Infinitely Fractal

 

Heartfelt nights
Party-throwing
Love song singing
Firelights glowing
Holding hands
Visions growing
Stirring breeze
Aware of knowing
Fresh field pastures
Deep seed sewing
What tranquil means
Eternal growing

A Case to State

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Working on opinions
Considering do’s and don’ts
Changing minds if things unwind
To say I will - or say I won't 
 
It’s not my flights of fancy
Based on what I am or not
Or whether mood may not exude
The either-or I haven’t got
 
Look again without uncertainty
Decide what side you’re on
So that just before you get there
You needn’t feel you’ve been and gone 

There It Is!

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Once upon a poem 

that arrived with no idea 
It rambled disconnectedly 
to struggle with each line
There was no plan or smart objective 
though I hoped for something fresh 
another way of seeing things 
Where instinctive proves a rule
Words can sometimes lack in elegance
Giving nothing much to read
Though invariably as I read through
I discover something else I need

January Ails

 

Longest month of the year

January New Year month

Wretched weeks of droopy days

Laced up cloaks in misery

A scene of melancholy plays

A month made up of Mondays

Loudly dumping too much night

Books of blotting paper leaves
Sucking up tomorrows flight

Disappointing in its nowhereness

Knowing last year truly died

Too many happy clappy wakes

That now bemoan the other side

Inundated

So fast it rained torrentially 

Stripping off the residues

That hung around like worn-out rags

A running beat of slapping shoes

Smothering beams of struggling light

Forcing twisted sprites down drains

Coughing in the gutter runs

Monstrous filth of stark remains

Gurgle desperate drowning voices

Pouring out a wretched plea

Into cauldrons of relentlessness
Renewed refreshed and running free

 

Crazy Situation

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Words implied look disconnected
Lack presentation of the truth
Twisting meaning like a swirling squall
To please in passing without proof

Down a corridor where echo’s sit
Assuming in the looming air
With hints of something to be known
Destined one day to compare

Hiding deep in fading privilege
Where respect has now been lost
Castles crumble into disrepair
No one mentions what it cost

 

What Goes Around Comes Around

The two of them were oddities

Well known in well-known parts

Frequenting lines of streamers

Among the bendy fits and starts

With relish flaunted differences

In concentric senseless style

Combined insanity with vanity

They led the world in single file

Tiptoeing round the cutting edge

Became the peak of what’s the point

Not saying or betraying why

For neither aimed to disappoint

Never ones for taking sides

They were continuous in the loop

Forever getting feedback from
A transformation simmering soup


Question: How long will wine stay fresh in a 'Klein Wine' bottle

A Klein bottle is a non-orientable surface, where there is no distinction between inside and outside. So unlike a sphere, where you cannot pass from the outside to the inside without passing through the surface, in a Klein bottle you can do just that. If you were very small, an ant say, you could start at any point, and keep crawling until you reached the other side of the surface, without passing through any surfaces, and without needing to cross any edges. 

Brainwaves

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Some are essential
Some are prime
Generally, many
Are just passing time
 
Some are amazing
Some are key
Can’t always believe
In their reason to be
 
Some overwhelming
Some shockingly sad
Narrow-minded subjective
Stealing your glad
 
Some are a mystery
Some are obscure
Among the improper
Turn out to be pure
 
Some are band wagoner’s
Some borrowed or bought
Hoping not waiting
To become your next thought

Tales From The Brownie Girl

 

She was a literary fairy

With a magic wand of words

Writing spellbound melodies

For chorus lines of hummingbirds

In her worlds of flight and fancy

A colour blush of spangled lights

To mesmerize enchanted eyes

On broomstick moonlit nights

In a glow of tantalising dance

A conjured tale of charm suspense

Visions swaying on the brink

Demand implied with every tense

Each cursive wend became the end

Releasing peals of laughter

As everyone tucked into bed
Dreaming happily ever after

Just Me

Try this thought experiment

Write a line of text

To see what drops upon your page

Then observe what happens next

For this where the search for you

Begins inside your head

Your game of ‘who, me?’ hide and seek

Where you write, wrong things instead

If you ask yourself a question

Like who is really me

The answer may not come at all

For who you are you and cannot see

But then again you ask yourself

If ‘what you are’ is more like cake

Fresh and new then turning stale

Then many more of you to bake

So being you is not an easy thing

No one-time truth you might uncover

For every part of you is changing fast

What once was you is now another

Give yourself a chance to say

Whatever hunches come to mind

And if like me you wrote them down

Then you and me are of a kind 

A Sum of Many Parts

 

Looking up I saw a fluttering 

Billowed in a windy gust

It wouldn’t look me in the eye

Even though I knew it must

Straining hard to maintain height

With each circle dip and swerve

A show of mental nonchalance

Excessive stress in every curve

Line of sight gave indication

Of measured distance in between

A heavily weighted cobalt sky

Pressing down on emerald green

Suspended in a colour scheme

Amid a battle of the shades

In a force field thrust of gravity

Snubbing triumph’s march parades

Doomsayers and Naysayers

 

Here we go to gloomy doom

They say our ending’s in the air

Will smash our planet into dust

Ancient runes predict despair

Another load of nonsense

Where the end of us is nigh

Worlds collide in woe betide
That any chump may prophesy

As usual with these dread campaigns

Prophets profit from prediction

Professing ancient evidence

This proves another contradiction

WAY OUT

 

Your picture in my mind's eye
I see you reaching out and calling
Waiting weighing heavily
In my sleep, I'm falling falling

Fevered twitching night bewitching
Drenched in fire perspiring
Confused in panic frenzies
Midnight patterns dark conspiring

Your voice is faint I'm listening
Is there news I need to know
The air is filled with energy
A thunderstorm about to blow

Locked inside my cryptic maze
A misplaced memory is a key
Something cut my tracer cord
No other way out I can see

Wayfaring

The train I ride is outward bound

Going nowhere I call home

A journey to wherever goes

Where the coastal waters roam

Meeting faces never seen

Who speak of greener stations

Telling me in brand new ways

Of other roads to new locations

Where passers by may raise a hat

At stranger’s foreign modes

A cursory glance a thought perchance

On both sides of the road

Transient Occurrence

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Blissful fleeting moments 
Define existence on a high
May not be kept possessions
Sweet torments passing by

We find them without searching
Like floating wishes by a well
On no occasion bought or sold
Remembered stories in farewell

Here today then one day gone

So fortunate we are

Impermanent though pertinent

Incredibly bizarre 

© C K Letts June 2021 

New Year’s Day

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New Year’s Day’s not any old day

Not yesterday or tomorrow

The only one in any New Year

A first of first that none can follow

 

It turns up at no special time 

Without too much to do

A lazy sense of can’t be bothered

Leaving next things up to you

 

So Happy New Year’s Day to you

Be brave try not to smirk

In muted morning afterwards

A sneaky reason not to work