, our mistake was quite clear in the form of about five hundred red and black and tan photographs.   We were the proud but red-faced and slightly shocked owners of a "**** Dog". Yep. And Daisy was her name-o.

Two years and seventy pounds down the road, I sat in my morning solitude spot this day with a good mug and a good book watching the nut hatches, house finch, and Black-capped/Carolina Chickadees tearing that special blend seed up as Daisy patrolled the yard for squirrels with one eye and her nose to the sky watching for the lone and clever Rock Pigeon scout that always precedes the flurry of flying rodents raiding my feeder. I can't help but to smile as Daisy glances at me through the deck door glass to see if I am admiring her skill and diligence.   I am.

This being a Sunday before the dreaded M word day, I tend to lounge lazily around the house in my worn Clapton pj bottoms and hol(e)y Langley T-shirt. My shadow follows me from comfort to comfort spot knowing that I leave a trail of odd snacks from my kitchen perch to living room couch to study to lazy bed, and back again. She is showing a bit of winter fat.

To be continued....

r ~ 9Feb14
Nat: consider these just working notes and observations on Daisy for the requested Daisy Companion poem once the elusive poetic fever strikes again.
petuniawhiskey Oct 2013
I rode to the cemetery,
this Sunday morning.
I chained my bike to
the last log of the labyrinth.
I danced softly in the
center.

I walked up that hill,
while cars passed for
a burial service.
I wondered if I was rude,
not dressed like everyone
else, dressed in black.
I was afraid they could
tell, that I was looking
for names.

I hated feeling watched.
Even earlier when
I sat at the bar
of a diner for breakfast.

I kept to myself,
smiled to strangers,
so they knew that I
was friendly.

Could they tell that
I was hurting?
Could they sense
my quench of
thirst?

As I look too see,
and raise my head,
the corn rows are
to the right.

To the left,
a distant barn pillar.

The last time I felt
this way was six months
ago, or so.

In the month of April,
the Spring breeze
was there the ease my head.
I slept in the sunshine at
the top of the graveyard hill.
There next to me, a gentle,
wandering soul.

As I look to my right again,
barbed-wires keep
me from the corn.

This bench that I rest my body on,
engraved where my langley-legs
drape the edge,
"KEEP SEARCHING FOR A HEART OF GOLD."
In a handwriting that was too
familiar.

This shoots my compass magnet
North, South, East, and West.
19 years later, an Autumn
Breeze sways my way.

Sometimes the sun sets
when I am restless.
Other times, I will not rest
until the sun rises.

When I saw the name Ripley,
to the right was Bliss.
Behind the bush of pink flowers,
a rose bush I could only hope,
I did see the name Shannon.

I saw Melvin near Cahill.
I saw Hutchins, Tobin, and
Soloman.
I saw Thomas, Owen, Jones,
Donahue, and Roberts.

I searched for the names
that called to me.
They thanked me, they
apologized, and I did
likewise.

I searched for a name
like mine, and then
fell in love with the name I
was given.

As the burial service continued,
I followed the bits of grass-path
and gravel road, back towards
the labyrinth.

I am fire,
here to shine,
here to give warmth
to those who need it.
And one day, I too,
shall burn to ashes.

If they must, they might
try to simmer the flame.

Colorado forest fires
are a natural way to give
the Rockies a chance
to resurface.

And yes, my eyes have traveled
from stars to soil,
and now my eyes are set towards the
Himalayan, East.
It Can't be Langley?
in the undergrowth
both
of them
men in black
bringing the aliens back
tracking me
it can't be Langley
Rachael Fuller Aug 2010
The Chapel was lighted by round-headed windows,
Furnished with most heavenly pictures, lively in colours …

… until 1845

Completely defaced and quite plain,
A few fragments of ancient glass remain,
Once a ****** and child,
Once the altar of Our Lady of Pity,
Once a great black marble platform of the Lady Altar

… until 1845

Now it’s plain table tombs of blue marble,
depressed semicircular arches,
several grave slabs and pale yellows,
And Bishop Langley,
with his coffin and bones three feet below the floor

… until 1845

The Chapel was lighted by round-headed windows,
Furnished with most heavenly pictures, lively in colours …

