SEE YOU LATER…?
There are those who faithfully check-out my latest posts of – poetry or paintings – Thanks.
It’s right to let you know – I’m taking a Post ‘Sabbatical’.
I think twelve posts at a time – are displayed on the page.
So when you click seedsinmotiontruthnart.wordpress.com
– that’s what you get.
At the bottom of the twelve posts you will see ‘older posts’ at the red button – if you would like to further explore past work.
Should I resume after the Sabbatical – I guess some will have rode into the sunset for good and the delay will send you to greener pastures, not to return. (That’s just how it goes…)
I queried one time if all our followers really are informed about our latest posts as claimed by wordpress – but no one could answer.
Meantime take care.
As my wife would say:
WORDS STRUNG TOGETHER
A poem-a-day keeps the cobwebs away
Try to remove the ‘corn’ from this production
Slice it in two and bring the two parts together:
a poem of cobwebs keeps the day away
and in a-way a cobweb of poems keeps the day
You have been granted leave to
move on now
As we take our collaged slices
to a new level
cutting it at every letter and
ransom-noting a message to
hide below the rock
It is now rock-based and steady as a rock
the letters lie in wait/weight to re-form
in a new formation
like fighter planes
arrayed across either side of the runway
Letters that say nothing until word-formed
and sentence-induced to rise into the ether
Hidden words contained in the letters
Volatile mixtures of joined-up-writing
blossoming like flowers into expressive
sights and sounds
This is the life of language up close and accessible
or far removed, distant and inaccessible to the ‘common man’
What will you have? Words for words sake?
Articulating themselves to form no meaning
or do you choose ‘simple’ – simple as:
Simple Simon who met a pie man going to the fair?
Enough now of lowbrow or high
We started with corn and finish with bread:
For example – maybe?
Go see-hear what Shakespeare said?
HERE THEY SIT
Here they sit on the griddle
Here they stand on the launchpad
Some dribbled out
Others asserting themselves
But there they are
No two the same – multiple layers
At capturing a thought
Moment or emotion
Resident on the digital desktop
Before they journey on
And typed with the same fingers
that once used a pen
Deliberated over to some degree
Changed and re-hashed – rarely
But here they are – ready to fly
Ready to intrude into your life
or reluctantly read
They will be around
‘til time ceases
Thoughts from a mind
In language form
You will take and inwardly digest
or quickly dismiss
It’s a funny ol’ world
When it comes to
tastes and preferences
for certain types of
WRITING A SONG
A couple of times
He couldn’t make it rhyme
So he boogied the riff
And paused – to flick his quiff
He couldn’t make it work
So considered himself ‘a jerk’
‘Call yourself a musician?’
He mused – in recognition
Of his bad hair day
And his condition – of dismay
He thought: ‘I will try later’
Sliding from his chair like an alligator
No sooner away from the deck
and the thoughts came flooding back
Try it this way – try it that
‘C’mon man – is this all you’ve got?’
Suddenly it came to mind
As he set himself to unwind:
‘I will write the song as though
I can never have another go’
And rising to his own challenge
He at last found he could manage
A song – simple but true
It came out ‘riffy’ and blue
He smiled and marvelled at
The difference the heart’s new format
– Could make – when it came to lyrics of poetry or prose
Now – written without difficulty – I suppose?