Category Archives: Writing

The failing virtue

measured by the

rising vice.

Both in place

according to the

guilt complex.

And so a mind

made redundant seeks

to balance

the equation.

In search of

spirituality

it shakes its

heathen flag

against the

grey sky of

an early morn.

Beyond the traffic’s

tempest

there floats to

reason, alms:

the supplication

necessary

through the toxic

fumes.

In search again

in search as

always.

Enlightened I

shall carry

opposites – as questions –

in a gently tightened

fist;

ready to pulse,

to fizz,

to judge.

Ready to open –

extended…

The palm.

 

©TheHairyTeacher2013

On a cold grey balcony
on a cold grey afternoon
sitting snuggly, on
the edge of chill –
with a new grey
cardigan
and a cup of earl grey tea,
a breeze for a second
took my attention from reading.
The tea’s paper tag
‘black tea’ it announced
fluttered in this breeze
on a white window.
The air still and colourless
but grey at its depth –
white and black
all shift to grey –
as I sat back,
reading my book of
short stories.
The briefest of moments
just then captured me
and the slightest of breezes
moved me to think
moved my environment,
The fine hairs on my cheeks;
I felt its freshness
its message.
I was alive.

 

©TheHairyTeacher2013

I smell the streets –
They smell me.
We rub up against each other –
Knowingly.
In the shade
The stink still falters,
While in the heat its perfume alters.

The dead, the dying,
The unmoving few
In doorways drink, that’s
Nothing new.
The swank, the silly
The squandered dreams,
Chase behind- unknowingly
on these social seams.
The pretty, the wealthy,
They speak without clue
Of injustice and poverty
– As if they really knew!
The diet of greed
Has led us astray
Each one of us guilty
For it being this way.
Tomorrow again I’ll stalk
Shadows and dreams.
I’ll count myself lucky as ever
As if I know what that means.

 

©TheHairyTeacher2013