… and destroyed.
Daniel J Weller Jul 2018
You weren't the poetic one, but I just read Kaddish
and thought of you;
           of 1998 beach photo, Sussex somewhere - as I
remember you, perhaps a bit younger;
           of sweet peroxide blonde, hiding brunette. I was
naive to the dye 'til I saw 'the Hepburn shot' - that 1950
something print, you in Rembrandt light,
           or the black beehive wig in family portrait—
1970ish— dicky bows and cocktail dresses - Dad, aged
seven, in a shirt and trousers;
           of youthful snapshots: Portobello Beach, Edinburgh
(4), with parents in Kent (8), your gang of girls some snowy
place (14), painting the house with Raymond in Croydon (20);
           of latter digital images, 2012, more gaunt and wrinkled,
but ever-beautiful - seemingly ageless, as you wished;

           of care and trust and overdone vegetables, thin gravy,
brussel sprout production lines - beautiful, mundane memories
at Cowfold breakfast bar or Langley Green kitchen tops;
           of seaside trips to Shoreham, Portsmouth, Brighton, dogs
homes and holding my hand past the loud ones;
           of picking roses from the garden for 'perfume' - sticky
hands, wet floors and beautiful smells;
           of early morning rude awakenings, met only with cheer
and offers of tea and toast - I still have your butter tray
(hospitable even in death);
           of my brother's wedding, taking time to jive and seem
alive whilst everyone else was dying inside, despite the fact
that it was you, and you only, who should care the most (and
thus, if you didn't, why should we have);
           and of that very temperament, infamous tempers never
shown—at least to us—just pure, kind acceptance and
forgiveness.

           You weren't the poetic one.
           You were; the ninth child of a ****** and his wife
                              the girl with the Scottish accent
                              the wife of an engineer from Mitcham
                              the mother of three, the loser of one
                              the stern face of discipline
                              the BT telephone operator, the masseuse
                              the grandmother of three boys
                              the ageless face of beauty
                              the one I remember best

           You told me you couldn't recall your siblings' names -
I've looked into it. Ada, Jack, Edie, Emmie, Mabel, Joyce,
Raymond, Terence.
Beaulieu, France, July 2018

(to my late grandmother Margaret Rose Olga Weller)
O SAY CAN YOU SEE

by

TOD HOWARD HAWKS


For Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.


Chapter 1

"Would you like another one?," ask the waitress.

"Sure," said Charlie Cumberston.

The band was playing "MOOD INDIGO" then "STRANGE FRUIT."
Charlie loved jazz. He also loved baseball, which was why he also brought THE ENCYCLOPEDIA OF BASEBALL with him to the Village Vanguard every night. And he was passionate about art.

The waitress brought back another Scotch and Soda.

"Thanks," said Charlie.

The Village Vanguard was his home every night since the CIA made him an offer he couldn't refuse.

"You simply know too much. If the wrong people find you, they'll want to know everything you know. If you don't cooperate, they'll stick a barrel of a gun into your mouth and pulled the trigger!"

Charlie had graduated from Columbia College, Columbia University in 1963. He wanted excitement and chose the CIA. He was smart as hell. He quickly ascended to the top tier and was sent to Saigon a year-and-a-half later. During the Tet Offensive in 1968, Charlie was severely wounded. That's when he met Anh, his nurse.

While sipping his Scotch and Soda, he picked up his THE ENCYCLOPEDIA OF BASEBALL to read again about Willie Mays. Mickey Mantle, Ted Williams, Sandy Koufax and many others.

Now the band was playing TAKE FIVE followed by ROUND MIDNIGHT.

The waitress came again to Charlie's table again.

"Would you like another one?" she asked.

"Please," said Charlie.

This was how every evening went from 7 to midnight.

"It's time to go," said Sid.

Sid's job was to pick him up in the limousine at the Waldorf Astoria at 6:45, drive him to the Village Vanguard, then around 11:45 drive him back to the Waldorf. This was Sid's job, seven nights a week.

While he never got drunk from drinking too many Scotch and Sodas, the drinks always made Charlie a bit more than loose. As he entered the limousine, he nevertheless always thought of Anh.


Chapter 2

Sid picked up Charlie at 6:45 at the Waldorf and drove to the Village Voice. Even at 7 the place was packed, but that table, that same table, was always waiting for him.

"Good Evening," Charlie always said to the waitress.

"Would you like a Scotch and Soda?" said the waitress.

"Yes, please," said Charlie. Drinking Scotch and Sodas the rest of his life was better than being thrown into the East River from the Queensboro Bridge with a bullet hole in his forehead, thought Charlie.

The band was playing TAKE THE A TRAIN then MY FAVORITE THINGS.

But Charlie was thinking of a different trip, the trip to Saigon. The machine-gun fire he suffered during the Tet Offensive almost took his life. But Ahn, his nurse, saved his life. As the months passed, Charlie grew increasingly fond of her, and she of him, until fondness became love for both of them. But their love for each other was truncated a few weeks after his release from the Saigon hospital because the U.S. ARMY was going to send him back to the USA to to recover fully. But during those few weeks, Anh and Charlie made love, not only physically, but also spiritually, every nanosecond they could.

"Would you like another one?" said the waitress.

"Please," said Charlie.

