How did I get to be me?
Where do I stand among ‘We?’
Where do we stretch?
For I’d like to fetch?
From the roots of my ancestry tree
How long must it take to reveal?
What too many years can conceal
All the living that
By coincidence cast
In a spin of a lineage wheel
As I delve down the alleys now gone
Visiting stones laid upon
Is it likely I’ll see?
Early versions of me
Or a light that was never outshone
© C K Letts 2020
Drifting at the speed of sleep
Where the time is never when
Spellbound in a moving space
Transitorily back again
In a swirl of homegrown shapes
Curio’s not tracked or traced
Where destinations have no purpose
Like eyelid patterns interlaced
In the blanket warmth of dreaming
On Sunday mornings wide expanse
To the disconnected ringing bells
Simply found again by chance
When bicker, gripe and avarice
Infiltrate the bottom line
Where promises made are undercut
In a pigpen barbed with twine
Every strong link bond is cast aside
For the selfish fleeting gain
In a gold rush grab to steal the march
Leaving grandeur sought in vain
There sits the naked emperor
Riding high on a king’s commode
Saving time whilst dumping excess
A restroom ploy that overflowed
Nested in a bone-made box
Is that mindful calculator
Speaking when not spoken to
A thought suggestion stimulator
When it first found itself aware
To consider circumstances
Interpreting those outside hints
Of sound effects and sideways glances
Multi-billion tools at hand
It begins to write its handbook
Amid a puzzle maze of mysteries
That came together by a fluke
Send this day to elsewhere
I feel I do not need it here
In a place where nothing happens
Without gloss, a flat veneer
Some days arrive so suddenly
Unexpected, some might say
Disadvantaged by agendas
Lacking helpful parts to play
So if this day should come to you
And tie you tightly in a bind
Let it pass, it cannot stay too long
A perfect state that’s left behind
Upon the table
Pieces spread
Each brick a dream
Each gear a thread
Lego’s marvel
Sleek and bold
Silver arrows stories told.
Hands assemble
Mind engaged,
Precision, patience
Fully staged.
Mercedes-AMG the key
In miniature
A thrill for me
Axles click
And engines hum
Suspension set
The race begun
Every wing
And sticker placed
Detail fine
No time to waste.
The W14 E takes form
Ready for the chequered dawn
In Lego’s hands and builder’s art
The spirit of the track takes heart
picture by Egor Komarov
