Society is but a continuous cycle we are born, we live our lives, born others, raise them, and then we die. It happens repeatedly over and over again in an unending predictable cycle. But sometimes this predictable cycle is broken an earthquake happens and the pattern is broken in the affected area. But then in a few years it just goes back to the unending cycle.
See society does not function without a repeatable pattern that's just how we work. When you learn something new like riding a bike a step out of the pattern, but eventually you start going on it more and more then it becomes a pattern. But why continue in this pattern. Is it as easy as asking for something different at a restaurant. Wrong after you do that once then you'll try it again and then you'll try it another time, eventually it becomes a full blown pattern.

I cannot describe the feeling of anticipation, waiting like in a food restaurant wondering!  Seen all there’s people munching. Drinking they fine wines away, all I can feel is the smell of the food around me.


I’ve been told my order will be out soon, not sure what it is?    The menu is in French I have this feeling of desperation! Wondering if what I’ve ordered would be good news to my palate.


Like been told you were adopted waiting on that park bench to meet your mom and dad for the first time. The time seems to go slow as you look around! Is that them? Hearts racing with anticipation.


I know what I want the outcome to be, but feel disappointed and sad at the thought that what I want to be would not be. See now I’m thinking why am I causing this emotion of lose through anticipating the worst outcome.


Fatigue and tired my brain becomes as these thoughts of been disappointed take’s over my mood. ~TICK TOCK, TICK TOCK~ the grandfather clock ticks but never stops i suppose it does in a way when you fall asleep.


Because for that moment your heart beats. Your brain is telling your body breath. As normality become thoughts. I now enter this dream this dream like state of emotion makes me remember that my mind is my temple.


It’s absolutely amazing this place I’m in. strange things in the world that my eyes have seen. And like a shadow fading in the distance light of this special place.    My thoughts stop been images and go back into my mind for only me to feel.


~ How Delighted ~ I am for waking up in the morning and breathing that first breath of life I will live for today and pray for tomorrow.

JidOs Reality 1.2.11

i don't know about you, but ******* out
  a high-fibre ****
                      out of your ***...
       feels just as good,
if not more,
        as good,
       as having an ******;
****! when that slug slides
out?
           thump! plop! ploop!
given that...
i can't imagine shoving anything
up that alley...
              there's too much
pleasure easing something out
from that cul de sac....
why would i even want to
stick something in there?
perhaps having ******* allows
you to make that comparison...
      taking a **** can feel
just as good as having an ******,
or urinating, with a *******...
but that's just me...
         we know how western society
is oh so objective / "scientific"...
so... why would we need food critics for?
or wine critics?
                it either tastes great...
or it tastes like ****...
if we're being so ******* scientific,
do we need these scientific
differentiations to be respected in our,
       so called, society?
who needs them?!
    off to the guillotine with them,
alongside that ***** of an antoinette!
what sort of society prizes
itself as being primordially-scientific,
clueless ******* objective by my say,
and then champions restaurant critics,
or food critics... or critics for their own
worth...
what part of giving a critique of food
is objective, to later bombast a stance
for championing darwinism as the pinnacle
of humanity's total worth?
   maybe i missed something.
anglophone wankers;
    have a ****-and-whammy on this crap!
like all of engloosh science:
robin hood, who could, but never would.

give me wings.
set me free.
i want to travel
to every edge of the world.
i want to sleep
on park benches.
i want to eat foreign
cuisine
and drink cheap
coffee, half asleep,
in a booth in a
cheap restaurant by
the road.
i want to walk barefoot
through fields of daisies;
i want to bury my toes
in the sand and feel the
wind in my hair
on a beach in October.
i want to breathe the
salty air in
and write poetry on
the cliffs.
i want to recite
cummings under the stars
while drinking cheap whisky
i want to run free
through fields of grass,
those green oceans of
morning dew.
i want to drive on
the highway at full
speed
and ***** the
speed limit.
i want to sing off-key
at the top of my lungs,
i want to hide in the
woods and make my
own recipes,
i want to cook
my own life
not by the rule book.
i want to be whom i've
always wanted to be.
don't tell me how
to live my life;
let me drink hot
chocolate,
sitting on a beach
at 4 a.m. in a
party dress;
let me drink
tequila in baby blue
cotton pyjamas,
let me waltz
to heavy metal,
let me breathe.
for ****'s sake
break my shackles.

