This year at last
is drifting further each day
Like a wild world in turmoil
Hopes are swimming away
Poisoned promises
Have turned the air sour
Cancelling worn-out moments
That could have made a new hour
The last bells are ringing out
Bringing messages few
Weak lights on a dark night
Are shrinking the view
Photo by JC Gellidon on Unsplash
Secret Cindy steals away
To find her heart’s desire
Until she gets the fire
Her mood is not for sharing
Her only counsel is herself
Meeting inward points of view
Discussing old books on her shelf
Secret Cindy making waves
Causing early waves to slow
Swept back on the beach again
Where discoveries steal her show
She’s not singing any old song
Nor calling out new tunes
Thoughts are raining down on her
Crowding out her afternoons
Mother Malevolent
pulling strings
Power projector
Queen of schemes
Thought injector
Spiteful dreams
Cauldron conniver
fostering screams
Pursuing the spoils
In drowning streams
Begin a rhyme with gobbledygook
To raise a hullabaloo
I can’t think of anything politer
Than words impossible to glue
Avoiding Kakorrhaphiophobia
Finifugal almost beaten
My aim to be largiloquent
When ickle hardly eaten
I twist my tongue Saccadic
In a cattywampus stew
Pulling up my salopettes
I now find mabble overdue
Gobbledygook: a meaningless language
Hullabaloo: a commotion
Kakorrhaphiophobia: fear of failure
Finifugal: afraid of finishing anything
Largiloquent: talkative; full of words
Ickle: Little
Saccadic: jerky; twitching
Cattywampus: askew
Salopettes: high-waisted skiing pants with shoulder straps
Mabble: to wrap up
Man at a bar reading a newspaper (Flo-Master pen and pastel) by Norman Cornish (1919–2014) @GrimArtGroup
Back then, a quiet read
No telephone in sight,
no exasperating ring
no uninvited shadows
crowd my light
Standing calmly checking items
An empty pub my sanctuary.
Before the filling magic hour
With cool projected parity
Prepared to take a light year nap
Completed setting-up controls
No need to make a homeward map
Just float around the starlight shoals
I’m thinking neoterically
A keen eye on potential
Bouncing on a stellar beam
Espial gravity beneficial
Who knows where I’m off to
Most unlikely I’ll return
Those pieces I once called a place
No longer my concern
For those of us unshaven mugs
Beware of bristling woes
Below the chin, where collars rub
Spikey problems pose
Lest the lower neck is bristle-free
One may encounter needle stabs
Syringe-like scratches painfully
Giving the screaming habdabs
Brizleblades are ambush-ready
Impulsive spikes on neckline rubs
Razor-sharp incision digs
These teeny-weeny stickpin stubs
Money loans invisible tricks
Make too much of nothing
For as it turns out promises
May end in mattress stuffing
Promises not responsible
To undermine a special trust
Eventually, the truth will out
The way difficulties must
Exhilaration with celebration
Manic moments of ‘right now’
Where the one-way ticket riders
Hope to find their holy cow
He was beauty-blessed, self-centred
With an ultimate enhancement
No jewel or precious metal
Could embellish his advancement
Enchanted by hallucinations
His importance absolute with love
No greater joy could be bestowed upon
For there was nothing else above
Without stain or indiscretion
To dim his glimmer pressed upon
Surrounded by a crowd that bowed
Affirmed eternally their swan
Histories made in memories
Shooting pictures from the hip
Recording happy holidays
On a break or special trip
Spells fixed for reminiscences
In frames and shuffle stacks
Found in albums or shoe boxes
Some as-yet unopened packs
Candid situations caught
Captured poses unexpected
Adding detail to a story
Where truth lies unsuspected
From the complexity of being
To the state of all gone by
Where the hall evaporated
In final whispers of a sigh
In the briefest time, fugacious
Freefalling in that way
Following an abstract light
Toward the aftermath of play
Along a level playing field
On such a personal parade
No conversation or opinion
A final primal escapade
Everything will strive to be
The way it’s always been
Changes lead to penalties
Of festering flow unclean
To inflict those vigorous changes
On a leadership machine
Is not an overnight affair
Or finger-snappy intervene
It’s what the public visualises
Of the benefits long-term
If ‘something new’ becomes belated
Then past times will reaffirm
On a quiet November Thursday
A different time unsealed
Staring out uneasily
Unclear what then revealed
Dynamically, it seemed as though
Something odd we didn’t get
Had turned up unexpectedly
A circus twist reset
We stared agog with wonder
Struggled hard for clarity
At the size of many painted folk
Demanding more prosperity
A place to be misunderstood
Where law was second-guessed
To wealth’s self-preservation
Leaving have-nots unaddressed
Money as you like it
In your bank or purse
If you put it that way
For better or for worse
Something you can count on
A hidden strength
To see you through
A form of quiet interest
Growing old stuff into new
Providing chancy options
You might seek to rearrange
Taking benefits from differences
By gaining much from change
Money is the backbone
Desiring faith in your belief
A means to measure valuables
When in need of some relief
Dancing by the bonfire, hot
Keep clear and not too near
The spectre of November nights
Sparkled party of the year
Heat the soup and mull the ale
Fire the sky with awe
Remember each November
That terrible night before
Spare a penny for the Guy
Whose night of massacre exposed
A brutal time of mass destruction
Self-righteous die-hards juxtaposed
When essentials are nowhere about
Vanishing at odd times, they do
Instinctively seeming to sneak off elsewhere
Inaccessible as if acting on cue
In our house, we have a provision
On hand to uncover our loss
Our materfamilias, Pauline
Locates rolling stones without moss
She can ferret each corner or rut
Analysing fragmentary facts
Like a ‘KC’ in court detection is sport
The ‘missing’ no chance to relax
Mislaying can frustrate one’s needs
Leaving losers no loose ends to share
With Pauline, we learn, no stone left to turn
Regains the misplaced from despair
Panic stations tremble by
City quivering fantasies
Shuddering and shouldering
Locked in wild conspiracies
Anticipations meaningless
Many places one could go
Another rampant Friday race
Wishing time was not so slow
Posters proudly brandishing
What any buyer might afford
Where disappointed money goes
A lawless case of no reward