The band was now playing SO WHAT then ALL BLUES.

Often, despite the music and drinks, Charlie would slide into memories of atrocities committed by U.S. armed forces during the Vietnam War, some in person, others written up by CIA personnel of which he was apart. The most infamous was the My Lai massacre.

On March 16, 1968, American soldiers brutally murdered in only 4 hours over 500 unarmed civilians including women, children, and old men in the village of My Lai in South Vietnam. American soldiers even took time out to eat lunch. The victims were *****, mutilated, and burned. William Calley, Jr. was convicted by court-marshal of the ****** of 22 unarmed South Vietnamese civilians. He was initially sentenced to life imprisonment with hard labor, then commuted to 20 years, then commuted to 10 years, then commuted to 3 years of house arrest by President Nixon.

"Body Count" became de rigueur. Civilians killed were added to the total of Viet Cong soldiers killed. Competitions were held between units to see which one killed the most Viet Cong. Rewards for the "winners" were days off or an extra case of beer. At this time, much of these activities went unreported, but not unnoticed.

"**** anything that moves!" That became the sine qua non of many commanders whose troops then carried out massacres in their area of operations.

Few war crime investigations were completed by the military at the
U.S. National Archives. The amount of munitions used by American soldiers was 26 times was greater than in WWII. America had unleashed the equivalent of 640 Hiroshima-sized atomic bombs on Vietnam. Two million civilian Vietnamese were killed and 5.3 million were injured. Far bloodier operations like "Speedy Express" should have been exposed but were hidden by the highest levels of the U.S. military. Years later, it was found that this operation killed 11,000 Viet Cong.

"Charlie....  Charlie, are you OK?," said the waitress as she placed the Scotch and Soda in front of him.

"O yes, I am. I was just ruminating," said Charlie.


Chapter 3

Charlie was dreaming about Anh. Would it not be heavenly to have her lying beside him? The Waldorf would not matter. It could be anywhere in the Cosmos. Her scent, her breathing, even the shadow of her lissome body against the large window would arouse him.

"Kiss me. Kiss me again," she would say in his dream. No more war. No more killing. No more massacres. Just love.

The moment Charlie saw her in the hospital, he fell in love with her. Though it took months for him to heal, it was Anh who healed him. Her smile, her touch, her just standing beside his bed made him heal more each day.

When Charlie was released from the hospital, Anh and he made love many times each night. Charlie remembered those nights again and again in his dreams. But when he learned he had to return to Langley and had to tell Anh, tears flowed, flowed so much it awakened him. Charlie had been crying while dreaming. He sat on the edge of his bed bawling for over an hour.


Chapter 4

Another day, another night Charlie had endured.

Sid picked him up at 6:45 and took him to the Village Vanguard. His table was waiting.

This routine lasted 5 more months, but on the night of May 4th, the improbable occurred.

Could it be true?, thought Charlie. Could it be real? What he saw across the room were two young women sitting at a table, one of whom he recognized. It was Anh.

Charlie's heart was pounding, his breathing a tsunami. He sat at his table declining Scotch and Sodas. He didn't recognize the tune the band was playing. He was in shock.

It took almost an hour for Charlie to recover. It was Anh. By now, he was sure of it. Finally, he got up from his table and walked slowly toward Anh. When he reached her table, he said, "Excuse me, but aren't you Anh?

Anh looked up and saw Charlie, then said "Aren't you Charlie?

Charlie said, "Yes."

Anh was stunned. Now two hearts were pounding, their breathings a torrid tornado.

Anh asked her girlfriend would she be okay if she left their table to speak to this gentleman.

"Of course," she said.

Anh and Charlie, therefore, walked to an empty table and sat down.

Anh said, "I thought I'd never see you again." "That's what I thought, too," said Charlie. "What are you doing in New York City?"

"I'm doing post-graduate study in nursing at NYU, but it's summer vacation. And you?"

"That's a long story, Anh," said Charlie.

"I'd like to hear your story," said Anh.

"Are you married?" asked Charlie.

"No, I'm not," said Anh. "Are you?"

"Neither am I," said Charlie. "You saved my life, Anh."

Charlie's remark pierced her heart. Anh's face flushed.

"I fell in love with you the first time I saw you. You healed me," said Charlie.

Charlie said he really wanted to tell her his story, but it would have to be in private. He told Anh he was staying at the Waldorf Astoria, room 719.

"Might you feel comfortable enough to spend the night with me?" said Charlie.

"I'd love to," said Anh.

Charlie's heart started pounding again.


Chapter 5

"Let me just hug you forever," said Charlie.

They just fell onto the bed fully clothed. The room was lit by the night's city lights.

