Roots

As you know, this site is mainly a vehicle for poetry. However, as an adjunct to my two most recent posts, “Oil Tanka” and “The Break-up”, I have decided to reveal at least some of the “roots” that express themselves in the poems that emerged. I bet you never thought there was any connection between the two poems. Surprise!

The article I am linking to here certainly got me both feeling and thinking, as well as resonating powerfully with what I was already feeling and thinking, and with much of my writing, in both prose and poetry. It is, in my opinion at least, important enough for me to want to recommend it to as many people as I can. While it is primarily written with the USA in mind, that does not mean it has no significance for those who live in other parts of the globe; far from it.

I do hope you will be willing to devote a few minutes to it; if it helps, look at it as a small tariff on the time I spent creating the poems on “Ben Naga” that you have enjoyed. (I’m assuming there must *be* some, or else you wouldn’t be reading this. ) You can also look at it as being another “gift from the Musey Lady and Me”.

Comments are welcomed.

Surviving America’s Decline

Truth To Tell

TRUTH TO TELL

They say time will tell.
Or will it lie? … How to know?
Or both? … Time will tell.

Playing With Words

PLAYING WITH WORDS

You can’t stand while sitting
Nor sit while you’re standing
But you can lie if you choose
whether with or without lying

In fact lying is so versatile
You can lie while standing
Sitting or walking as well

And sitting too is a little bit flexible
For even though you can’t stand sitting
you can still enjoy sitting at will

So if you’re ever accused of lying
You can change your position
Saying “I wasn’t REALLY lying …”
I think it’s called playing with words

Each Day Is Valentine’s Day

A way back I was given the “Versatile Blogger” Award and I thought is was about time I made good on that claim. So here’s some music to listen to. It’s another one of those “Damn, I wish I’d written that” poems/songs. You have to agree these two were masters. A wonderful interpretation too. Both Nico and trumpet player Ian Carr have passed away also, but fortunately for us they made this recording before they travelled on. It’s best to open the link in a fresh tag then return here to read the words.

MY FUNNY VALENTINE – Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart

My funny valentine
Sweet comic Valentine
You make me smile with my heart
Your looks are laughable, unphotographable
Yet you’re my favourite work of art

Is your figure less than Greek?
Is your mouth a little weak?
When you open it to speak, are you smart?

But don’t change your hair for me
Not if you care for me
Stay, little Valentine, stay
Each day is Valentine’s Day

Lovers And Followers

LOVERS AND FOLLOWERS

People, let me tell you
Can be oh so very fickle
One minute they will “Like” you
Then they leave you, and your ego, in a pickle

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This was inspired by Arjun Sharma’s poem “Where are my readers?”

Ohne Wörter (Flower Sermon Tanka)

OHNE WÖRTER (FLOWER SERMON TANKA)

I picked a flower
Twirled it between my fingers
Sat waiting, smiling
Till it divulged its secret
But it just withered and died

Rambling Home

RAMBLING HOME

I’d rather be a grapefruit than an ape
You’re quite a bit longer for a start
And besides a word, a bunch of letters
Is no more than a handy metaphor
We can load with whatever feelings
We deem appropriate (or not)

And objects too – Case in point
He should throw away this old cardigan
Which, like it’s owner-occupier
Is starting to unravel at the cuff
But it reminds him of his mother
Who knitted it for him with kindness

Don’t do to be too weighed down though
When staying portable makes it easier
And you prefer to be easily moved
‘Cos if you can’t be moved by things
You’re missing out big style
Believe me, any fool knows that

And as for rushing about the place
Trying to get someplace else all the time
Without enjoying where you were
Or are – Just remember this
Speed, time taken, isn’t important
Rhythm, style and grace, is important

Compassion, learning little by little
And who’s in charge here anyway
All roads still lead back to roam and roaming
And undermine the disillusionment
Of pretended self-sufficiency
In self-interest and self-abuse

Guilt and shame on you
You know the rules
This coupling’s allowed, that one’s not
Hey, by whom, and anyway
We’re not done with exploring yet
Not by any means apparently

As if that jolly flickering flame
The moth’s so attracted to
Dancing her will-she-won’t she pirouette
Will do her in the end
Any good at all
Unless of course …

The world’s a message
You’re sending yourself
So why not take time then
Savouring that simple open secret
You’ll be surprised to discover
All beings kindred

Myriad spirits kindled
To cast a glow that lights the way
Thank them for their gifts
May you use them well … yet
To what final purpose?
And ultimately to whose?

Knuckle down
To a pulling up of socks
Wishing, I presume, to avoid
A rude awakening
I lace my shoes in a particular way
To maintain some illusion of control

Yesterday was Groundhog Day
Today is Choose day
Every day is Choose Day
I awake to wonder what next
And to whom to pose such a question
When to ask is contradiction enough

No point asking me, I’m afraid
I’m a stranger here myself

Cost

pic
pic
There’s more than one way to skin a poem!

Every Time You Succeed

EVERY TIME YOU SUCCEED

Every time you succeed
In analysing the whole problem
To the point where you see exactly what’s wrong
And begin to investigate
Just what the answers are
You realise again
That it’s no use
To try and be clever …

Sign

SIGN

Eat the stale rôle
Find a new world
They said
I stood at the end of the road
The sign pointed south
I turned east
The sign pointed east
I turned north
The sign pointed north
I turned west
The sign pointed west
I climbed the signpost
As a blind man a white stick
There was no more time
And only the alley was blind
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If you want to see the accompanying illustration, go to

http://winloseordraw.wordpress.com/2012/03/06/everyone-has-a-path/

Travel well and enjoy good companions.