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Auracle on In memoriam...
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Lady on a Tram

one evening almost Christmas

ten-o'clock cold and windy

from city centre to suburbs

crowded tram close and steamy

floods of patrons from the theatres,

concerts, cinemas, restaurants, shopping malls

a buzz of chat about performances

food and wine, purchases and prices

 

I had to stand, anchoring myself on a bum pad.

At the next stop a black lady boarded

lugging ...

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I think that children ...

I think that children

who must discern cause and effect

within the structure of daily activity

especially at home -

whose young minds must hone survival skills

to sustain dignity intact -

often become poets

possessing practised powers

of acute observation

and able to sort details relative to the whole

with calculating minds

geared to steer perception to a des...

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The Boy Who Conquered Fractions

They came to me, the children

dragging chains of failure at school

scowling with attitude

inured to criticism, teasing, even anger

and yet eager.

This boy was nine.


One day he gave me a note from his teacher.

who complained in cramped script that

'this child's continued inattention to lessons

and general disruptive behaviour in the classroom

are unacceptable: 'Som...

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Never trust a lover who ...

Never trust a lover who in the throes of passion

calls you 'Baby' or 'Babe' -

that generic name for a sex partner

whose body is equally generic.

 

It means in an unguarded moment 

the name of someone else entirely

might slip out with an orgasmic yelp

which definitely would not be cool

a real mood buster.

 

In fairness such caution

does mark a certain level of...

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Poets

Poets are passionate to pierce the superficial.

They don't 'try' to be like this: they are driven.

 

Poets know experience is universal.

From their hearts, their souls even

comes an instinctive need to share insight

with anyone who will follow their thoughts

on the magic spin of their chosen words.

There is probably no greater egoism anywhere

(except – maybe - in mathema...

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Bumble Bee

The summer she was six

playing with her best friend

chasing things in the garden

she caught a bumble bee in a hollyhock flower -

a huge pink blossom furry with pollen

and this busy bee

wallowing deep in its throat.

 

She caught the bee with the hollyhock flower

folding the petals over its frantic buzzing

its writhing body -

a bold, successful capture.

How cleve...

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Magpies

A glass of pre-dinner wine cold and dry 

stove-top bubbling and sizzling.

I glance out my open window and see

fifteen magpies on the roofline behind the garden.

No – eighteen! And more.

That's a FLOCK of these quarrelsome birds!

I watch pairs often enough strutting about

mutually aloof

pecking at patches of moss, up-turning stones.

It's been an average month - lots of  ...

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Families

those day-in day-out people

with whom

we share our daily bread

to whom

we trust our sleeping hours

from whom

we seek support

believing their words and motives

 

a group of persons

in a pod of inter-dependence

personal value measured

in relation to the unit

employing social arts

deploying survival skills

not much different

from a basic animal pack

...

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My Father's Pipe (following Ian's blog)

In the cool mornings I wear Dad's old dressing gown.

Even now I think I can smell the pungency of his pipe tobacco

in its fine Scottish wool, but that's not likely.

After he died Mum washed the curtains, the walls and even the carpet.

 

In their closing years Mum and Dad had separate bedrooms.

Dad at last smoked privately: the fumes bothered my mum so much.

This was a major c...

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Families

 

those day-in day-out people

with whom

we share our daily bread

to whom

we trust our sleeping hours

from whom

we seek support

believing their words and motives

 

a group of persons

in a pod of inter-dependence

personal value measured

in relation to the unit

employing social arts

deploying survival skills

not much different

from a basic animal p...

Read and leave comments (4)

thinking -just thinking

Privacy was never promised ...

Have you ever had a pressing need to poo

privately - politely - any hole will do?

At last – reprieve! - but the door won't latch

and it swings back and forth back and forth

until you must ignore it to get on with business?

 

Just as you drop your drawers with sycophant relief

someone sits beside you upon a velvet cushion

like those in a gaudy theatre and starts to make sm...

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Do not dismiss Mythology

Do not dismiss Mythology

from any rooted source.

 

In ancient Greece

(as the story grew apace)

the mighty god Zeus

upon the maiden Mnemosyne

sired nine girls

who became great goddesses -

the famed Nine Muses of Poetry :

Love

Music, Song, Dance

Comedy, Tragedy

Heroes, History

and Astronomy.

 

The early Greeks well knew that

Energy coupled with Mem...

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The 'LOVE' Month

Love is Tolerance

Forget Romance 

Roses and Rum.

Forget sympathetic Sex.

LOVE IS TOLERANCE!

 

 

WOL, SALE, February, 2016,

Challenge:  5-minutes - 14 words ; Subject: LOVE

 

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Wind from my Window

As I draw together the curtains

on a winter afternoon

the street is gently breezy -

Disney-waltzy in 3D colour.

Over the rooftops

naked branches cast nets upon electric blue

where birds in flight ride Russian violins

in ecstatic sweeps of long slow motion.

Twigs from the giant willow

almost finger my window pane -

the tapping tambourines

of my silent orchestra ...

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Man and Dogs

The elderly gentleman approached

with measured steps and conscious carriage

precisely in pace with two golden retrievers

old dogs on slack leads

well-fed sleekly groomed

resigned to their constitutional hour.

They raised their heads at my approach

and one even lifted a hopeful tail.

I stopped. I love dogs.

'May I touch them?' I asked.

'Certainly,' replied the gentlem...

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