yep,
    and went all the way to st. petersburg...
met her "family",
        what i mean by that ambiguity is that:
her mother was her "sister",
                  her grandmother was her "mother",
a photograph of her grandfather
             was her "father".
              dittoing out of words too much?
i cradled her little sister on a fairground ride...
         i still believed the lie...
     so yoru grandmother is your mother...
           and your mother is your sister...
                  what the ****?!
       and i was the one that my aunt gave
birth to me!
                lemon curd ice-creams anyone?
how the **** do you live with something that?
apparently 7 years later it was corrected
as:      
the mother you called your sister,
                                was actually your mother;
the grandmother you called your mother,
was actually your grandmother;
so why would you marry some pathological liar
     of a woman?
        fair *** my aß... ᚨᛋᛋ... say it as ich without
saying ś... when you say isch:
when actually harking out an            ich.
        cholera, holera, chować sto, chować pięcet!
sure, you can go on a date with such an e.g.
to the ****** opera... eat oysters in a restaurant....
  do all the things you'd like to do as a couple...
but then the all too obvious lies...
    i also had great sympathy for my grandparents,
but i wouldn't call my grandfather my father,
or my mother, a twice-removed sister of an aunt
that was dying from alzheimer's!
   being around the block, giving a ******* an ******
(which i find to be a lifetime's achievement) -
i ****** well know that prostitutes have
    better etiquette standards, than what woman i dated;
and the other one, the south african blonde...
who ****** me with a dry ****...
       prostitutes?   at least they cream up
                                      if they find you unappealing;
at least that much courtesy, as is required.

Oh hi there fellow!
I see you there dwelling, you darling dew drop.
I see you! No, not just your presence I recognize your iridescent essence.
Wow, aren't you remarkable with that cascading flesh, supple and prolific!
Your wild dragon fly eyes moist like a glistening tile floor at a high class fast food restaurant.
And hey check out those morbidly ***** brows, all flurried and bunched neatly upon your forehead stage.
You are a masterpiece every nook and pitted cranny, a glorious castle of cells and excrement.
Now my suitably silken friend lets strut out of this bathroom and let the chasm of life consume us.
Oh so exuberantly.

You had set a date and you’re 10 minutes late.
You feel guilty, because you don’t have a reason for it.

You’d rushed in, head down, embarrassed and hot with frustration, only to realize your date isn’t there and she had no idea you were the one so close to being a fool.

You check your phone and realize she'd sent you a message about how she’d been busy, and would arrive about 17 minutes later than expected.
She apologizes, but really you thank her for the inconvenience.

The food had been set ahead of time. A three course meal at a restaurant you’re not familiar with. However, new soup comes steaming out. A meal for two.
You start on your own.
17 minutes late turns into 23 minutes after you’ve arrived, a total of 33 minutes; you feel alone, her soup is sitting there excavating cold with each passing moment. The soup is delicious: you think, and it warms you to know that at least something is right with the world.

Your hesitation in texting her mirrors your shame.
Of course she's not coming, women from photos like hers don't walk into lives like yours...

It isn’t too long after you’re done with the soup that your date comes in.

She’s beautiful beyond expectation.

Everything fantastic about life can describe her, and to you, again, nothing in existence can explain how perfect she is in this moment.
Like a drowning man in an endless ocean, you can’t help but reach out to her with every inch of your soul.

Biting her lip, she looks into your eyes, lost, until the tip of her soul touches yours.

