you're supposed to have roots
in the air or the ground
it doesn't matter where
the apricot tree
has its roots and
the fruit when it falls
high with the cloud
you pick in your small
fenced in orchard
before she can take a bite
abruptly sour
and you shoot the sky
to ward off even the
beaks of her birds
it's a wonder it grows
no one is allowed in but you
in the summertime
it's like burning your pages
in a pile of smoke
like erasing your memory and

I WAS LUCKY

His grandad brought me
Nestling in his big hand
A ninth birthday present
Obviously long planned

I was a young fox terrier
The smooth haired breed
Lucky was to be my name
I even had a leather lead

I soon adapted as a pet
Clearly loved by the boy
Taken daily for a walk
Even given a rubber toy

With a garden to explore
A soft bed based inside
Could I want for more
A warm home I can abide

Heard the expression
so and so is feckless
a put down I guess
but not sure I get this

For aside from the Irish
who say what the feck
Erin slang replacing “u” with an “e”
as a way to avoid being rude or disgusting
when someone makes the assessment
that someone is feckless
it just begs the question
what the heck is feck

The other side of my shadow,

a demon peeking around the corner,

I took a walk in the meadow,

feeling like inside possessed by a foreigner,

now its time to crawl down from the hill,

a new mountain with a higher summit,

on a search for something to fill,

30,000 feet in a plane about to plummet,

I cant feel time itself, its still,

background radiation in my soul,

she told me put it down, fill that hole,

getting enraged and out of control,

my demons mock me when I try,

Someday
I'll
stop
thinking
about
old lovers
and
letters
and
things
I
did
for
them
I'll
stop
worrying
about
what
got
broken
and
how
I
failed
to fix
it
I'll
stop
thinking
about
those
things
someday
but
not today...
not today

My tinnitus came out in sympathy
When I heard a Mozart symphony
It was like he’d got it in fer me
For the key he used was a minor G
And it sounded like a cacophony
Or the bells of campanology
at St Paul’s Damascene epiphany
which reminds me of an analogy
with the Beatle’s famed discography

“For Christ’s sake LET IT BE!”
Said Lennon to McCartney

And so he did

Why do they act so much like them?

Same used smile…

Same name…

Same use of words…

They have grown too familiar
To him in the pile.

His name of the figure
The one that’s filled with shame.

Every word couldn’t be filtered
It went on specific terms.

“They’re like us…
Like them.”

Way too much like
Them.

That gave me a random spark
to check on them,
to make sure they are
okay
every day.

If there ever was a time
I needed to find you sitting here beside me
it was when I finally realized
that loving look in your eyes
was startlingly real

If there ever comes a time
when you need to walk with me on the beach at sunrise
just know that I’ll always be there
even if I’ve left the earthly realm
and am just a memory

Something tells me this storyline
may not have what some would call a fairy tale ending
but understand no other love
no treasure trove no dream can touch
what I feel for you

The emotions of a situation mirrored by the weather.

In my thunderstorm that so hatefully grasps my throat, you are the strike of lightning that gives me adrenaline and the push to keep breathing for just one more second until it finally lets go.

In my pours of rain that almost drown me, and I can feel myself choke, you are the smell I love after the storm goes quiet and all there are is memories on the ground of what was.

A babbling stream, a peaceful lane
These are the things that I enjoy
As I walk on a summer's day
With a warm gentle breeze upon my face

A cottage in a field, with swirling smoke
A family sitting around ready to eat
Rich chicken soup and freshly baked bread
Then five little children all snug in their bed

A flitting bird upon the nest
Protecting her brood from unknown harm
A cow chewing cud all gentle and calm
Then sheep and one dog in one accord