Picture courtesy: Internet. If you own this, kindly let me know. I am willing to give you credit by adding name or link. Also, willing to take it down.
An empty seat awaits your presence and when you occupy it, I will be rowing you silently through an ancient route. You sit there on the other end of the boat and look around. As you will find me absorbed in rowing you choose not to ask me that one question and you keep it for later. Then when you gaze the grasslands and the infinite sky a shimmering golden breeze kisses your face and you feel strange. For you know this breeze and this recollection will make you feel like you know every pixel of what you see and you know every grain of your feeling. Like you know everything about everything here for ages. Like something is speaking to you and waiting for you to break your silence. Yet, your silence is your only language, your only means to express. You look at me and I raise my head. In the moment, something in us knows that a word will be too much. Your question drops. And, a wordless journey on an ancient route goes on..
I own nothing The ideas I present The feelings I feel The thoughts I think And, the words I used Or continue to use to express myself. Everything, ever that has been Has been through: Absorption, assimilation, memorization Recollection, repetition and more memorization.
The music was there with something afresh
it had found and picked up on the way
Something perhaps
with live music’s lapse
that made it quite special today
Seemed the musicians had put in their all
throwing energy full in the licks
As they could not perform
‘Cos now’s not the norm
so they put all they had in the mix
I’d like to go out walking
but need legs to get me there
and as one’s out of action
and I don’t have a spare
I’m having to make do
with sitting with a smile
as a hobble and a limp is all
I’ll manage for a while
August Bank Holiday Monday
sun is shining and it’s warm
so to the beach I should be heading
as you would ‘cos it’s the norm
Yet instead I sit in A&E
my leg still causing pain
Not my first choice I’ll admit
to be in here again
Strangely though it was the beach
just last Wednesday night
where I sustained the injury
the reason for my plight
Adaptation is a precious thing
as it proves that we are able
to make the very best of things
when cards are on the table
I speak of course of Covid
and the lockdown and the change
it’s brought worldwide to all of us
as we all re-arrange
There’s been loss and there’s been sadness
as the pandemic’s taken hold
taking toll from everyone
from young to very old
The knock at the door
I remember it well
though forty-six years have now passed
The vicar right there
with something to share
for a slap in the face that would last
It was anger I felt
with a fist in the air
that my father had left in that way
And I heard not a sound
from that hole in the ground
as I stood on that February day
To the beginning son, go back with me
Remember how I stood beside you when…
No, you only remember my absence.
Here we return with precision, an arrow
Fired by the great Tell who reveals us.
The apple on our heads, the gift of Eve
Who saw in us the beginning of Love.
Poet's Corner 