You witness her red-lipped smile like a red rose bloomed.

You smile with grandeur, because it’s the only reflex that reflects your hopes fulfilled.

You stand up and ready her chair for her.

SCENE

A laborer bagging paper in the courtyard ,
smoking mangled cigarettes kept in -
a sock
Flags crack like whips in the Fall breeze
Disoriented black birds fill town trees
Breath has become visible on hurried -
townsfolk
Cars in angled row line the pharmacy ,
barber shop and the only downtown restaurant
Idle chatter , ringing of silverware , the  -
drawer slamming against the cash register
Waitress calling orders to a fry cook ,
children working gum ball machines
Middle class Americans in flannel shirts -
and blue jeans
Paying Friday tabs , barely getting by ..

People that can hurt you, the ones that can really hurt you, are the ones that are close enough to do it. People that get inside you and... and... and tear you apart, and make you feel like you're never gonna recover. ****. I'd... I... I would chop my arm off right here, in this restaurant, just to feel that one more time for my wife. My old lady, she didn't just break my heart. She... She'd rip it out, she'd tear it apart, she'd step on that ****, feed it to a dog. I mean, she was ruthless. She brought the pain. But she'll never hurt me again.

-Frank Castle in the TV show Daredevil

war
the animal instincts of humanity
men
huge storms
demons
my own weaknesses
the idea no one actually likes me
approaching a group of people
ordering food at a restaurant
Sacred Heart
disappointing God
being misunderstood
dependence
mental and personal instability
yelling
nonreciprocation

The eternal hipster surveys the scene
Puts on his bright, usual smile
Saunters in, knows he is seen
Small talk is his forte
He's skilled at witty repartee
There's a nice looker in that blue dress
He walks her way
He's been a loner way too long
He knows he's gotta stay
In the game, in the world, in life
Or else he'll fade into the twilight
Into the murals, forever lost in play

Scarred, scared and worried
He's been at this too long
He liked it better when he was with the ex
But that's an old sad song
He misses his lover
Why does love have to die?
She's gone which is why he's here
Giving it the college try

The blue dress is worn by Amy
He says, "Rick's the name.
Do you live here in Malibu,
Or on the fruited plain?"
She laughs demurely, then looks away
Explains that she's a widow and a local
It's her night to brave the great indoors
It's her date with fate

Indeed it is, the time is now, the evening is still young
There's a restaurant named Geoffrey's,
Would she care to come along?
She would, and she does, so off they go
The aging hipster with the bright smile
This could be a go
Thank God he left the house tonight
He didn't mope around
This has the possibility
Of something very rare and sound

The coach had left Paris
and it was still dark
apart from street lights
and they became less

as we got
to the countryside
music was coming out
the coach radio

some Mozart
some French
radio station
Miriam sat next to me

her head slowly
resting on my shoulder
her curly red hair
tickling my cheek

she'd swapped with Bill
at the restaurant
in Paris
he sat with

some other guy
whom she's *******
beside her
music makes me sleepy

she said dreamily
don't mind me
resting on you
do you?

no sure
go ahead
I'd said
and she had

I thought of my mother
and her parting words
be careful
of your wallet

and your morals
and changed
your underwear
every day

I had my wallet
safety-pinned
in my coat pocket
and I changed

that morning
at the Dover B&B;
Miriam was nodding off
the slight sway

of the coach
meant she slowly
drifted into me
I saw her reflection

in the darkened
window beside me
her eyes closed
her mouth open

my shoulder
her rest
I studied
the pink

reflection cleavage
of her soft breast.

Sitting in a crowded restaurant with a table too far to put your elbows on and you wonder if this is how it feels to be well mannered
He smiles, innocent and pure, deceiving your naïve mind
"We've grown apart, it's been months and I still can't sleep, how did you do it so fast?"
He parts his lips like he is going to say something but pauses almost as if it is a death sentence he does not want to give. A pounding on a gavel, a mother gasps in a courtroom, handcuffs fitting too tight.
He says, "Part of growing up is picking and choosing your battles and you just aren't one I want to fight anymore."

