Things Poetic

 The Greatest Sport Neither round ball, nor tennis ball nor red or white ball cricket Not even the kings sport, equine giants charging for a fence, sweat streaming behind its the emotional, exhausting, invigorating and painful oval ball game Rugby Union, not league albeit league drags the blood from lungs far quicker car crashes of bulk hitting each other serious assaults for 80 minutes blood, sweat, tears ... and tears through flesh laughter at the end, amongst the cheering and happiness drinking together laughing with each other brutal but gentlemen and women

 Old Older  Is that wiser, peeling off the layers of idiocy from the years finding that owl, learned and far thinking ? Considering meaning in the confused meanderings of the mind wondering If only, maybe, surely that... Instead Its the peeling off the layers of understanding and intelligence losing the owl and finding the pigeon, meandering in rush hour traffic pecking the dust near the table Always looking down and missing the sparrow hawk  eyes set on your form considering little, understanding less, forgetting all Oldest

 Dreams In my dream...Im a good father In my dream....Im a useful part of society In my dream.....my art is good In my dream....it's a world where the ignorant and mosogynistic are not feted, where rapists are not allowed to direct but are separated from society In my dream....I don't put flowers down every few weeks In my dream....

 Its Enough When you've given everything, when you've held nothing back in reserve when your soul is naked and bare when your hidden depths are open  when there is nothing hidden Then you've reached the world of enough That place where acceptance sits, where your aim is to be present not just there

 Reality I read this poem in a book about Love called "The Universe of Us" by Lang Leav "When did you stop caring?" he asked "When did you start noticing?" she replied So true and echoes completely for me

 With determined eyes Furrowed brow Typewriter/ pen/ pencil/ keyboard ready Let the creative juices flow……. “Lunch time darling” you say “How’s the writing going” you ask Staring at the page with its additions Additional  “The “  I’ts going really well” “No you can’t read it yet”  Let’s dream of the afternoon  And hope