The End.
… and then the fat lady sang.
The end.
Blah
Blah.
Blah. Blah. Blah.
Misery danced alone that night.
Blah. Blah. Blah.
Naked feet and a made-up face.
Blah. Blah. Blah.
Two steps by four and without blemishes.
Blah. Blah. Blah.
Misery danced alone that night.
Or so they said — proof-less
like an uneaten pudding; their words
not seeing Memories twirl.
Blah.
Blah.
Blah.
Misery danced with Memories
of naked feet and made-up faces,
dreaming of a silent world
— without Blah and blemish.
The Tumblr Virus
And the virus spread across tumblr’s dashboards
Replacing naked poetry with unrated pornography
Bare truths became bare skin
Title-less posts now tit filled
Dust
Dust gradually germinating
Grasping the concrete clay asleep,
A posh and pensive patchwork
Rooted in ash and dreams,
Nature’s need for care and compassion
Sloping shoulders and heaving chest,
Love my only mistress
As I care — and protect.
The Avatar That Sufferered an Oops
“Uhm, did you know your avatar has suffered an oops, Slouch,” the boy of infinite adventures informs me as he bounces through the cottage door. “I could fixify that with hugs you know!”
“Not sure hugs will help this time, no matter how many hugs you have in store.” I am washing up my only plate. Dinner a single parsnip but I’ll survive. “Tumblr has decided my blog is either mature or explicit or both. Explicitly mature makes no sense, cuz I’m neither.” I see the boy of eleven ponder my statement as if there were millions of solutions to consider.
“Huh, Charlie could … or Honcho would … but I will investigatify! Cuz Tumblr have done too many oopses and have lots of not Jaysome bugs in their settings.”
Before I can give a word of caution, Jay vanishes through the cottage door. I doubt he will find a solution.
Uprooting
Uprooting —
Moving from A to B
Like a puzzle with too many pieces
I cannot C it
Completed
No box with a pretty picture
To point my guiding arrow
At a target imaginable
Afar
Uprooting —
Finding a way
Through the haze and daze
Of idle passing days
In contemplation
Thoughtless waves pounds the shore
Gnawing at the last realm of time
And the soft sand
Disappearing.
One Song Sung by Choirs
I saw The Pogues in autumnal St Kilda
Slept on a hard floor while the scumbag dipped his wick
Got engaged in rural Templestow
Pretending we attended church,
While the Galway gal beyond the bay
Whispered songs of old New York
And of better times we soon forgot
Drinking ale of merriment …
Naked feet and bums in moonlight
We found a unison rare as stardust
In the darkness of night and lightness of touch
We were one song sung by choirs,
I saw The Pogues in autumnal St Kilda
Got engaged in Templestow
Better times soon forgotten
In a country far far below.
A Single Word Bounced
In the void
A single word bounced and bounced
In the void
The circumference was pie
The single word a statement
Of Jaysome
Impatient Words
Impatient words crisscrossing
An empty page
Once a mighty birch standing proud
Then through a slaughterhouse
Pulped into porridge without plates
Abused and spooned into sheets
To become empty pages
Where impatient words fail
To become poetry.