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Cue
CUE
Deep breath …
And …
Dive …
Cue: Fish
Swimming along alone
Unwittingly … Alarmingly … Lost
In some pea soup or other
Cue: Foghorns
(Cue: Definition
“Anything said or done
On or off stage, that is followed
By some specific line or act”)
Cue: Some moment designated: LOVE
Containing its own built-in distress
Statutory though … So no blame then
And with also some kind of kindness
Inserted just to be on the safe side
As Spring springs to life past Winter
Hmmm … Seems time to learn to listen to learn from Nature
As seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, years, whole lives
Slip by missed since busy spent seeking top marks
Spent forging on from nought to zero and back
For where’s the harm? Where’s the harm?
After all, after all, what’s zero after all
But the ground from whence all …
Hearts grow cold, a cold unnoticed
Hearts go to seed, to lockstep
Lockstep, lockstep, lockstep
From here and now to eternity
Nowhere now forever forever
Unnoticing the Eternity
Already here
Drowning in a homegrown madhouse
TVnRADIO busy busy busy working
Busy bent normalising the unforgivable
Exuding daily an utter absence of gorm
So good to have a friend though
Even if it is kind of imaginary
Children knew what those are all about
Before some way or another forgetting
Alas a loss alas a loss alas a loss
Brightness of eye now bedimmed yet body
Not yet quite hunted to extinction
Has and retains a mind of its own
Descended from apes
… Just not very far
… And not always in the right direction
Sheep bleat, mumble
“Don’t push at the back there”
An immodest silence
Opens and closes
Stuck fast twixt yes or no, cheese or chalk
Meaninglywhile preferring another option
A timeless walleyed stare into the abyss
Doomed to this personal threshold
Deep breath …
And …
Dive …
~~~~~~~~~~~
This was written as a contribution to The Secret Keeper’s Weekly Writing Prompt No. 58.
https://secretkeeper.net/2016/10/10/weekly-writing-challenge-58/
~~~~~~~~~~~
Weathercaster
WEATHERCASTER
She is my very own weathercaster
Drawing my attention away
Into some conjectured future
Conjuring up expectations
Tinkering with my emotions
Desire and disappointment
Elation, hope and fear
Stoking my imagination
Into creating or revising
My plans and proposals
I’m no longer in the room
I’ve left my body, marooned
Blind … I’m off remote viewing
Living an imaginary scenario
Any hint of current awareness
Has gone for a burton now
Sight, with the other senses
Has gone off line, no signal
A fake weather screensaver
Blocks out any true live contact
With the weather outside my window
Trouble Every Day
Jun 7
Posted by Ben Naga
(With a wave to Shawn and Jennifer.)
~~~~~~~~~~~
TROUBLE EVERY DAY
Well I’m about to get sick
From watchin’ my TV
Been checkin’ out the news
Until my eyeballs fail to see
I mean to say that every day
Is just another rotten mess
And when it’s gonna change, my friend
Is anybody’s guess
So I’m watchin’ and I’m waitin’
Hopin’ for the best
Even think I’ll go to prayin’
Every time I hear ’em sayin’
That there’s no way to delay
That trouble comin’ every day
No way to delay
That trouble comin’ every day
Wednesday I watched the riot . . .
Seen the cops out on the street
Watched ’em throwin’ rocks and stuff
And chokin’ in the heat
Listened to reports
About the whisky passin’ ’round
Seen the smoke and fire
And the market burnin’ down
Watched while everybody
On his street would take a turn
To stomp and smash and bash and crash
And slash and bust and burn
And I’m watchin’ and I’m waitin’
Hopin’ for the best
Even think I’ll go to prayin’
Every time I hear ’em sayin’
That there’s no way to delay
That trouble comin’ every day
No way to delay
That trouble comin’ every day
Well, you can cool it,
You can heat it . . .
‘Cause, baby, I don’t need it . . .
Take your TV tube and eat it
‘N all that phony stuff on sports
‘N all the unconfirmed reports
You know I watched that rotten box
Until my head begin to hurt
From checkin’ out the way
The newsman say they get the dirt
Before the guys on channel so-and-so
And further they assert
That any show they’ll interrupt
To bring you news if it comes up
They say that if the place blows up
They will be the first to tell,
Because the boys they got downtown
Are workin’ hard and doin’ swell,
And if anybody gets the news
Before it hits the street,
They say that no one blabs it faster
Their coverage can’t be beat
And if another woman driver
Gets machine-gunned from her seat
They’ll send some joker with a brownie
And you’ll see it all complete
So I’m watchin’ and I’m waitin’
Hopin’ for the best
Even think I’ll go to prayin’
Every time I hear ’em sayin’
That there’s no way to delay
That trouble comin’ every day
No way to delay
That trouble comin’ every day
Hey, you know something people?
I’m not black
But there’s a whole lots a times
I wish I could say I’m not white
Well, I seen the fires burnin’
And the local people turnin’
On the merchants and the shops
Who used to sell their brooms and mops
And every other household item
Watched the mob just turn and bite ’em
And they say it served ’em right
Because a few of them are white,
And it’s the same across the nation
Black and white discrimination
Yellin’ “You can’t understand me!”
‘N all that other jazz they hand me
In the papers and TV and
All that mass stupidity
That seems to grow more every day
Each time you hear some nitwit say
He wants to go and do you in
Because the color of your skin
Just don’t appeal to him
(No matter if it’s black or white)
Because he’s out for blood tonight
You know we got to sit around at home
And watch this thing begin
But I bet there won’t be many live
To see it really end
‘Cause the fire in the street
Ain’t like the fire in the heart
And in the eyes of all these people
Don’t you know that this could start
On any street in any town
In any state if any clown
Decides that now’s the time to fight
For some ideal he thinks is right
And if a million more agree
There ain’t no Great Society
As it applies to you and me
Our country isn’t free
And the law refuses to see
If all that you can ever be
Is just a lousy janitor
Unless your uncle owns a store
You know that five in every four
Just won’t amount to nothin’ more
Gonna watch the rats go across the floor
And make up songs about being poor
Blow your harmonica, son!
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Posted in Music, Songs
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Tags: Police, Poverty, Racism, Social commentary, TV