With grace we’ll be around next year
Sipping Cali Majito
We’ll put on woven hats of straw
And do the Boston Tango.
We made our lives up very well
I’m happy as a mango
Your sparkly eyes are quite a prize
They’re just like Marlon Brando’s.
I never wanted very much
I thought I’d won the lotto
When you came by and took my eye
My heart it was besotto
And our romance is one long dance
Beacause we have this motto:
Leave me alone and I’ll come home
Coz I know what I’ve gotto!
Funny how years mute inadequacy,
While friends of faith hang by
despite carnage, laying careful stepping stones
across the molars of soul’s ineptitude.
Even at this late hour,
when the moon tips its liquid light on me, I howl,
Baring my wisdom, teeth rattling,
And your red rimmed eyes
turn wolfish and hunt me down.
How do I know where
you went away to that day?
But I imagine
a very thin line
between adjacent spaces –
We can almost touch.
Maybe we could walk
perpendicular pathways
and swap philosophies?
Our respective footsteps
on the dusty paths, a sign
We shared a little time.
Then, dressed in sparkles
perhaps you’ll up and choose to
smile and dance away?
We are all internationals
and students of time
We are all tiny earthlings:
This earth isn’t ‘mine’
We can all learn the lesson
from teachers of hate –
That their teaching is flawed
by the wars they create
We are all pawns of politics
and victims of words
But we’re big enough and bright enough
to know they’re absurd
We may live on an island
surrounded by sea
But we’re in this together
and do much better as ‘WE’.
As torn driftwood, salt and sunbleached,
battered and storm beached,
Thrown onto broken coasts by waves
colossal and angry: a political itch.
Running from little to nothing,
stumbling strathed by gulls, across damp sand
surveyed by thin-lipped authority,
wrapped in red tape and labelled.
Far away, harbour-bound big ships bob,
Plotting strategic co-ordinates
Stowing no thought for those
vested interests they launch and cast adrift.
aplaceforpoetry 