A Few Tips

Have fun, but at the
moment it has such a smelly bum
for under the ice is such
a sorry sight and it has to be
said we are in a plight
So give and live, don't be ugly
and want, take, or gossip
a quick quip is enough to still
anger
for we are in so much danger
and giving helps wage war on wanting
Leave the poor to their own devices
live your life with people who do
you good and the rest will follow
leaving their vices at the doorstep of
self damage. If you find you are
having a crisis talk to the right
person for devices to get out of your
crisis and healthily join the giving
who are really well, you know, living

Money?

I was thinking today,
when I went shopping
That, well, is money the root of
all evil
It is also the route of all evil,
As to make it we have to bend people mainly
by persuading them colourfully,
If you know what I mean to
mean what you want them to have.
After all we have to make a living
But so much of living means giving,
Amd after all you are not run by bossy in-laws.
There are just lonely singles
I don't know. But are we being
bent, while those misguided at the
Top are making the economy a living.
I wonder what Mother Nature thinks of
that
And business men do make inroads
where moneyless fanatics destroy
Perhaps it's just balanced and
society won't die because of the ills of
it's time. I'd prefer though to launder
My money and hang it on a line.

Fear

Oh what a fright
I had or am having in my
long day's night

I Wonder What Will Happen

Will the world end
Won't the world end
Where to send my thoughts
Happiness is achieved
Where acceptance increases
But where to send my thoughts
Perhaps amongst a grave
of metal
for animals, distraught, to
clear from the shelves of
human existence
afterwards.
Who knows where to go
Once hell dies and
life flies rapidly to a halt
of relaxation, basking in
the values imprinted on the
skies and in the hearts of the
good

Defending the Leaves

Leaves, gentle gentle leaves,
how I long to defend you
as you lend me your secrets
and inform my spirit about life,
hidden, secret alive and well,
And not yielding to the
keys of human existence

God

Power a tower
Each to his eternity
And of course to his
Or her fraternity

Genes

Beauty, where beauty isn't enough,
Success, grabbing at my voluminous
breast - I mean of course the one
that creates abundance, singing to
the refrain of night, disquieting reality,
in its fight to successd in artifical
life and creating genes we can all live with.

The World

How to ban ugliness out of the world,
Curl up on a rug in front of the fire,
and listen to advice,
And not wonder why one's beauty is
chosen to live,
In pain, an island in this srange
reality of mine

Sex

Sex and money,
I don't think it's very funny.

Emergency

No, the media can't summon a lethal pandemic however hard it tries and it seems war is no answer either as this would be self destruction as well, so it seems we'll have to try it with birth control. How about a concerted effort to promote it world wide by everyone over-populations being the worst environmental problem we have. And regarding all the other environmental problems I suggest we discontinue our petty pursuits immediately, even if it means we have to feed each other for nothing and confront the emergency situation we have in a unified and effectove fashion.

Define a Witch

Please define a witch
is it one who can switch reality?
heal, but how much profanity can she sustain?
That varies from witch to witch.
Personally, my bare instincts are realistic
But my mother prefers Christ
What does one do?
Just live life,
And try to be true,
To him, to her and to you.

The Thing with the Smelly Bum

The thing with a smelly bum
is around again,
spoiling my fun,
sense of adequacy and success.
What is it?
Is it God the sadist?
Well I'll make him glum
if I can,
But we'll see. It may be difficult.
Now,
I've lost my poetic thread instead.
Why aren't people
Made like trees,
consisting of beautiful leaves,
prepared to fall as the sun and night dictate.

I demand a professor a year,
That would deter the drear.
O dear, he's not dead. It's
only in my head,
And life becomes life again.

How strange I am,
But then others can be too, I suppose,
And I am interested in the esoteric after all,
As well as in everything else,
So I propose let the professors live instead.

Life

Life is a sod
On which I unfortunately trod
sixty-one years ago

The missing link - a poetry and art book

Hidden

gentle, gentle trees
casting leaves and shadows
to the sun
hiding from sight the blurs
of existence.
Leaves and shadows,
mingling with the swallows
and furrows of fields
yielding their keep

creativity

Children where have you gone?
Do I live for me now?
with myself for myself.
producing without a belly.
It's hard, and I wish you
were all here to cook for.
It's easier, it's lazier
those days of mothering magic
than now, later in life, knowing I'm me
and producing accordingly

Wounding

The unseen world

of the inner child

Wild, hurt, attacking

misunderstood, maltreated

by life

Rebounding, recoiling at every blow

Staring at other spawning adults

Watching helplessly as their

inner glow is instructed

where to go - anywhere

but here,

amongs the things

we need

What about Death

Death the last, or, first hurdle?

Opening towards transcendent floors

and gateways doors to phase

two

Ways, paths climbing mountains,

resting in valleys of new dimensions

When will Death come and I'll

know for sure

that I was here and am no more?

But how can I know I am no more,

If I cannot know I am no more

then I couldn't have been,

And that I've been my

children have seen.

Anyway I'm still here and

wish to stay, sending my Death day

on future' winding way

An Emerging Shadow

I was a shadow, bereft, envy lent

its lance too. My eyes grew dim from

loss and achieved little fame -

only that within four white-washed

walls.

Pictures come and pictures go and I

am no longer a shadow. My past is

gone, yet wounds me daily. Love

flickers here and there, but my

Dread remains, ensconced within

the hardness of the white-washed

walls. For they remain and tinge

my insanity.