Wishing for breakfast
before ascending
on high pass road..
Need for nourishing
alertness on winding curves..
The restaurant appeared
in a sudden way..
Anticipating
happiness in satiation..
Then during breakfast
a realization
of happiness fulfilled
but only for this moment..
Temporary
not to be held
but a portion and pointing
to that happiness
Permanent
I am...

Oh no there's soup on my fly
cream of mushroom to boot
and here I am in this restaurant
wearing my best black Armani suit

I dare not get up
can't get off this chair
oh good grief
I'm in utter despair

The napkin did not help
just smudged it a little more
it looks a long long way
to get to the restrooms door

I'm in such a pickle
I wish I could die
oh the embarrassment
for there's soup on my fly

By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris

I remember how it felt
When I looked at you
Before your eyes met mine,
When I saw you again
After seven (gruesome) years.

It felt very final.
I knew I loved you,
But I kept thinking
All through out lunch,
"This is it. The end all, be all."

The thing is, I knew.
I knew that when I saw you
While I was crossing the street
From the apartment complex to the restaurant, while my heart was exploding
With giddy butterflies, that this was it.
That it was you.
That there wasn't going to be anyone else.
And maybe there never was.

At least, not for me.

I looked at you the same way on Saturday afternoon.
It felt very final.
Even though I felt like there were a thousand sirens going off in my head,
There was one part of my mind that was silent, save for one fact.
That it was you.
That it had always been you.
There never was anyone else.

At least, not for me.

I'm not like you.
We're two very different creatures,
I tried to tell you this after I placed the things
I felt the need to return to you on our bed.
I tried to tell you that you deserve someone like you.
Because you do.
You deserve, at the very least, to be understood.

I am not like you.
I do not have primal, instinctual attraction.
I cannot look at others as though they
Are plausible mates.
I can't do this, because they aren't.
I have you, and only you.

I am not like you.
You, who can set down roots
And make a home out of wherever
Your head rests.

I cannot root myself,
I don't know how to have a home.
I've got wandering in my blood,
My bare feet were made for running away.
I don't know how to make roots.
I don't think I ever knew.

On Saturday (and every day since),
I have looked at you with the same finality that I had when I saw you again for the first time.
The same love.
The same longing to be able to make you my home.
The same remorse and guilt I always feel when I have to get up and leave what I love, because I simply cannot stay.

Because I don't know how to have a home, and it is a fools game to try to make a home out of a person.

I was trying to leave, because people like me don't deserve people like you. People like you, who are good and patient and compassionate, and have hearts made from gold, and souls stitched from clouds. People like you shouldn't spend time on people like me. People like me, who are petty and volatile and selfish, and have broken glass for hearts and souls made out of ash and smoke.

I was trying so hard to do the right thing,
For once.
To be selfless,
For once.
To give you a chance at a better life.

But then, with tears in your eyes,
You asked me to stay.

And I don't know why you would want someone like me to stay. Someone who runs as far as they can, constantly. Someone who can't make the sun come out from behind the clouds.

But when I looked at you,
I hated myself for putting so much dark pain in your bright blue eyes.

So, I looked at you like I've been looking at you. I took in every detail. I took note of every part of your face I had never told you I loved, even though I do. Like the bridge of your nose, or your cheek bones or the way your eyelashes brush against your cheeks when you blink, or how your hair sometimes curls into a swoop on your forehead. Or how your eyebrows are never really all that messed up but you always have at least one hair sticking out of place. Or how your jaw tightens when you're upset and trying to control it, and it makes your chin poke out just a little bit. Or how you flatten your lips into a line when you're thinking, or when you bite them when you're trying not to feel.

