I KNOW

I know, I know just what you cannot tell

I know and understand so well

But yet your silent voice is heard

For I know and understand

 

There are words I long to hear

Words I have hoped to hear for many a year

But I know that you feel constrained

And because of this your heart is pained

I know and understand

 

But if you would make my heart rejoice

You have no need to use your voice

For if it’s true what I believe

And if my eyes do not deceive

Simply look into my eyes and hold my hand

And I will know and understand

 

Ron Martin

Reassurance

 

All was very quite as I sat alone

It was if I was surrounded by light

I felt at ease and all was calm 

On a journey I was taken that night 

A gentle voice said do not be afraid

Please take hold of my hand

I want to take you on a journey

To a peaceful and pleasant land 

My companion was a spirit guide

Who explain his world to me?

He was taking me on an adventure

For me alone to see 

He wanted to elevate my fears

That death is not the end

It’s the beginning of a new experience

This message to all I send

First and foremost you all are spirit

For the material is but brief

For as we leave the material world

Our spirit within is released 

You are then reunited with your loved ones

Who have all past before?

You then will be reunited

As you pass through the spiritual door 

Malcolm Bradshaw

 

 

The Butter Factory

 

It was built of things that must not mix:

paint, cream, and water, fire and dusty oil.
You heard the water dreaming in its large
kneed pipes, up from the weir. And the cordwood
our fathers cut for the furnace stood in walls
like the sleeper-stacks of a continental railway.

The cream arrived in lorried tides; its procession
crossed a platform of workers' stagecraft: Come here
Friday-Legs! Or I'll feel your hernia--
Overalled in milk's colour, men moved the heart of milk,
separated into thousands, along a roller track--Trucks?
That one of mine, son, it pulls like a sixteen-year-old--
to the tester who broached the can lids, causing fat tears,
who tasted, dipped and did his thin stoppered chemistry
on our labour, as the empties chattered downstage and fumed.

Under the high roof, black-crusted and stainless steels
were walled apart: black romped with leather belts
but paddlewheels sailed the silvery vats where muscles
of the one deep cream were exercised to a bullion
to be blocked in paper. And between waves of delivery
the men trod on water, hosing the rainbows of a shift.

It was damp April even at Christmas round every
margin of the factory. Also it opened the mouth
to see tackles on glibbed gravel, and the mossed char louvres
of the ice-plant's timber tower streaming with
heavy rain all day, above the droughty paddocks
of the totem cows round whom our lives were dancing.


Written by: Les Murray

the dotted line..

words unspoken
feelings hidden away
the breathing.. slow, desperatea song unsung
music lilting and soft
the embrace…melting, tighttread on the dotted line
live on the edge, dangerously
celebrate the momentbreak all barriers
breathe, smile, sing, dance
let the dots never join….

 

Lakshmi Kaul

Falling

I am lost, I am falling, I am now living in a world with no sleep; The night has become an ocean and I am drowning in the deep

..

The moon has become my sun,  The stars bring light to my sky; Staring at a ceiling unable to sleep, no matter how hard I try

..

I am living in a silent world full of artificial light; Words fall from this pen, as pages are filled with these darks verses that I write

..

My eye lids are feeling heavy now, But are my eyes already closed? Or is this just a longer blink; My mattress is turning into quicksand, As I slowly begin to sink

..

Soft whispers start to tumble and fall down,  I wonder am I asleep or am I still awake; Maybe this is all a daydream, and I am laying here just waiting for yet another dawn to break

..

As I fall deeper I feel my body lifting up high, as soft voices whisper they have heard me calling; But just as the sun begins to rise I wake up screaming as I feel my body falling.

 ..

BARRY MOWLES ©2012

Retirement Rendezvous

Retirement rendezvous
There is a member who is new
Who requires some type of rescue! 
Looking back at life’s preview

He has had his kids
Been wise and stupid
Smoked enough weed
Aging exhibits on both eyelids

Retirement rendezvous
No more young dreams to pursue

A time he was young with hope
Goals matured and developed
But time took away that potential scope

Retirement rendezvous
Old age has at last struck for true

Retirement rendezvous
Today he joins the old pensioners’ crew

Stuck in his fresh basement
He scorns retirement at its commencement 
With continuous utter resentment 
Thinking it is a washed up experiment

Retirement rendezvous
Today, old age seems to be of no value

Retirement rendezvous
A new life and a new official venue

Retirement rendezvous
Some meet at the post office queue
Others meet at the bookies avenue
Leaving only when the night is due

The alarm clock has ceased ringing
The ladies have stopped singing
The bread winner is no longer bringing
To him nothing anymore is inspiring! 

Retirement rendezvous
Why is life such a screw? 

Retirement rendezvous
Is this a new life for true? 

Retirement rendezvous
His thoughts he has to subdue
For him life still continues
Forthwith he looks at life with a new view! 

(2007) 

Sylvia Chidi

Tell Me!

Why some people do not ponder
Before acting or uttering words of wonder?
Is it out of denseness or narrowness?
Or maybe due to immaturity or impulsiveness?
Or just to vex or show rudeness?
Are they aware of the repercussions
Of their irresponsible actions
and verbal aggression?
Shall we resort to avoidance
Or wear a costume of patience?

© Chaouki Mkaddem