Storms Prolonged

The round faced woman with the tight Jewish curls
Let's the sunshine sheen her face to milk chocolate brown
Red-faced I pass by complacent after storm
The mind's eye reset one more time.
The depth of the darkness and the thick thorny thoughts
Once more a surprise here at hindsight.
In the throes of the horror all ships had set sail for the shores of respite elsewhere hidden.
The fleet, an Armada, bedevilled being broken
Sunk e'erfore a sanctuary succeeding.
And now in the aftermath I salvage from wreckage the hope to once more move on forward
Yet a scar that runs deep now further extended
A reminder of a forest and bone frailty

20180412_184800

Trudell’s* Therapy

In the dappled moment deranged
The orange glow growing
Cancer chosen again.
The despair spelled out in Circus
The cold brought in from the spy
Douma denounced, despaired over, denied.
Sabre rattling no more
Giants braving the brawl
Borders inundated, shattered -
No divisions in blood.
A child's nightmare comforted
While one’s own sleep deprived
Fists pummelling the shadows, haunted again,
The dark days returned.
And the people despair
Or delight or don't care
And the people morphed out again:
No men in no man's land.

John Trudell

Freyed

In a vision of the moment cast aside,

and yet - with each intake of breath -

There would seem to be a harmony,

what's more - a dreaded repetition.

 

Why does the cycle present its terror

Except in the knowledge of what was before.

Therefore, no man feels stable, secure,

Nor draws comfort from that

which has become oh so predictable:

And in the tortured will to survive

Man surrenders life to existence.

 

© The Hairy Teacher, March, 2018

220px-Freyr_by_Johannes_Gehrts

Winter is coming… Again

(International Poetry Day 21 March, 2018)
The spring just turned and fled
Before my very eyes.
One day the warmth came, gone the next,
And again the dreaded ice.
I wonder if this year at all
We'll see anything but snow?
The white sheen spread across the land -
Though romantic - now must go!

© The Hairy Teacher, March, 2018

20180322_155925
About Me

If asked I’d say I’m:

a teacher, a philosopher, a father, and a writer but only a fool, I believe, would dare give this order a significance.

I believe in the day to day, and that “Men make their own importance”.

Budapest Life

My life in Budapest and my meandering thoughts on the matter!

Poetry & Short Stories

My poetry and other writings.

Budapest Reviews

My opinions on eateries, hostelries and drinking dens.

Thoughts&Things

The inner workings of my brain. Exposed.

Pride & Joy

My dear daughters. My raison d’être. A source of inspiration & frustration! 

Back to top