"I couldn't tell you this when we first met. Though I wore a military uniform, the uniform was my cover. I worked at the highest level of the CIA in Saigon. During the Tet Offensive, I was severely wounded and met you when I was hospitalized. When I first met you--even before we first had spoken to each other--I had instantly fallen in love with you," said Charlie.

"Oh, Charlie!", said Anh as she first hugged him even more strongly, then gave him a long kiss.

The talked long into the night, about the past, about the present, about the future.

"T have an idea. First, I must adhere to the mandatory routine forced upon me; otherwise, I will be killed. The good news is that the routine is, in my opinion, lax. My routine is that Sid will pick me up at the Waldorf every evening at 6:45 and drive me to the Village Vanguard where I am to stay until closing time, which is midnight. Then Sid drives me back to the Waldorf. That's it. The way I see it is that from midnight to 6:45 pm the following day, I'm a free man. I've been doing this for years and I've never been checked on, Anh. Furthermore, I need to keep you safe. What do you think?" said Charlie.

"I think both of us will be safe," said Anh.

"If so, we would be able to spend the night together, as well as the rest of the following day, say until 4 pm," said Charlie.

"I agree," said Anh.

"Do you remember telling you I'm passionate about art?" said Charlie.

"Yes, I do remember your sharing that with me," said Anh.

"Well, New York City abounds with art, and you and I can begin to share this beauty tomorrow," said Charlie.

"You're right!" said Anh as she put her arms around around his neck, kissed him, then the two made love as the sun began to rise.


Chapter 6

"Good morning, Anh," said Charlie.

"Good morning to you!" said Anh.

"I'd like to take you to eat breakfast at Tom's, my old haunt when I was a student at Columbia. Then we can take a cab to the Met, as it is often called, to see some of the most beautiful art in the world," said Charlie.

"That sounds wonderful!" said Anh.

Anh showered first, then Charlie.

After both were dressed, Charlie said "Are you ready to head out?

"Yes, I am," replied Anh.

Charlie hailed a cab in front of the Waldorf and asked the cabbie to take them to 112th and Broadway where Tom's was.

"Here," Charlie said, "keep the change."

Tom's, while remodeled, was still Tom's, the same food, the same ambience.
Anh and Charlie ate a full, tasty breakfast.

"Are you ready now to see great art?" Charlie said to Anh.

"I'm ready," said Anh.

Charlie hailed a cab on the corner of 112th and Broadway, and off they went.


Chapter 7

The cab dropped off Anh and Charlie in front of the Met.

"The first piece I want to share with you is my favorite:  Renoir's STILL LIFE WITH PEACHES. It's in the Impressionist Wing," said Charlie.

"Wonderful!" said Anh.

"Well, there it is. I have come to this spot many times and have been transfixed every time I have seen this painting," said Charlie.

"It's beautiful, Charlie," said Anh.

The two stood silently in front of the painting for about 20 minutes.

"It matters not to me how many times I see it nor how long I gaze at it," Charlie said, "I am mesmerized."

Anh and Charlie spent almost an hour in the Impressionist Wing taking in the beauty:  IMPRESSION, SUNRISE by Monet;  LUNCHEON OF THE BOATING PARTY by Renoir;  Le Dejeuner sur l'herbe by Manet;  SUNDAY AFTERNOON BY THE ISLAND ON LA GRAND JATTE by SEURAT, for example.

Other famous paintings:  JULIE LE BRUN LOOKING IN A MIIRROR by Brun;  WASHINGTON CROSSING THE DELAWARE by Leutze;  THE DEATH OF SOCRATES by David;  THE GULF STREAM by Homer;  THE DANCE CLASS by Degas;  BRIDGE OVER A POND OF WATER LILLES by Monet;  SELF PORTRAIT WITH STRAW HAT by Van Gogh;  MUSCIANS by Carravaggio;  PORTRAIT OF A WOMAN WITH A MAN AT A CASEMENT by Lippi;  STUDY OF A WOMAN by Vermeer;  YOUNG MOTHER SEWING by Cassatt.

Charlie knew that it would take a visitor around three hours if she/he simply walked by, but never stopped at, any of the works in the Metropolitan Museum of Art. He knew it, because he had done it himself.

"I'd like to take you to Titiana, famous for its Cairibbean food. It's In David Geffen Hall, part of Lincoln Center. You remember I have to be back to the Waldorf around 6:30 pm so Sid can pick me up at 6:45 so I can arrive at Village Vanguard at 7, right? You have your own key to our room, so keep it with you at all times. I'm sure you'd like to lie down and rest, then freshen up. Here's some money to pay for your cab. Come to the Village Vanguard whenever you like. I love you, Anh," said Charlie.

The two took a cab to Lincoln Center. The maitre'd of the Titiana took them to their table. Anh and Charlie perused their menus.