Or how your tears made the blue in your eyes brighter, and it reminded me what it was about rain I used to find so beautiful.

I was looking at you, and have been looking at you,
Like it was the last time.
Because you never know when that will come.

So, I was selfish.

And even though I had caused those tears, you asked me to stay.

And I don't know how to stay.
I don't think I ever did.

But for you, I could learn.

He always felt like he was at a disadvantage because he grew up less fortunate. While others had support his family never left the area. He went into the world tried more than most failed but never stopped believing kept striving he always said to his siblings he was the best brother. They didn't believe him and took his remarks for a comedic punchline.
He worked retail and in a family own restaurant he loved his jobs but learned the hard way never to work with family. He worked twice as hard because he didn't want others to say he only got his job because he was related to the owner. He didn't like when others talked about him or had this twisted perspective of how they viewed him.
He would. Move on to retail you treat others right and give your all it's easy to do when others don't take pride in their work. He was willing to learn and grow in the company but can only go so far.
He would spend lots of time writing on his down time trying to make sense of the confusion. Writing was his voice because when he spoke someone was easily offended or upset by his honest. He told the truth not what others wanted to her. All his life he got the truth and valued honesty because lies and fake people are only cheating themselves.
He had many friends some cut him out but he understands kids and marriage family is first. He wished them the best. While others would bad mouth him behind his back and fake to his face. He was honest and told them to their face things got twisted and those phony friends made him out to be the bad guy. He would be a protector of his peeps stood tall for them when it came to him needing them, they are no where to be found. He learned to let go it was hard but he realized all these friends are doing everything they criticized him about.
He quit drinking for a friend but now he does it for himself. He would alter himself for a girl who doesn't like him the way he liked her. Tolerated annoying girlfriends who ended up cheating or dumping these peeps he thought highly of but they never gave him a thought or took him into consideration. He ruined his relationship so he can hang with his friend. His friends never made time for him when they had a girlfriend when the were arguing he was the first person they called and said they'd never go back it was over and that was a lie he heard too many times. He eventually stopped caring and focused on his priorities.

choking;
another memory consumes me
you beaming your sunny smile;
our dinner at a floral restaurant
laughing over unexpected prices
silhouetted by the last evening light of summer

so many days of late
my heart finds itself slingshotted
back to powerfully happy moments
picture-perfect snapshots before the spark was extinguished
and mountainous emotions grew to divide us

as the reflections grow stronger
these bright events will become what is chosen to be recalled
instead of the grim reality of the situation placed before me:
that while i saw forever in your eyes
sometimes a dream is just a dream.

Charlatan Charles Darwin's mutational speculations made Humans far weaker, far less robust, far less equipped to cope with weather extremes, cholera (from a simple bacterium that corrupts fetid water & spoiled food), pertussis, pox & a plethora of maladies that our alleged simian kin are oblivious to. Darwin's flunkies also NEVER address the 4,000 genetical disorders unique to the inferior version of Man imprisoned on Earth. Darwin's lickspittles NEVER wax liberally about mineral evolution or stellar evolution. Chucky Cheese Darwin's ***-wipes NEVER explain why most simians are scurvy-resistant as they produce vitamin C, yet superior Humans (who lack the ability to produce C) suffer & die from clinical & sub-clinical scurvy by the millions. Evolutionists loose control of their weak, swollen, compromised, edematous, inflamed urinary bladders at the broaching of polystrate. It's time to consign to pasture Darwinian virtual science and return to facts. A fact is a fact only when it can be mathematically verified.

Drenched in heavy morning rain
Like an arctic soaking, to the vein;
I just sat there stunned and wordless,
by the results of endless tests.

Only do I seek the scoffer's sympathy;
my litanies dot the bottom of this timpani.
No restaurant on high street offers...
Whoa! I found where my sanity rests:

A very comforting hand takes mine,
The other hand, by her child as well.
I draw dry ice sculptures in my mind,
While a hawk’s screech rings overhead.





