We stared and stunned each other 'cross the room.
I shouldered through the crowd to reach her.
I took her hand and kissed it. Then her mouth.
"Get off ! What are you doing ? Who are you ?"
"Don't be upset." I said, "We know each other
from eternity. You're in my dream
and I in yours. We share a common soul."
"You're mad." she said, "Completely off your head."
"No, no, not so. Marry me." I beseeched her.
"This is ridiculous."
"Come with me now."
"With you ? Where to ?"
"My car. My house. My life. My bed."
"I don't believe I'm hearing this." she said.
I kissed her hand and then her mouth. She came.
We made love more than sex yet in the gloom
there wasn't anything I could teach her.
The early morning light peered round the blind,
the herald of another Monday murk.
The pillow held no memory of her head.
I ate some breakfast. Went to work.

Though not a leper, I know the feeling
of a pariah with skin that's peeling.
It's because my wrinkles caused disgust
when my eye twinkled with ageing lust
and I asked a young woman to dance with me
in a local disco at seventy three.
The look of horror that crossed her face
really shocked me back to my place.
But it's good my skin hasn't worn too thin -
my elephant hide 'll let me try agin !

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Round Oz at eighty

It seemed a good idea at the time -
a car drive round Australia.
They said "You're too old."
I said "What the hell.
I've always been a bit of a failure.
Now before I'm dead and cold
I want to do something well.

Along the way I made several friends,
young women in particular.
They said "You're so brave."
I said "Not at all."
and avoided most talk vehicular.
"But I always give a cheery wave
to drivers who think I crawl.

They'd give me a sort of thumbs-up sign
but use their middle finger."
One girl was outraged -
"To a man of eighty !"
Now I don't want to be a pommy whinger
but eighty's not my actual age -
it's my speed in k p h.

Happiness

Through two decades of decadence we hunted fun,
familiar from explorers' tales, sighted among
the city clubs and bars, cornered and then captured
by shots of alcohol but shrivelled to dust when dead.
We found the fields where joy and jubilation thrived
but scissored flowers withered and did not survive;
we conquered distant mountains where excitement peaked
but soured to anticlimax in the following week;
we panned for nuggets of enjoyment in the streams
and mined the dark for hints of adult pleasure dreams;
we struck rich veins of entertainment underground
but mainly they just aimed to shock or to astound;
we played at passion, toyed with thrills and broke taboos
but always with the values we let others choose.
They sold unmissable adventures, awesome sights,
incredible activities, fantastic nights,
enough events to stoke some older folks' resentment
but even then they couldn't guarantee contentment.
Such transient events give only fleeting fun
and stimulate to further fixes once begun
for they themselves aren't longer lasting happiness
which isn't anywhere for sale and even less
for purchase on the sly. Instead that must be earned
by honest self-examination till we've learned
to value satisfaction of a chore well done,
the savour of a game played well although not won,
some job fulfilment, comradeship at work (for some),
maturity to be a father or a mum,
the overall delight of children through the years
and how to cope with sorrow, grief and tears.
Yet what conduces most to happiness that lasts
is still the magic between man and woman past
infatuation through reliability
and trust to sexual companionship. If we
achieve that fortunate state, then happiness is what
we hardly notice like the unvalued bedrock
in which precious stones are found, the dull support
of mounts for glittering jewels. Always men have thought
what constitutes true happiness - it's just perhaps
the background music to life, unnoticed till it stops.
And so to end with something snappy -
happiness is when you're not unhappy !

A superfluity of incongruity

O lucky modern poets, freed at last
from manacles of metre, chains of rhyme,
free to explore the natural rythms of speech
(which we hear everywhere and all the time)
invigorated by subtle cadences,
the lilt of intense feelings crafted to reach
more sensitive intelligences.
And as for that old-fashioned full-on rhyme -
who wants their dazzling landscaped flowers
trampled down by ugly clomping boots ?
(Though laymen might think near-rhyme more a crime.)
And no more boring repetition of verses
now that lines can be stopped
anywhere
                 for visual effect
and novelty of
                       s                  s
                         u             e
                            r        s
                              p   i
                                r
But all the usual prosaic tricks
can be exploited as before -
alliteration, rhetoric
and obscure figures of speech for sure.
This isn't merely tennis without nets;
why be constrained by all those cramping lines ?
Away with Tyranny ! You owe no debts
to generations of poets from earlier times.
What you've discovered and they failed to see
is that the nub of poetry is imagery.
But then prose writers do use imagery too
so you as poets really have to do
better meaning more illuminating yet
often degenerating to what is easier -
originality, appropriate or not.
For what is new may not be insightful
but only some unusual combination
of ideas or words in juxtaposition.
What gains the prizes and the muted fame
must meet the standard of your bizarre game.
Although superior to most pop lyrics
and clearly better than manic rapping,
it calls to mind those crazy quotes from Zen -
what is the sound of one hand clapping -
itself ?

Often at night when I go to bed
I don't fall asleep at once
although I'm sometimes really dead
tired and just like a dunce
repeat the same old thoughts in my head
over and over in silence.

So I lie there thinking of counting sheep
and next thing I'm waking up.
I can never remember falling asleep
although a determined striver
and if dying is somewhat like falling asleep,
I'll probably not remember that either.