"I'd like to start with Corn Bread;  Honeynut Piri Piri Salad (Persian Cucumber, Seasonal Grapes, Crispy Quinoa);  Egusi Dumplings (Jonag Crab, Nigerian Red Stew, Pickled Pearl Onion);  and the Bodega Special (Cosmic Brownie, Powdered Sugar Donut Ice Cream, Sorrel), please," said Anh.

Charlie said, "I would like Fried Branzino (Rice & Peas, Cilantro. Onion);  Braized Oxtails (Rice & Peas, Thumberlina Carrot, Chayote Squash);  Hamachi Escovitch (Avocado, Carrot Nage, Marinated Peppers)
and Golden *** Cake, please."

"And what would you both like to drink?" asked the waiter?

"You don't drink alcohol, right Anh?" said Charlie,

"You're right, Charlie," said Anh. "I'll just have ice tea."

"I'm just going to have ice tea, too," said Charlie.

"Well, we've had a full day, Anh, and the day isn't over, is it?" said Charlie. "I think I'm going to give up alcohol now that you've made my life worth living."

"Bless you, Charlie," said Anh.


Chapter 8

The next day, Anh and Charlie visited MoMA (The Museum of Modern Art).

The following were their favorites:  THE STARRY NIGHT by van Gogh;  LES DEMOISELLES d'AVIGNON by Picasso;  CHRISTIAN'S WORLD by Wyeth;  THE BATHER by Cezanne;  THE PIANO LESSON by Matisse;  THE MOON AND THE EARTH by Gauguin;  SEATED BATHER by Picasso;  FULANG-CHANG AND I by Kahlo;  and GIRL WITH BALL by Lichtenstein.

Anh and Charlie ate a nice meal at the The Capital Grille, then returned to the Waldorf to rest. But before resting, they couldn't resist making love, then fell asleep in each other's arms. The alarm clock went off at 5:30 and at 6:45 Sid pick them up and took them to the Village Vanguard arriving at 7.

Charlie's table was waiting, as always.

"We'd both like ice tea," said Charlie to the waitress.

The band was playing ROUND MIDNIGHT then WHAT A WONDERFUL WORLD.

"Anh, being with you is my dream come true," said Charlie. Anh grabbed Charlie's hand and squeezed it.

"I could have attended any university in America, but I chose NYU," said Anh, "and New York City was the only city in America where I could possibly find you!" Anh squeezed Charlie's hand a little harder.

"I have dreamed of you every night since I left Saigon.The odds of us every seeing each other again were incalculable, but it happened. Do you sense it was by chance? I think it was meant to be," Charlie said as he took Anh's other hand and kissed it.

The band was now playing THE GIRL FROM IPANEMA.  No, Charlie thought, the band was now playing THE GIRL FROM SAIGON.

"We have a chance to see the world by seeing New York City, Anh!" said Charlie.

"How wonderful!" said Anh.


Chapter 9

Anh and Charlie at breakfast at Jams, then took a cab to the Whitney Museum of American Art.

Charlie's favorite American artist was Edward Hopper, and while the Art Institute of Chicago had Hopper's most famous work, NIGHTHAWKS, in its collection, The Whitney had the most. Charlie wanted to concentrate on all the Hopper paintings.

The Hopper paintings:  CAPE COD BAY;  MASS OF TREES AT EASTMAN;  ROAD AND ROCKS;  A WOMAN IN THE SUN;  SECOND STORY SUNLIGHT;  SOUTH CAROLINA MORNING:  THE SOURCE OF ALL VIOLENCE, MY UNSEEN FATHER-IN-LAW;  STAIRWAY;   SEVEN A.M.;  ROOFS, SATILLO;  JO IN WYOMING:  SLOPES OF THE TETON;  EL PALACIO;  JO HOPPER;  SELF-PORTRAIT (I);  SELF-PORTRAIT (II);  SATILLO, MEXICO;  a ma femme-jour de naissance;  EARLY SUNDAY MORNING;  LIGHT AT TWO LIGHTS;  TWO ON THE AISLE;  NIGHT WINDOWS;  ROAD IN MAINE;  AMERICAN VILLAGE;  THE WINDOW;  THE HORIZONTAL CITY;  WASHINGTON SQUARE;  THEATER;  REALITY AND FANTASY;  HEAD OF A MAN;  MAN WITH BEARD; NEW YORK MOVIE;  AUTOMAT;  TABLE FOR LADIES;  GIRL AT A SEWING MACHINE;  CHOP SUEY;  FROM WILLIAMSBURG BRIDGE;  HOTEL LOBBY;  and  OFFICE IN A SMALL CITY.

Charlie suggested the two ate at the GRAND CENTRAL OYSTER BAR. Anh said she loved seafood. A cab took them there quickly.

