(inspired by M’Lady Gwenyth….. 😉 )
Those fragrant blossoms red that are the same though they may go by any other name,
E’en indeed those enchanting violets blue, yea verily, I include them too,
That dextrous sugar, of questionable fame, which can hide poison in evil’s game,
Forsooth, anon, this much is true, none of these things compares to you.
As if no one had ever considered
Drifting time, attraction withered,
Umbrage taken, but truth be told,
Lust fades, gets a little bit old,
Tickle the senses, that’s what I say,
Ego boosts can help in a big way,
Rough and tumble with a friend,
Your Love will thank you in the end!
The time is now,
The Walrus said,
Not some abstract
In your head,
“Once Upon A Time”,
“Happily Ever After”,
That shit just
Fills me with laughter,
“Just a fairytale”
Well, that’s another,
Because let me tell you something brother,
Fairytales aren’t harmless,
For they lead you away,
From the truth,
That the only real thing is today.
Having flown a long way the day before,
I realize I need exercise,
So I head out my sister’s door,
To the wall of heat that’s there to greet,
This Scandinavian, no longer versed in,
The nuances of the humidex,
How the temperature never ever reflects,
The actual heat and its affects,
So off I go onto Bartley Bull Parkway,
And I stick to it because I figure that way,
If the heat starts to melt my brain,
I can still make my way back again,
And walking my reflecting mind sees,
In Stockholm it’s 18 degrees,
But not here, as I start to sweat and totter,
And find myself searching somewhere for some water,
I buy some in a dollar store, to keep me alive,
(though I notice a dollar’s a buck twenty-five)
And as I wander on further in heat and in haze,
I’m amused by the thoughts my mind has in its daze,
For I observe as I go on my Bartley Bull track,
Italian & Chinese grandmas look the same from the back,
Soon I’m growing concerned, for odd as it sounds,
My mirage is a mailman doing his rounds,
Though it seems he is real as we chat about heat,
And the problems he has with the dogs on his beat,
He says when he was in Cuba last year they got snow,
I ask “Are you serious?” he laughs and says no,
Then with just a few steps I’m back at my sis,
Sweat from my brow greeting pavement with hiss,
And what North American wonder greets me?
I open the door to a wall of A/C!
(July 18, 2013 I travelled from my home in Stockholm to Toronto in my homeland of Canada. I took a walk through my sister’s neighbourhood that first morning, Friday July 19th. This is a true and accurate reflection of that walk.)
Hair grows profusely on my chin,
But not so much on the top,
Up there it’s getting sort of thin,
Yet my beard will never stop,
If I turned my head upside down,
My hair’d be all the rave,
And the thinning top nearer the ground,
Means soon I wouldn’t have to shave.
Gluttony, oh gluttony,
Lying latent within me,
Until unchecked spontaneity,
Takes control so hungrily,
Then I’ll eat everything I see,
Overstretching my ability,
Not listening to my stomach’s plea,
Yes I’m in pain, but can’t let be!
Sooooo much to do! Sooooo litte time!
But you’ll get through,
That hill you’ll climb!
Just look ahead,
Don’t look behind!
Don’t be misled,
Focus your mind!
Then pretty soon,
You’ll surely find,
You’ve done so much,
In so little time!
(for my niece Jennifer, who is a young teacher, finishing off her school year, and getting married in 26 days. She’s a bit frayed at the moment. 😉 )
So busy, like a little bee,
Need to make some time for “me”,
Before myself goes on the lam,
And I forget just who I am,
Before my own identity,
Is just a “me” who used to be.
I dare you.
Strip down,
Stand naked in the summer rain,
Late in the evening,
And try to think about even one of your problems.
I dare you.
The circle turns, the world moves on,
Generations have come and gone,
In some ways it seems we’ve evolved,
In other ways we’ve just revolved,
We’ve handed down from dad to son,
A bag of tricks already spun,
Who knows how far back the chain goes?
With no sign it’s in its death throes,
My granddad not a dad you’d call,
Still dad forgave, mistakes and all,
Then Dad left us with naught to live on,
I learned to forgive and to move on,
It seems now I live my destiny,
Waiting for my sons to forgive me.
Random Misanthrope 