_✒

Sam the dog and Pearl the cat
Were sitting on the wall
They do it every day
So it isn't strange at all

They have little conversations
Which only they can understand
They talk about their little quirks
And none of them are planned

Pearl goes first of course
And Sam lets her have her say
He knows better than to interrupt
He learnt his lesson the other day

“I scratch my scratching post
And I chase my clockwork mouse
I leave my loving mistress
Little gifts all around the house

I eat all of my food
Then I use my litter tray
Or sometimes one of her slippers
When she looks the other way

I sleep lots throughout the day
Until about half past seven
Then I think it’s playtime
Until well after eleven

Each day she fills my water bowl
But I don't use it for a drink
I prefer to use the kitchen tap
While balancing on the sink

I like to lodge my face in things
And my mistress gets fed up
The other day I got it stuck
Inside a paper cup

I've got a lovely padded bed
For when I need a sleep
But I sleep in the bathroom hand-basin
It’s nice and cool and deep

I love it on a Tuesday
My mistress gets her magazine
I sit my bottom on it
It’s pages sight unseen

One of my favourite pastimes
Is scratching on the door
I make her think I want to go out
Then I curl up on the floor

I put on my needy face
When I smell nice food
My mistress never shares with me
How can she be so rude?

I like to go upstairs
On the bed I like to lie down
Nestled in a furry ball
On a fluffy dressing gown

Sometimes I hide in cupboards
Then suddenly jump out
My mistress tells me off for startling her
You probably hear her shout

I sit on the laptop keyboard
While my owner tries to chat
To her human friends on Facebook
I soon put a stop to that”

Sam now has his say at last
And looks straight at Pearl, the cat
“You think you get into mischief,
Well I can better that

I love going into town
Though it isn’t very far
My favourite thing is the lovely breeze
On my head out of the window of the car

Sometimes my mistress brings me a doggy bag
From her favourite restaurant
It contains all of my favourite things
She knows exactly what I want

Last week she took me in the car
Allegedly to the park
It was really a trip to the vets for ‘the snip'
I was totally kept in the dark

I do a vanishing act at bath time
I always hide under the bed
So I get taken out to the garden
And end up getting hosed-down instead

Whenever my belly is scratched
No matter where we are
I lay on my back with my legs in the air
As if playing an air-guitar

I love rolling in smelly stuff
Much to my owner’s dismay
It's one of my favourite pastimes
I do it almost every day

I'm the master of the head-tilt
When I smell nice food on the table
I sometimes get some scraps
But not from greedy aunt Mabel

Odd times I chase my tail
I chase it round and round
Then I spin around a couple of times
Before exhaustedly lying down

I keep eating grass
When my tummy is upset
But sometimes I eat too much
And I end up at the vet”

It’s almost five ‘o’ clock
Both hear the rattling of a tin
That sound means it is dinner time
Time to be going in

Sam gently says to Pearl
“See you tomorrow, the same time”
Pearl preens her whiskers and purrs softly
Then over the wall she starts to climb

Sam spies a muddy patch
He'll save it for another day
Then he'll see his pal, Pearl the cat,
When she’s next out to play

Do you remember
that night we first made love?.
I had bought you roses
from the flower girl.
The gypsy violins played
romantic music
in the old Hungarian restaurant.

We went back to my place
and we kissed deeply.
You were so shy.
I felt it odd you were shy
after all
we have been lovers
in so many lifetimes.