Anh said "I would like OYSTERS ON THE HALF SHELL, A CUP OF CLAM CHOWDER, MUSSELS, AND A SLICE OF KEY LIME PIE, please."

"I would like please OYSTERS ROCKEFELLER, LOBSTER BISQUE, and a good, old-fashion SHRIMP COCKTAIL. We both would like ice tea," said
Charlie.

Their dinners were delicious. They took a cab back to the Waldorf in time to meet Sid who got them to the Village Vanguard by 7.


Chapter 10

In the ensuing summer months, Anh and Charlie continued their seemingly endless exploration of New York City and, at the same time, adhered to their required nightly visits to the Village Vanguard. Over this time, the two enjoyed a cruise around the Statue Of Liberty, going to the top of the Empire State Building, visiting Ellis Island, walking tours of Chinatown and Little Italy, taking the New York Helicopter Tour, experiencing the Central Park Carriage Horse tour, and enjoying the Manhattan Island cruise.

And late afternoons, Anh and Charlie continued to eat among the best restaurants in the world:  OLIO E PIU;  BOUCHIERE UNION
SQUARE;  ELEVEN MADISON PARK;  BALTHAZAR;  GRAMERCY TAVERN;  THE MODERN;  UPLAND;  VIA CAROTA;  LE BERNARDIN;  PICCOLA CUCINA OSTERIA;  SCILLIANA; BOUCHERIE WEST VILLIAGE;  SCHUTTE;  GABRIEL KREUTHER;  FREVO, ATERA;  ESTELLA;  KOCHI;  LE COUCOU;  TAO;  COTE;  PETITE BOUCHERIE;  AMAVI; MANHATTA;  BLUE RIBBON BRASSERI;  1803 NYC;  MINETTA TAVERN;  SCARPETTA; CRAFT;  CROWN SHY;  HEARTH;  CHAMA MAMA;  FORGIONE;  TSUIMI;  PER SI;  CLOVER HILL; ASKA;
DANIEL;  JUNGSIK;  AQUAVIT;  ICCA;  MASA;  SUSHI NAKA-
SAWA;  GRAMERCY TAVERN;  LE PAVILLON;  LE JANDINIER;  
63 CLINTON;  AL CORO;  COTE;  OIJI MI;  JEAN-GEORGES;
DON ANGIE;  ONE WHITE STREET;  VESTRY;  THE MUSKET ROOM;  o.d.o.;  CLARO;  SUSHI NOZ;  ESTELLA;  SAGA;  SEMMA; L'ABEILLE;  NOZ 17;  SUHI GINZA ONODERA;  and THE RIVER CAFE.


It was a mid-August early evening as Anh and Charlie lay curled up naked under the white linen sheet.

"Anh, I love you. I will always love you. I want us to share the rest of our lives with each other. And if you feel as I do, I need to tell you that I feel each of us must be prepared to do the right thing, not only for each other, but also for all others.

"I worked for the CIA, and I know it does not always work for all people. I do not want to be a prisoner of the CIA for the rest of my life, and I don't want the woman I love also to be their prisoner.

"Anh, I love you. I will always love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And if you feel the same toward me, you'll need to know fully what both of us will need to do for the rest of our lives:  SPEAK THE TRUTH. These months I've shared with you have made me realize I cannot go on covering for the CIA and its related agencies and covert, deadly operations. If I cannot love you openly, if I cannot propose to you to be my wife, I would rather be dead. If you cannot run the same risks as I, I'll grieve greatly but understand and respect your feelings," finished Charlie.

"I would rather die than not to love you the rest of my life," said Anh.


Chapter 11

Charlie knew them all, from Haiti onward, but let's start with the OSS of WW11 becoming the CIA.

The CIA was supposed to behave legally, but it didn't always do that. Take, for example, assassination and torture, but don't tell Congress about them. If a foreign country smacked of communist leanings, the CIA needed to "redirect" it, even if its leader had been elected democratically. What else comes to mind? Of course, domestic wiretapping;  manipulation of media;   extraordinary renditions;  secret prisons run by the CIA on foreign soil;  "enhanced interrogation" (torture);  support of dictators in Latin America;  recruiting Nazis as spies;  sales of arms to nations under embargo;  CIA involved in global drug trafficking;  collecting data on Americans without warrants;  and mind control experiments. It took a lot of practice to do all of them well.


Chapter 12

"This is Charlie Cumberston calling for Senator Peterson," said Charlie.

"Just a moment, please," said the secretary.

"Charlie, you old dog!" said John. "We haven't spoken for a hell of a long time! How have you been?"

"That's a long story, Will," said Charlie, "but in truth I need to speak to you in private. It's a life-or-death matter, Will."

