Month: November 2021

An emptiness comes,
filling the space with nothing,
and removing hope.

The winter’s coming,
with its cold like a wet fish,
slapped across your face.

The fire’s burning low
and the embers flicker high
but the warmth lingers.

I am stating put,
keeping my head, and focused,
on this present now.

Well it’s soon Monday,
and Sunday’s slipping away,
into the evening.

The weekend is gone,
and the sun does and has shone,
in a winters sky.

It is feeling cold,
the wind bites like a nipper,
and laughs at your pain.

Already I tire,
and feel like sleeping again,
though it’s still evening.

Buckle up I say,
make Monday a better day,
and grab it’s balls hard.

The shopping is done,
and that’s not a lot of fun,
but the bags did hold.

The sun shines brightly,
casting clouds like silver clothes,
across cold blue skies.

The second of time,
that’s lost for eternity,
can’t ever be found.

Profound gets so deep,
and words like that takes you down,
deep underground.

The drums are beating,
in the night like they’re calling,
people to come eat.

The weather has changed,
it feels more like winter now,
with the wind that bites.

The trees drop their leaves,
and the pathway’s slippery.
best be careful now.

The fire works did work,
and impressive for at time,
burning our money.

The moon looked naked,
in the morning sunshine light,
that caught its dark side.

Somewhere it’s calling,
the rhythms and the music,
it’s hard to ignore.

I like the jazz notes,
the grace and incidental ones,
that do catch my ear.

Try the flattened fifth,
of the dominant seventh,
to transition keys.

For the E seven,
try the G minor sixth chord,
to the B minor.

It’s getter harder,
to wake up in the morning,
and just get going.

The journeys feel hard,
the bus, the train and the tube,
and then back again.

The work’s getting done,
and that can also be fun,
with the right people.

I’m scratching an itch,
to do something different,
and change what I do.

I’m on the look out,
for old coins and things like that,
something to collect.

I don’t collect stamps,
never have and never will,
just a big fiddle.

Those things come and go,
though I do have some to show,
that are on the wall.

I’m saving pennies,
all the new ones and old ones,
and whatever else.

Could it be finer,
than a steak in a diner,
and good company.

It’s burger and fries,
and I am telling no lies,
when I’m on the road.

A little ice cream,
will remind me of a dream,
that tasted so good.

A small bag of crisps.
crinkle cut and so tasty,
but go too quickly.