Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Jackie and the paintbrush....

Poor little Jackie; as his mum would call her first born,
Wasn't the sharpest or the one with a fancy crown.
He liked his roast beef and a mug o' barley,
Didn't have too many friends but he did love his dog, Barney.

Most saw through him , others looked down at him;
It never was his criteria; all he wanted was that rainbow full to the brim.
An orchestra played within, the wind the strings the entire gamut.
He danced and he hummed and he swayed to the gentle beats of the still night.

The veins throb for attention, the pupils dilate for love,
Important they were not; for Jack was a simple child and a simpler soul.
Fishing came, lunches went; watching puddles while cycle rides passed by.
Jack loved his life and all the little things that made it fly.

Along came a day when lepers took to their holes and fishes to the bait;
Oblivious was he, for he had a rhyme; a rhyme of great splendour and taste.
Dreaming of an unknown beginning and fearing the knowing end..
He took a left when he should have maybe taken a right only to come across a bend.

Here he found ecstacy that showed him what color was all about,
but as is so often the case, the good withers away and the great dies in an instant.
Here he was on his bed; a bone without a dog, a thorn without a rose...
Happy endings they say are interims to unfinished stories....

P.S. I'm glad Lil Jackie found what he had to find even if it brought despair to some extent later on, I just hope we all do as well before we sip nectar atop little marshmallow puffs.... :)

Also, I'm sorry if this dragged on... couldn't help it... :P


Sunday, September 9, 2007

Rodeo Clown

There really is no intro and not wanting to ramble on as I'm so guilty of, so very often. Its just a little story that took birth on a cold lonely bus-ride...So here goes...

The poet, he looked around;
a little wary a little too profound.
The clouds were gathering but the birds still sang;
The lake glistened beyond the hills and a pint he drank..

Many a hour-glass back, there was this bird...
A bird of beaut and flames of wonder;
I remember the way it soared and I pondered...
How did it matter where it was going; or coming for that matter.

As i grow the lesser i know,
Will you set my dreams free or follow them down the hole..
a hundred mothers and a million muses
thats just me dreaming impossible dreams...

A rodeo clown is I; with my very own Secret garden..
God smiled in an apparition and there stood a flower, lingering..
twisting and swaying like a nimble daisy in a blust.
Ha Ha that can't be true; its just me going bust...

Who sowed those seeds; those that harvest in my soul..
Was it you ma? or was it ziggy G maybe it was there for her to cajole;
Hold me close and remind me how it was to love,
how it was to trust and a smile so true...

Time has passed and things have changed, though some stay the same..
He knew it was his call, his very own and none to share or blame..
The sun took a peek and down came the silence...
Slip sliding away; he beckoned for sunshine,

He finally had what he sought, maybe forever maybe for a wee bitty...
It was his and nothing could take it away, not even he...