There was a long pause.

Charlie and Will were both Nacoms at Columbia, but though Will was considerably older than Charlie, they had become best friends. Will was now the youngest U.S. Senator. After law school, he and his wife, Marilyn, a Barnard graduate, had moved to Boulder, CO where he was elected U.S. Senator on his first try.

"I've been in New York City. I wonder if there is any possibility you might be able to take the shuttle to NYC to talk with me. I need your help," said Charlie.

"Charlie, if you think I could be of help to you, I will find a way to see and talk with you. I'll get back to you pronto." said Will.

"God bless you, Will," said Charlie.

The two exchanged the necessary contact information. Will told Charlie he thought he could get back to him in a day or two, if not sooner.

In early afternoon of the second day, Charlie heard a knock on his door. It was Will.

Charlie opened the door.  "Will, God bless you! Thanks for coming up. Take a seat at the table."

"Will, you know me well," said Charlie. "After Columbia, I joined the CIA. I wanted to honor my country. After intense training, I was sent to Saigon in early '65. During the Tet Offensive, I was wounded severely. I was in the hospital a year. I almost died, but Anh saved me. She was my nurse. I fell in love with her. I had a month before I was to be flown back to the U.S. and it was during that month that I knew I wanted to marry her. When I got back to Langley, they told me I knew too much about the OSS to the present, and if I divulged any iota from the past to the present, I would be "eliminated." I knew they meant what they said. So I agreed to be put up at the Waldorf Astoria and be taken to the Village Vanguard every evening. That was going to be the rest of my life--that is, until I had the unbelievable fortune of meeting Anh in New York City. My dilemma is I know I can't marry Anh now. Anh feels the same as I do. I wish to be remembered as an honorable man. I wish to speak to the world from the podium of the UN General Assembly to tell the billions on Earth the truth and ask all for their forgiveness. You are now the new U.S. Senator from Colorado.  You are an honorable man. The people who voted for you know that. Your fellow Senators will increasingly know that. My advice to you, Will, is do what you think is right. Thanks for hearing me out."

"I will tell the truth," said Will. Will said he would let Charlie know the outcome as soon as he could. The two shook hands and left the restaurant together.


Chapter 13

A week went by and then another. To say both Charlie and Anh were torn was an understatement. Then on the morning of Tuesday of the third week, Will called.

"I have great news for you, Charlie! You've won your battle! You need to prepare your remarks you will share with all the ambassadors and, indeed, the world." said an exuberant Will.

"I can't thank you enough, Will," said Charlie. "I can't thank you enough!"

As soon as Charlie hung up, he picked up Anh and swirled her around and around.

"I will share my remarks with all the ambassadors and the rest of the world," said Charlie, then picked Anh up and gave her a hug and a kiss in mid-air that lasted at least a minute, maybe two.


Chapter 14

"The irony is nobody had the guts to do what you have done, Charlie," said Will. "You have broken things wide open. Now Earth, and every living thing on it, has a chance not only to survive, but also to prosper. I met with U.S. Ambassador Wilson and told him everything. In turn, he spoke first with ambassadors who were his friends who, in turn, spoke with their ambassador friends. This has just spread like wildfire, Charlie. It's amazing!"

"Thanks, Will," said Charlie. "Now my life has meaning. And if this has wheels, we can change the UN Building to the US Building, as in "us, not them."

"That's brilliant, Charlie!" said Will.

After the two men finished their lunches at the 1789 Restaurant in Georgetown, they gave each other a big hug and shock hands.
Anh was taking a nap at the Willard.

"World peace is now the sine qua non for life on Earth," said Will. "Thanks for emailing all your brilliant ideas, Charlie," said Will. "All nations, including the most autocratic ones, see the inescapability of having to form a world union. You are the savior, my friend."

Will continued. "Monday, I will begin to talk to ambassadors. Those will speak to others, and so on. You said there is only one land, one sky, one sea, one people. The boundaries that divided us are not on maps, but in our hearts and minds. Either we will survive as one because of a successful, gargantuan effort to make world peace, or billions will die in minutes. Those are your words, Charlie. Those are your words."

Charlie said "I want to talk with my 8 billion friends on Earth. I will say first that it is an honor to speak to my sisters and brothers. I am overjoyed that I'll meet many of you. I will need to hear your heartaches and hopes to make Earth our home. I will help people realize their real selves. I will help people see what truth is and what it is not. I'll encourage them with love. I will tell them their inner-greatness is inviolable. Corrupt politicians aggrandize power to oppress others, not to empower them. I will die for humanity, but I will never **** anyone."

