Checkpoint

Calendar day, last but one
Still chance to get those few things done
That can’t wait till a brand New Year
Comes strutting in to raucous cheer

Eve of New Year, now in sight
The partying into the night
Friends, family, all gathered round
With happy laughter, joyful sound

Fireworks galore, shooting high
Some splitting air with shrieking cry
Explosions meant to chase away
Bad spirits that would gladly stay

Quietness abounds, morning breaks
Behind us then the gives and takes
The Young One leads a thoughtful throng
Along that road, one year less long

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Christmas Greetings

Image courtesy Simon Howden

To visitors, friends, far and wide

I wish you all at this Yuletide

Much joy, and happiness and peace

From warmth that loving hearts release

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First flurry

The festive time is nearing
And not a lot to say
The weather’s drab and drizzly still
On this last autumn day

The spirit seen in Christmas trees
And Santa’s everywhere
Excitement in the children’s eyes
And decorations’ glare

A warmth to keep the cold at bay
I would that all may share
Both in the heart and fingertips
Enough to calm despair

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Thousandth

So here I sit to think what I’ll
deliver for the thousandth time.
Well, first my thanks to you who come
to visit and to comment on
my ramblings: subjects quite diverse
in prose and mostly rhyming verse.

I much enjoy your company
that bits and bytes make possible.
A social gathering designed
to air the thoughts that spring to mind;
share joy and sadness that pertain
to days exciting and mundane.

Although the Twitter sirens call
with powers to quip and mesmerize
a blog can offer broader charms:
while welcoming with open arms
it serves to share those pearls that rise
stirred by the muse in gentler guise.

A new millennium is near
just one more step and I’ll be there
advancing on time’s ladder tall
the past below always on call.
I hope you’ll join the climb with me.
Where will it lead? We’ll wait and see.

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The Net tightens

Viruses and malware
The scourge of Internet
With adverts, propaganda
A cocktail of regret

Let’s add those predatory
Who seek just to cause ill
A mix that’s most disturbing
No more the same old thrill

When once, inflamed, unbridled,
One reached out to explore
Beyond the old horizons
New worlds of good rapport

With power and greed usurping
One’s freedom to express
The hope is in raised voices
Against those who’d oppress

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Snippets uno

Trimmed from the hedge of wonder that stimulates its growth

Image “Solitary Calm” courtesy Dominic Harness

Sitting on the terrace in the evening calm

Play with my eyes, oh setting Sun
Disrupt these thoughts that rise unwilled
Burn them with your rays till cinders fall
And grant a moment free of longing’s call.

A message arrives via the Internet

A distant voice is heard, a faceless joy,
That rides on waves now lapping on my shore
Delivering their message sweet and true
Coming as it does from faithful you

Sad moment

No mind, no matter, just the chatter
Ghosts that have no need to natter
Haunting me each night and day
Seems they’re destined here to stay

Quantum way

Half in, half out, rotating door
Spinning gateway to two worlds
What waits is known when I emerge
When all uncertainties converge

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Season’s Greetings

Image “Merry Christmas” courtesy Idea go

Once more, the season has arrived
And so I say to you
May Christmas be for you a time
Of merriment most due
And if for you it can’t be so
Then I just wish you well
And better days to come, my friend
When tolls the New Year’s bell
Yes, “Peace on Earth” prayed for each year
Is still so far away
But goodwill can bring sunshine on
The very darkest day

I regret due to illness not having been able to respond to the work of others lately

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Wishful thinking

Christmas comes but once a year
for which some give thanks most sincere
while others long its warmth and mirth
its message clear for peace on Earth.
A time to laugh, a time to cry,
search memories of those gone by,
of tearing paper, singing choirs,
imbibing, stuffing, logs on fires;
of oneness with those gathered near,
of loneliness oft shared with fear,
of hope born of austerity,
of wishes for how things could be.
Old Santa’s once more on his way
and some he’ll miss though many pray.

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Born again

It may be your birthday today
Together with someone I know.
The years trip on by
Whether we laugh or cry.
Getting older is part of the show.

If it is your birthday today
I wish you good health and success.
In all that you do
May you find profit too
But retain some degree of finesse.

If it is your birthday today
I hope that your troubles are few
But if you are down
And this verse lifts a frown
Then it seems I have written on cue.

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Creative decisions

The American multimillionaire and scientist Craig Venter has just synthesised artificial life, mixing four chemicals off his lab shelf to make a living microbe. His new microbe, which he calls Synthia, behaves like any other, dividing and dividing to generate millions of identical offspring.

Author’s note: One might think that a discussion between immortal beings would be irrelevant, being all knowing and all seeing as they are, but it seems that they do it nevertheless.

The Creator is working in one of the huge laboratories with strange looking creatures (which I shall call Aids) doing all sorts of strange unfathomable (to us) things. One of them stands watching at the Creator’s side as another galaxy reaches completion. 

‘May I say something?’ says the Aid.

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Threesome

Universality

If the universe always was just as it is
what man sees as he peers into space
then there must be another somewhere in the crowd
that can look up with awe on its face.

All the wonders we see as unique as they are
will be products of what’s gone before
for how large or how small and how short or how tall
all’s recycled to make more and more.

Condemned

A tiny fly
flits here and there,
prevented in its flight
by walls and windows
doors and floors
unhelpful in its plight.

