I lost a word
again today, mid-sentence
My meaning hung in still
air between reason
and just plain ignorance
My tongue searched
the roof of my mouth but
no noun could be found
the back of my molar
but no verb was hiding
My eyes flitted but no
adjectives returned my gaze
So I simply changed
the subject like veering
into another verbal lane.
We gather together to ask the lord’s blessing
stop those who are ordained from undressing
before women and children without confessing
no savior’s ever gonna butt in
angels are drinkin’ tonic and gin
Sister Theresa’s gonna elope
Father O’Connor’s word of honor
a chance to fornicate they hope
before bed check, make our break
ending celibacy’s what’s at stake
religions trump common sense
and underwrite rabid causes
name the enemy, pass judgment
mete out punishments define honor
build chasms between dogma and understanding
operate with slogans and retaliation
closing many doors and many coffins
amen.
Nothing else happened
We could have gotten a room
We didn’t though
Innocence won
Stress has been his constant companion
lodestar of his neurotic universe
spanning his life from beginning to end
a rope bridge across a shark-filled ocean.
How he would sweat over school exams
then worry about his college degree
while fretting over his chosen career
and if ever he’d get that first promotion.
A steady girlfriend brought him no respite
only the fear she might not be Miss Right
marriage unleashing a new set of woes
with the bills and the thirty year mortgage
and whether they could afford two kids.
But even retirement gives him no joy
being as stressed as when he was a boy
his golden years yielding fresh anxieties
about his wealth lasting and his health.
Alas it is I trapped in this fraught world
and in this moment of contemplation
I ask myself what salvation there is
for such a man as me yet must conclude
my worries on this earth will never cease
and that death may be my only release
Autumnal green
sun auburn
bites dust of feet
and suddenly
it’s work
work and morning
enmeshed in claptrap
rush, rush with noise
autumnal equinox
Gods have forgiven
draped in saris
drowned in rivers
autumnal breathing
poetry of life.
They couldn’t touch her anymore,
something had changed deep inside.
She closed doors all around herself,
seemed to have stopped smiling
and was only seen walking alone.
Luckily, this was only temporary,
a thoughtful pause between chapters.
She was fighting quietly,
being patient and careful,
waiting for the right people
and correct opportunities.
Her diligence and tenacity
were rewarded threefold.
Her life didn’t just start again
but blossomed and shifted up a gear.
She never mentions,
never mind speaks ill of
those past folk,
nor acknowledges their existence.
She wisely let the Dragons of Karma
destroy her once persecutors.
And whilst it was happening
she never once gloated,
laughed or even stopped to look around.
More at http://paultristram.blogspot.co.uk/.
You always were withdrawn and self-contained
so by your nature you are still constrained
for since you have been lying underground
you have slumbered there without a sound
with reports that not a single whispered word
from your abode in the beyond has been heard.
It seems therefore that your taciturnity
is destined to continue in perpetuity.
Hence from beneath your shroud of silence
we can expect no promise of deliverance.
whiskey moon
I collect blown out candles
on the beach
—–
a motorbike
zips through traffic
with my passing years
—–
meandering river
I float
with your memories
—–
cradling you…
I add one more candle
on the cake
—–
new day
a dove silently floats
on a rainbow
—–
mobile library
a ladybird eats raindrops
from the leaf
—–
dandelions
in a spring soaked sky
ponies gallop
—–
moonlight
a silhouette
of early daffodils
—–
old questions
rest in the tornado
of a meandering stream
—–
on the sea
ripples of moonlight
lighthouse on the rocks
More at https://twitter.com/Haikuintraining.
Down to the withered
reaching unseen tendrils
that till the tender soil
rhizome system yawning
the shoot appears to stand
firm but lightest leaning
causes the bud to tip over.
Brother, I want to hear your voice
and I don’t. I want to see what
we have in common, finally, after all
these years.
I want to meet the son that has
my name.
There is another version of my story
I’d like to hear out of your mouth,
and then maybe we can have some
family rest.