Speech (for Trinity and Renee)

Speech develops slowly and specially
Shapes form into words which are
Not necessarily the shape expected

But what can you expect when
I am only 20 months old? I
Do my best to get my mouth around

The words you throw at me daily. Some
Easy to mouth; others I look at you
Strangely because you seem to think

I am 20 years old rather than months.
But that’s OK, cause I know you want
To help me grow into this strange speaking

World of adults, and while I can say
Ma, even Oma, and certainly Shazza and have
Recently impressed you with my best

Attempts at hand and foot. I don’t know
How long it will take to get my tongue
Around G-R-U-M-P-S. I mean I love

The man, and enjoy his company, not to mention
His dog – Shazza! – but I fear it will take
Just a little while to say that awkward name.

Grief

Grief comes in so many forms
But do we recognise
the longings
the cravings
the loneliness

Grief stops us in our tracks
If it springs a surprise
stealing
halting
killing

Grief affects in different ways
And our reactions show
weeping
laughing
holding

Grief takes time to work through
Hugs, cards, words may help
the mourning
adjusting
moving on

But grief affects us differently
And so we adjust
in our own way
in our own time
in our own space

Belief

Belief sets free
Or does it entangle
In ropes too long
And entwined for
Freedom to exist?

Unbelief sets in
Among the strands
Of thoughts which
Tumble through my
Mind unconvincingly

Belief occurs only
After unbelief
Has been cornered
Dismantled, tied up
But am I free?

Needs

Felt needs
perceived needs
real needs

Do you really need
all those needs
or is it accurate
to say
you only want
some of them?

Wants, needs
confusion reigns
I want what I need
I need what I want
Modern society
encapsulated
in this confusion
should (a want or a need?)
bring us all
to our knees.

Worm Farms

Industrial little beavers
the worms that is
not the farms

Although the end product
suggests the farms
are very productive
because of the work of the worms

However,
industrial little beavers
is an interesting description.

I wonder if beavers
achieve as much as worms
considering a weight to work ratio?

One is tempted to think not
as the worm reproduces itself
endlessly munching its
hermaphrodite way
through the vegetable wastes
we so willingly feed it,
and its thousand companions

What a blessing!
hidden away,
avoiding the limelight
simply munching, mulching, mushing
turning waste into wonderland.

Rich dank soil
befitting
a true organic farm.

The End of the Day

Tiredness creeps in
Eyelids droop
Wanting to close
But knowing
Sleep is not available yet

The end of the day
Occurs typically
When one retires
Horizontally
Reclining on a bed

However it’s known
Other possibilities
Exist such as
In the pub
With one’s mates drinking

Or it may be that
Bathtime
For the kids
Dominates
Prior to relaxing

With the mate that counts
And is there
To rub your back
Gently massaging
So the end of the day

Is no longer a pain
But fades
Into slumberland
Gradually
Drifting into dreamtime

Feeling

Tiredness creeps in
Debilitates
If not dealt with

Time off restores
Or postpones
The energy levels

Meandering along
Below par
For too long a time

Philosophical conflict
Drains the soul
Contributing to

Lethargy and
Lack of interest
In many areas

But life is not done
Miraculously
At the beginning

Of a new day
Refreshed
One looks ahead

Contemplating the
Possibilities
Which not so long ago

Seemed out of reach
Crazily
Forgotten because

They had been sadly
Overpowered
By the burden of

The present moment
Generously
Reinvigorated again.

Challenges and changes

Take the L out of
Challenges
Twice removed
And a little e
And you have changes
In language but
Not in nature.



* * * * * * * * * *

Is it possible
For there to be
Changes without
Challenges?

By their very nature
Challenges bring
Change to whomever
Is challenged

O boring life
but without strife?
without change
without challenge

Dog & Ball

This is life
to chase
to catch
to wait
to jump
to return

There is no meaning
other than
running
panting
resting
sleeping
eating

This is life
wagging my tail
sleeping in the sun
eating my food
chasing the ball
pleasing my master

Justice

Justice exists
We still believe
But where
In this fair land?

In our minds or
In the tortured lives
Of those
Who have been banned

From society
That’s what we call it
Or from
Returning to threats

And worse, of course
In their lost homeland
Why think
Of this that sets

Neurons on edge
And remembers
The lost
And those unable

To escape their
Past history
The truth
Become a fable