Category: Words
Mouse & Cat
It’s cat and mouse
The endless game
Which we all play
Except the days
The cat’s away
When’s not the same
Around the house
The endless game
Which we all play
Except the days
The cat’s away
When’s not the same
Around the house
Now should cat stay
Here on this day
Might we not pray
The time has come
For mouse and cat
To mellow some
And end this spat
Rant ! Pic and a Word Challenge #235
It’s like it’s Earth but it’s not Earth
She shook a little with her distress
Speaking between tightened lips
Just barely containing a primal scream
I don’t mind the old-Earth tenements
Their utilitarian simplicity
But why does every other building
Have to look like the cover
Of an Arthur C. Clarke paperback
Couldn’t we come up with
A more interesting ‘future’
Than one dreamed up by hack illustrators
Over two centuries ago
Jinessa was just getting started
When she goes full rant
You can either cower and exit
Or saddle up and ride it for the eight count
I struggled to get a foot in the stirrup
As her exasperation rose
Oh my gawd
But it feels like someone
Stripped the life out of the colour wheel
I mean I get it
Proxima is not good old Sol
But why does it have to suck
All the juice out of orange
All the indigo out of the sky
All the crimson out of my hair!
She’d wanted the change
As much as I did
Coming here was her idea
It took most of our combined savings
And a serious cut in our lifestyle
To pull it off
Those tenements she mentioned
Were functional and clean
But hardly the standard she’d lived in
All her deeply privileged existence
And why does the atmosphere have to smell
Like fucking plum pudding
What is up with that
Even a hamburger tastes like
A sickeningly sweet yet
Gaggingly pungent holiday desert
Why doesn’t it explain all that
In the brochures
How was it kept out of the news
But life with Jinessa was a bit of a rodeo
Whether it was staged here on Proxima b
Or back on Earth
Truth is I love this most about her
Well not so much the ranting
My Favourite House
Inside God’s House
Awed by the ode
Awed by the ode
In the company of worshipers
Some for God
Some for his house
But I think on it
And in the reflect I see
I prefer Love’s House
Which is any house
Where there’s you and me
On the Finer Points of the Grandiose
I like to imagine a society
Which would erect such grand monuments
Only after the eradication of
Which would erect such grand monuments
Only after the eradication of
Poverty
Inequity
Subjugation
Though I rather imagine such a society
Would have little interest
In erecting such grand monuments
Perhaps such a society
Would be too busy building
On its commitment to
Love
Compassion
Generosity
Tears
Tears flow golden
Down her cheek
Then fall to ground
Where forms a pool
From gentle creek
Down her cheek
Then fall to ground
Where forms a pool
From gentle creek
There streams and rivers
Come to rest
Display the sorrows
Which some detest
“Wait for the facts
You can’t protest!”
What have we
But video
And patterns written
Long ago
To actions spoken
Our words will out
If some won’t listen
Justice shouts
Hollowed Halls
Beneath the stone of arcing hollow
Echo footfalls of the hallows
Seep through time long silenced whispers
Fall on ears inclined to listen
Echo footfalls of the hallows
Seep through time long silenced whispers
Fall on ears inclined to listen
Bishops under Cardinals
Princes of the capital
Too all manner of celebrity
Still I prefer simplicity
Whose condition leaves them most to gain
While every pittance rendered unto greedy hand
Far too much where hope of sustenance is lain
Yet they, it ever seems, offer most without demand
It’s none of these I see today
By price of entry held at bay
Once was the time when pews were filled
By those allowed the least of say
Unopened
Barrier
Closed and locked
Closed and locked
But easily opened
From the inside
If you would let me in
Dimming Light
The light which skylight glass admits
Be grey and dour as such the day commits
While just as dim our life in quarantine submits
Then random seem the ones for whom disease remits
Be grey and dour as such the day commits
While just as dim our life in quarantine submits
Then random seem the ones for whom disease remits
Their darkest hour
To bed confined
For none the power
To stall the march of death’s decline
And so alone
Souls pass away
While not a hand
Is offered they
But latex glove
The touch at end of earthly stay
First Responders
She strode from the chaos
With an extraordinary self-possession
Intent on some minor stain or damage to her frock
As if all that mattered in this world
Was her appearance in it
With an extraordinary self-possession
Intent on some minor stain or damage to her frock
As if all that mattered in this world
Was her appearance in it
It was impossible to know
If her composure reflected disoriented shock
Or disdain for the physical danger
She had not yet entirely escaped
Until she let the hem fall down her thigh
Turned her attention toward her destination
Determined steps splashed a path
In a straight line through flotillas of shattered debris
Which seemed to have drifted in a pattern
Intended to allow her unobstructed exit
Books, papers, and various other shards of detritus
Drifted in the eddies of unsettled water
Which she cleaved like a great ship through choppy seas
In countenance and action
She exhibited a formidable and resolute presence
Like the war film fantasy of the battalion commander
Who leads his troops through a barrage
Of bullets and shrapnel
Upright, undeterred, intent not on the enemy
But the objective beyond their defensive lines
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