Ark

I refer here to the kingdoms of biology

I dreamt that I found a new planet
and took all the animals there,
all plants and those of other kingdoms,
my kind showing kindness and care.

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Rodent residential

In a cold empty room
lives a mouse called Jerome
at the top of the stairs
in a place he calls home.

And he often feels sad
when he’s nothing to do
sitting thinking of her
of the one who’d be true.

Still he hopes, eyes alert
while he’s seeking for food
lower down where the smells
help him out of his mood.

He has searched everywhere
that was safe to explore
but no scent has he caught
of Miss Mousy Galore.

She might suddenly come
through the crack in the wall
the gap under the door.
He might just hear her call.

How his little heart beats
when he sees in his dreams
those bright eyes full of love
and her soft coat that gleams.

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Ever a stranger

Acquaintances enough I’ve had
while travelling so long
but nothing like a bonding
as lyrics to a song.

The friend I really needed
was one I never met
or didn’t recognize then.
Perhaps there was regret.

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Year of truth

To those who celebrate New Year
one wish must be to end the fear,
uncertainty, and worldly woes;
to hear more from those who oppose
injustice in whatever guise
that in the face of kinship flies.

Look into eyes that try to read
in yours the trust that they might need
and smile then with your inner light
to show your willingness to fight
to preserve values on the wane
that some look down on with disdain.

These thoughts I share with you out there.
As fellow humans we must care
enough to make a difference now
and so I hope that you will vow
with me to further liberty,
bring truth to those who do not see.

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Christmas miscellany

Photo courtesy Luigi Diamanti

While you’re reading this
someone’s getting a kiss
under the mistletoe.
Lips pursed and eyes closed
if it’s but a friend,
but with more affection
if there’s a connection.

There’s a tree
with a fetish for earrings,
glistening in the candles’
warm light,
and a star
pointing up to the ceiling
as a crown
makes the whole
feel just right.

Mysterious parcels
waiting for the ones
for whom their contents are meant:
some large, others small,
some sit squat, some stand tall,
some are hard, others soft,
perhaps bent.
All designed to bring joy
whether or not a toy,
wrapped in love
of the giving
well spent.

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Future world

Have you got a future?
Well I’d like one too
Nothing really fancy
With nice things to do

If I could find someone
As you seem to me
Perhaps we together
Could then find the key

To chase away sorrow
And banish the fear
Bring new warmth and sunshine
To this coming year

Whatever befell us
We’d take in our stride
With two hearts to guide us
Those feelings inside

If I shared that future
With someone like you
Then I might be happy
With nice things to do.

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Rising damp

There seems to be a glitch in the plans of the elite to rule the world and that’s the rise of China, Russia and Iran as a block against the imperialist expansion of the West. There is a risk for the elite that gold will return as the basis for trade eliminating fiat paper money to the shredder. A new currency will arise based on gold; so that how much gold you own determines how rich you are and no longer how much money you can print while living off the ordinary hard working folks.
These bankers and their cronies are so full of themselves as they blunder ahead convincing each other that they are the chosen saviors of the world, with mad ideas about living for ever and expanding their superior genes into the cosmos to force the rest of the Universe into submission.
Let’s build an earth sized statue to he who said it first, John Emerich Edward Dalberg Acton, first Baron Acton (1834–1902). This historian and moralist, who was otherwise known simply as Lord Acton, expressed the opinion in a letter to Bishop Mandell Creighton in 1887:
“Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men.”
If only we could learn to cooperate to the benefit of all instead of building walls and pouring burning oil on those approaching our gates and attacking others purely for material gain, our world would, without any insurmountable deleterious effects, evolve into a natural state. Life and death are not beginnings and endings and only our illusionary fears try to maintain the form of our being beyond both extremes. Our essence is transmutable and cannot be destroyed – that is the fact that must be swallowed and digested. Our task is to do the best we can to build a world in which our children can progress and function optimally without fear or hindrance, a world in which all are one.
The laws of the universe demand it.

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Lost in the crowd

This poem arose from my being witness to yet another display of
intolerance

Misshapen dreams cast out by mirror’s play
Can pierce the heart of those who fall as prey
To worldly shadows born to hide the sun
That lights the way for innocence to run

Cold intellect can stay pure passions aims
And push and prod until one plays its games
Another lost to mediocrity
As Nature sheds a tear for what could be

If only all could see that we’re as one
And that apart there’s nothing can be won
That wanton bigotry and hate must cease
Will man return to sanity and peace.

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Feeling the heat

I’m tired of twisted lies and strangled truths
Of tales laced ever with such poisonous doubts.
Is honesty now lost to hope and fear
And calm debate to rising angry shouts?

It’s time to turn from pettiness and hate
And sow the seeds of care and friendship new
Let human frailty scorned with laughs and sneers
Reveal that which we all know to be true.

The fire is spreading and the water’s low
Soon their will be no way the flames to quell
That even now are licking at our doors
And threaten to turn heaven into hell.

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Friend in need

Oh me? I’m looking for a friend
Not for all time or till some end
But for a while, just someone who
Might listen and then tell me true
If thoughts I have are real or not
And if through time it’s been my lot
To forget how to bring a smile
Make someone feel again worthwhile
Release the tears of renewed hope
Provide the strength one needs to cope
The patience just to understand
No expectation or demand
But still it seems my flame burns low
Too weak to join in friendship’s glow
It’s cold here in these haunted halls
Waiting for one who never calls.

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