I am sitting in a restaurant, minding my business and drinking my tea.
A large man swiftly jumps into my booth
"bbq ribs with fries and ketchup" he says
"all you can eat"
I start to stumble on my words as he receives his plate.
"I don't know him, I didn't order."
I try to speak, but confusion clouds my judgement.
He starts to eat.
Confused, I stare.
The BBQ drips off his face
I sit there frozen
He takes a bite, finishing off
Another plate arrives.
"Konnichiwa" he says
"HUHH????????" I say very loudly in confusion, as this was a caucasian man.
Another plate arrives
"RABBITS." he says.
"Wha?" I say irritated
I start to lose my ****.
"Get out of my booth sir." I say.
"Naw." he says with a mouthful of barbeque.
He takes another bite.
So as I ****** his plates
"NOOOOOOOOOOO." he yells in slow motion.
Right then, the plates slip out of my hands fiercely hitting the waiter.
But not only did it hit the waiter, it hit the waiter beside him, and splattering on a group of waiters singing happy tenth birthday to a young boy.
Everyone starts to scream and panic.
"Time to go." I say quietly laughing.
He tries to chase me and falls over.
I make it right outside of the restaurant, as I hear the cops.
I bolt.
"Well that backfired." I say as I ran;
all you can eat.

Kenny Rogers was a heroe
Heroe oh yeah mate
He was a heroe oh yeah mate yeah
But he did some great things
You see Kenny Rogers is a man
Who was really really good
He sang the gambler very well
Coward of the county
And a duet with Dolly Parton
Called islands in the stream
He was great and he loved life
He was really cool
He performed with bobby Doyle
And had groups like the new Christy minstrels and first edition where he had a song just dropped in to see what condition my condition was in which got to number 5 on the billboard charts and then he got more control of first edition and made a song in 1969 which was called
Ruby, don’t take your love to town
He was an actor as well as a singer
He acted in the gambler and six pack where he played a race car driver
he was radically awesome dude he had a restaurant chain called Kenny Rogers roasters with Kentucky fried chicken ceo John Y Brown he couldn’t pick his chicken out on a taste test on the Conan O’Brien show and that would be weird the chicken was shown on Seinfeld on the chicken roasted show
It also went bankrupt on an episode of fresh of the boat called let me go bro, actor was Jeff pomerantz
Mad tv and ******* also talked about his restaurant what a great chicken shop
He was on Reno 911 in 2004
And in 2012 he released a book titled
Luck or something like it, explaining his ups and downs in the music industry
Ommmmmmmm the great Kenny Rogers passed away
Ommmmmmmm send him to his next life with a great message for all
Ommmmmmmm you have to no where to hold em
Ommmmmmmm no where to walk away or know where the to run
Ommmmmmmm islands in the stream that is what we are
Ommmmmmmm the great Kenny Rogers was a Heroe
Like I said at the start
Ommmmmmmm singer actor chicken franchise
Ommmmmmmm he was a great man

Mrs B said
can I take you
out to dinner
one lunch time

for being
such a kind
young man?
I'll bring Lillian along

not because
I don't trust you Benny
because I do
but just in case

my husband hears
about me taking
you out for dinner
and thinks there's

something going on
and I wouldn't
want that
and I know

a nice restaurant
where we can
have a really
decent meal

and O best dress
in reasonable clothes
because the place
I am going to take you

is quite upmarket
no jeans or tee shirts
I let her talk on
while I studied her

after all
she was old enough
to be my mother
and unlike Lillian

who was of
a similar age
and was a quite dish
Mrs B

never struck me
as being
****** at all
but it was good

to have a meal
and see Lillian eat
and see her
delicate hands

and her pale complexion
and O those eyes
I could so easy
fall into them

and **** her in
O boy
how is that
for sin.

Every time I see the beach
A restaurant, bar, hotel.
I can only think of just one thing
One visage
One face
One girl

I'll never eat in comfort
I'll never sleep in peace
Swimming, surfing, fishing
Will always be empty

No intimacy, I'll ever feel
Memories will always flow
Those memories that are so good
No others will come close

I wish, I beg, desire
For you to feel the same
I know it's pointless now however
Others breathe your name.

I know it's just
A facade,
A screen to Veil the truth
But now the veil has turned to stone
The fake has turned to truth