The ambassadors were in a frenzy for two weeks, communicating with their superiors in their home countries, garnering their approvals, getting ready for Charlie's momentous announcement to the world in the "US Building."
Seranaea Jones Aug 2020
they know who i am,

i first violated their ordinances
in the commission of a prank
phone call when i was eleven

simply a twenty-two second call
to a residence notifying them that
their refrigerator was running away

and i guess maybe it did—

because there was a strange non-analog
sound which indicated to me that the
authorities were monitoring.

my name is now certain to appear on
government stationary amongst a list
of other eleven year old offenders

inside a folder that sits in a drawer
of a file cabinet within row after row
of other file cabinets matrixed

underneath probably an eleven square
mile parcel somewhere outside
Langley, Virginia

(not to mention how many floors)

telephone patrolmen never forget a name,
and even if i turn eighty-eight they will
eventually issue warrants for my arrest

with patch cables on hand to tie me up
in order to extract confessions regarding
appliances for which no one has
any immediate concern—

ring tones will distract their focus as i wink
into the two way mirror, their failure to
hang me up until the eleventh hour
sandwiched firmly between my lips...

"the phone police"
©2012-2020 by Seranaea Jones
All rights reserved.
jas Mar 2020
I know my demons by name. Guess you could say we’re friends. Well more like frenemies. Do you know that popular girl in school? And if you do then you must know the outcast that she diminishes for her lack of self-esteem or whatever.
Well, I’m the outcast. Walking the halls with my headphones to drown out the constant bickering running around my mind. Hiding behind my cozy black hoodie. Comfort never felt like home. At least that keeps me safe.
Until I reach the chills of the cafeteria. I enjoy being alone so I’m grateful to be ignored by the general population. Stuffing my face in a book while I eat my cold sandwich is such an easy way to avoid eye contact. Why would I ever want to make contact with mindless humanity?
And yet I am somehow noticed by the “clique” run by little ms. popular. Judged by the clothes I wear. Is black even a color? Am I too broke to afford the name brand? Nails aren’t done, must be broke. Who even does make-up like that?
Don’t get offended, I just want to help you, sweetie. She says as the others giggle away. They’ve tortured me all my life, that I unwillingly learned their names. Yet, I am known as a “weird girl”.
You see there’s ‘Ann - xiety’, and yes she is as fidgety as her name sounds. She may seem like she has it all together but on the inside is a wreck of a world. Fear of living day to day surrounded by her social peers, judging. You see I’m not the only one who gets judged. And there is always a massive panic right before the big test. She had nausea constantly that it was rumored around that she might be pregnant.
Of course, I knew better, because, well, I knew better. Then, there is a tall langley dude, I think his name is ‘D... - Pression’,? Although I never figured out his full name. He’s new but my mind boggled me when he was accepted into the “clique” because he seemed as dark as me. Maybe more. I guess it was that chiseled jawline and soft black hair. Or I’m guessing it’s soft like I would know. His pale skin reminds me of a vampire, and who didn’t ever want to be bitten by one?
There is ‘Al - Cohol’. He/ Him is transgender. The only reason he fits in is that he is the little brother to Ms. Popular. How convenient. She defends him to the fullest. He either has two personalities. One is loud and ambitious daring the inevitable and the other shedding tears reciting his lost love from before. Or a changing world. Always a puzzle with that guy.
Out of all the bunch, the loudest is ‘Coco’ aka ‘White girl’. Her name is the definition of controversy. No matter how much she goes she stays in the sun I swear she never tans. She is the person to describe a party all night and sleeps when you’re dead. Although I swear she has the worst of allergies.
Oh, and don’t let me forget the queen bee herself ‘Mirror’. Strange name I know, but her parents are like self-righteous hippies or some ****. I bet if I dressed like her we could seem relatable. I mean, she was my best friend growing up. And I know, everyone has heard that story before, but it’s true. Ride or die up until high school, or perhaps it started before that. I could never pinpoint.
Life happens suddenly and if you don’t happen with it then you’re left behind. What can I say? I looked at life with depth and somehow had a deeper understanding than your average. So, yeah they left my *** behind and I developed into society as being the “weird kid”.
Somehow, these people never fail to haunt me every waking day. Just like shadows following my every move, I could never exist in silence entirely. Could I? I just want life to end sometimes. I don’t really know if it’s just this life or in general. It could be both, don’t question me.
So yeah, demons exist. I mean if you’re a non-believer then good for you. Matter fact, I applaud. I do, really. I think, well I wonder, what would it be to live a privileged life? A life with no demons, nobody to haunt you. No chills down your spine when you walk the halls. And for sure no ‘clique’ to torment you every day. But, in my book, you are living life. And tell me please, what could be better than that?
kevin Mar 27
I just cleared Langley hurdles
Now it's back to Quantico for trials of perjury
Then interpol assembly
The gavel is absconding

— The End —