Author Archives: blitzken

The Fatherly Chain of Forgiveness

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.

A Treatise On The Art Of Wooing

1)
When one is entering the courtship dance,
Make  every effort to increase your chance,
By trying to reveal the inner you,
(Which is what one does when trying to woo),
Don’t bother shopping to try and impress,
Kind gestures and words get more bang for less,
Gifts should be simple, few and far between,
Chosen or made to show just what you mean,
For the truth is you won’t get very far,
If you can’t cleverly show who you are!

2)
Wooing should not be a strain,
Close your wallet, just use your brain,
For some intrique, some fun,  and some laughter,
Will more likely get you what you’re after.

3)
There was a young woman named Kimberly,
Hoped  a certain man would woo her you see,
She wanted him to be charming,
Clever and disarming,
And not crass like the other fish in the sea.

Chambered Heart

(On a song writing course we were given 15 minutes to write stream of consciousness. This is my result.)

Heart beats, hands shake,
Feeling like a big fake,
In my head it’s butterflies with wings,
But I can barely find the strings,
On my guitar, which I know well,
But just right now you couldn’t tell,
That when I’m calm and home alone,
Not one missed note,
Not one missed tone,
But that’s the nature of the beast,
That must be tamed,
And then released,
The beast that ruffles every feather,
So sometimes I am not sure whether,
I can do this properly,
I need to train the beast to see,
That this is where I’m supposed to be,
That with the presence of a quiver,
Slight tremolo and nervous shiver,
This is where my light’s revealed,
Where broken parts of me get healed,
Despite the twitching ruffled feather,
This is where it comes together,
That behind the nervousness there’s more,
A feeling anchored to my core,
That there within my chambered heart,
Music is the one true part,
The sacred chalice, golden key,
That shapes and shines the inner me,
And though I really can’t say why,
And know that I might never fly,
My hope will never yield its place,
So keep the sky above me open,
Just in case.

Less of More

Used to be a vegetarian,
That’s what I was before,
Although the things I ate were less,
I managed to eat more,
Now decades on I’ve changed,
Reverted to an omnivore,
I’m trying to learn to eat less,
Though the food choices are more,
More of less, or less of more,
The thing that strikes me now,
It matters somewhat what you eat,
But matters much more how!

Dr.Seuss Moves On

Old fish, new fish,
Sometimes blue fish,
This one is passive-agress-fish,
Makes you think it wants to stay,
But nips your heels anyway,
No, no!
This will never do fish!
No need to even think this through fish.
I don’t want that sort of play fish,
So I’m sending you awayish,
Sorry if it makes you bluish,
But out with old fish,
In with new fish.

Silly-nuss

(another rediscovered little gem from years gone by….)

Sometimes we is us, and us is we,
Unless we really have to pee,
Then us is us, and we is wee,
Until we go behind a tree,
Us can be two, and sometime’s three,
Or maybe more, haha, teehee,
Sometimes so many we’s, it’s us,
But then we have to rent a bus.

YUCK & YUM

(Found myself perusing ancient lists of things I’ve written, and often completely forgotten about, both the piece and the reason for writing it. This is one such.)

Some things suck,
passing the buck,
runs of bad luck,
splashed by a truck,
slime and guck,
people that don’t give a fuck,
those things are Yuck.
But then there’s some,
your dear old mum,
your favourite chum,
the taste of plum,
a place to cum,
a rhythmic drum,
a guitar’s strum,
those things are Yum.
(If any of this leave you pissed,
well go ahead, make your own list…)

THE FLIRT

It’s ever so delirious,
Enticing and mysterious,
Not knowing who is serious,
Or which one has the nerve,
It’s a dangerous position,
Two bodies headed for collision,
Each one making a decision,
Will they go forward? Or swerve?