the rain falls

a dropping constant in today’s bleak rush for tomorrows motional ideas and rewards, grasped at for the sake of change regardless. As home coughs its overused phlegm up from way deep back in time. As the race to use every last atom of life rushes ever onwards, screeching past all who ever thought they wanted it and past the next, tirelessly marking second-hand starts or bristling with excitement for the latest ‘greatest’ which often proves merely more complicated and intensive than those passed. Whilst every hour, by weight, more rain falls.

So where do all the puddles flow? Not steamed away by a sun too well concealed out in space by vast gatherings of carbon clouds, blotting all but the invisible rays of dancing ultra violets from brightening up our mornings. Deprived of heat waters fail to boil, they inch up round our lives – flooding street and town, home and farm, plants and pumps. Icily imbibing our land saturated in chemicals and yesterdays dead, stirring up the mud like so many should have done so long ago. And every hour, by weight, more rain falls.

What can we do now, but watch and wait? Listening to the stories and rhetoric of unlucky leaders flailing in time, as changes rush by them in plastic and radio waves too fast for too few to notice, far less appraise or employ. Living in the echo of our shared histories – bent only on eschewing blame – even as dark fault-lines creak and fissure under their own weight, in greed… Whilst every hour, by weight, more rain falls.

  • edited (improved?) and reposted from August 2015. Here’s a morose reflection on how things are for a Tuesday evening…
Rainfall in Venice

Rainfall

Key words

I keep forgetting to keep doing this… but often remember the words…

bujonswords

Relax!
Kick back,
take stock,
unwind.
Accept where you’re at:
ease the fret
from your mind.
Take an open account
of your life
and of those
who make colour and add
to the light of our kind.

Be free
in your head.
Be steady
be true –
as open to change
as the clouds are to blue.
Stay focused,
directed,
keep rhythmic
and new.
During spiralling lies
sincerely be you.

View original post

Down the long way

Slow delight,
accompanies the blissful trite –
expressionless bile –
as is presented.

Along the way
the slag of a light known as day
(though it’s furthest away
from his mind)
is spent
lazily, calling for soulless penitence
from a murkier past:
Not uncommon.

The municipal pit
where all thoughts and feelings enter
is full, brimming
with nameless creations!
No claimers and nobody looks for,
or asks for, their namers –
remaining silent
till they’re called from the nights.

Corporate Thunder

My name is Corporate Thunder
And I come for your vote
Or I’ll twist-free out your eyeballs
Do not touch your remote

My name is Corporate Thunder
And I see you’re remote
So I’ve come to blind your eyeballs
As I corrupt your vote

I see the Corporate Thunder come
Hide fast – save your vote
Don’t look straight at their eyeballs
Their corruption’s no joke

Please countrymen and patrons
I say lend me your ear
Only the poor or different
Have reason to fear

The wholesome mob among you
You who see that I’m true
Are set for thunders plenty
Doing what you love to do

Shooting stars

but it’s not their fault!
Animated droids
steeling the screen
with silver-tongued tales
rattle at minds…
To furnish the soul?

A hundred times and more a day
A thousand radio waves
are beamed
To a million open eyes
Each simply charmed by charming ways!

David says all information
is great for building a common nation.
So he’s pleased to see this fairy notion,
is backed by newsreel allegations:
That ministers’ – leading the restoration –
weigh heavy in fear
of mass publication!

So gleefully mass ignorance
is fed and bloated by conglomerates
Sealed with affection
by celebrity
and cooked – till black
then hid away!

On the streets,
on these sleepy streets
Chat is rife with the tales they tell
our TV’s, monitors, papers are full
of well written tales –
They tell them so well.

Polisylum

Standby…
Standby.
Standby you!
Can’t get enough of that magic you do!
Stocks are broke
Oil’s all down the drain
you too get the feeling you’re here once again?
Standby – hold tight –
We’ll shoot when it’s time
wait for the clamour of bangs on the line.

Here’s the latest
broken news
We’ve forgiven Iran
The Soviets too.
Out of their madness and out of their heads
Our greatest have failed
to lead us to death.

Standby anxious
You’re not due yet
There’s time to drop bombs
Our gods hedging his bets
Stately you wait on
The pride of good taste
Please be in no hurry
to rush with the race.

To Each Their Own

Everybody’s different baby
And they’re not ALL after you
You can appreciate others pathways
Don’t waste thought
on what they think of you.

Chill out, like a cucumber,
Live like it’s all about you
Kerb the melancholy that pokes your days,
don’t let your sad juice bleach all blue

Where does all this ire rise from
Who made your life so dire
Perhaps you need awakening
Something to re-fire those hearts desire