Bradin, bless his 1,3 and 5 a.m. wakings
rolled onto his tummy for the first time,
freed his arm, and lay there....
Its hard to say something new
in a land
where cliches are a dime a dozen
I'm no longer moved by the news.
The protest chants of strident youth
the battle cries of long in tooth
expert pronouncements on environment and health
I have noticed, regardless of intent,
not much seems new
cleaning washing vacuuming the mind, changing the nappies of thought, smoking time away.
A tidy house is a tidy mind, fighting the forces of chaos in my domain is tiring. Order over time.
Put on a mixed lot of socks, yesterdays shirt until todays shower, burn wood. Chaos over order.
No thing never changes... maybe death... Lifes great multicoloured threads wend thier weft.
The last time we all got together
was a real yacophony
The hubble bub of insights
and our mellowing wisdom
The once proud lioness
who jumped through rings
and stood centrestage on the pedestal
Acch, and lo, all heathens say hello
Aye, and sacrements to those below
wither thou spendeth free or ensnare
Twas beed the devil visiting there.
Drifting on the calm waters
Of an easy wind.
Most of my robots are armed and armoured.
My next one should
Stand next to a half full trolley