Questions, questions!
Who needs answers?
Who needs clarity
in the everflux?
Why do we search for guarantees,
and yet accept our evolution?
Shall we sometime reach a point
that will please us all no end?
Not if we are to remain, I say!
Not at all, unless we die…
©TheHairyTeacher2013
Later than expected
I nursed the homeward journey to my taste.
I was quite early but as ever later than I’d like.
I wish’d the time to be manipulated but maybe now I have a reason,
but given none, I ‘d be mistaken to think it better.
I’d saddle side the trojan deity,
the flagrant half of my depravity:
secrets laid, a secret’s bared upon the soils of Spring time’s sowing.
I want an evening only dreaming,
the morning’s set a path for me.
I had a notion of my journey once before.
Upon the way to where it is I go
I feel the trembling, the loss of everything.
I miss the way it was when the oath (or path) was empty.
©TheHairyTeacher2013
Another Christ has risen
Another fast forgotten
Another great day of celebration
That makes us better than them.
Another year has passed
Another chance is lost
Another reason to abhor
That stagnant church profusion.
Another child baptised
Another lamb to the lies
Another “soul” converted
To that hateful, spiteful, plan.
©TheHairyTeacher2013
I know that once I made a promise to never stop loving,
but I’ve forgotten to whom to,
and I’ve broken it a hundred times.
Through the ages I have realised that it bothers me more –
how we are, us humans, than how we’d ever dare
to ignore it, with a distraction such as love.
It keeps us alive, it’s true, but I’ve also learnt of fascists
who’d rather have died than stop loving…
Am I the coward after all!
©TheHairyTeacher2013
In skipping this the time still passed
the page left blank not long did last,
but recognised my error sown
returned again so- not alone.
And as the words and ink did dry
I wondered at my reason why
I did decide to choose to fill
the page that, forgot, could blank be still.
©TheHairyTeacher2013
The night that takes me home could have been an evening,
but then the snows again appeared, deceiving.
And all the Spring incline once more a muddle
As snowdrift veils the snowmelt puddle.
Again the fields are white and all cars too.
The very Henry’s dream in negative hue.
The slow retirement -a childish glee.
Where age perceives its doom,
youth dreams infinity.
©TheHairyTeacher2013
Afternoon tram, the smell of perfume, aftershave and youth.
Some more aged try blending in with the chaos,
and I’m reminded of what some students said:
“the old are so annoying.”
Am I old to them or am I still young if but mature?
Do I become old when I find them irritating?
No, they irritate each other! Don’t they?
Am I OLD if I even have to ask these questions?
My stop comes…
©TheHairyTeacher2013
Picture this.
A very sunny day though not yet hot.
Still cool enough around the edges
to feel my short sleeves.
Sitting on a bench at a busstop waiting.
Behind me at the old chapel steps
three vagrants sit.
Chatting, loitering,
and one with a kitchen sink –
It’s steel skin shining in the promised heat.
©TheHairyTeacher2013
Tick tock
a moment spent without hellos goodbyes:
indifference.
That just sheer chance that had us without a single thought.
And then we relinquished all our sense
and beckoned chatter, debate, discussion…
all in a guise.
With sudden haste
we watched the dreamy haze
against the lone strap sharpened;
we saw the moment
and its langour disappear.
Replaced by haste,
by waste,
by every other thing.
We were removed to this rank rhythm.
The tired mind, the floating heart,
now reeling –
they’re being wrenched apart.
Thump thump
the beat begins
the dukes are set
and into another aspect
we will breach.
Note of interest http://www.phrases.org.uk/meanings/put-up-your-dukes.html
©TheHairyTeacher2013
For the briefest of moments
– not here on the tram
with the blue-eyed, old woman
looking on –
But for the shortest of snippets
in my life as I lead it,
I felt everything –
and everything had become one.
©TheHairyTeacher2013
