you have sinister plans
for my pots and my pans,
and this kitchen is surely a mess.
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Bush and Blair sat in the Dunny,
they could milk from those IraquisBlair said ‘if we dress in Khakisthey will think we are their friends.’Bush who had been briefed by Walker,Texas Ranger and smooth talker,countered ‘but we like those guyswhen will they ever realisethat we will camp on foreign soilto guard all of the country’s oil.’The dunny was a doubledecker,left over from…
And on the beach today
Was flying in from just above the waves.And, when he saw me hebegan to shout.His voice was swelling with,what seemed like pride.Well, then I saw it:He was with fish,a big one, too.Was dragging down his wingssome as he flew.How strange how Mother Naturewould assume,that fish would want –before he goes for dinner,go for a ridelike…
I hope your hands
me to hold.And, if they area trifle sweaty,would you mindto overlookthis sign oframpant joy?I hope your eyeswill always be forme to love.And, if they sheda few shy tears,so would you mindI kissed them all away?I hope your earswill always be formy own words.And if they’re sparseat times or casualwould you mindme whisperingsweet nothings –all day…
I saw as well, a flying fox
and did you know a fox wears soxto keep the chill well off at dusk.Photovoltaic moleculesare carried high by glowing wormsand only Lucifer’s own foolsmeet infrared on shaky terms.A new year dawns, let fly my wishesand like a tree that grew withinsay welcome to the million fishesand bear the waiting with a grin.
He stood, oak walking stick
It was a view not for mere mortals,life was not stingy with rewards,such as this view from Obersalzberg.He’d baptised it Wolfsschanze,with which he had expressed the thoughtthat it would make a launching rampfor the great wolf, son of the old eagle.Today was graduation for ten officers,Sturmstaffel, also called SS,they’d demonstrate the ultimate of all:Life for…
What struck me were her eyes.
discharged itself,down at the dockswhere I had goneto look for(the name did fit) ,driftwood.And there,barefoot,in shallow puddles,the rising sun,just stood,as if befuddledabout the time.And dusk had comeon silent solesto takeits rightful place.It was the perfectand so timelymediumto obscurethose salty tears,that fell,without a sound,though hesitatinglyinto the sea.For one brief momentI had forgottenthe purpose ofmy being,as well…