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Champagne


The eagle has its purpose up in the stratosphere
For solitude, reflection, circumspection;
The clouds are for dreams
Or for propagation,
There are things unseen,
Prometheus’ remains

There am I
I am
As you are,
As you took me there

Fearing that my descent back down to this earthly self
Would break my airs, distort life’s many graces
You remind me of the obvious,
We are not mere bubbles
From old grapes
We’ve more delicious saviour
In sweet tears
Than age old occupational fears

Your voice joins chorus with mankind
I thought I’d lost you to maddening noise
I thought noise existed
Then I heard it all as life’s symphony
Another aspect of your wisdom

Then peace whispers love
Upon the breeze,
The moon is full, the tides emancipated
We are one again,
Until you send me back to new heights
There again I’ll journey,
Until then is now.

Musings Out A Diner Window

Rain swept the pavement quite clean whilst I sat inside the diner sipping at an overly sweet hit of caffeine.
Remarkable just to watch what a current of water might pick up in its swift motion downhill.
It’s all litter of course, but of course the tinsel of litter was once what made that litter appealing.
It’s appealing to me now, and no money has even changed hands.
Like ships with hidden commanders flowing off to battle some menace, right at the heart of the earth – for where else does running water end?
Each ship holds a thousand war torn hero’s, each commander revered for his unequalled valour.
Glitter ships sailing over the undercurrent, high seas, blistering winds, perhaps to their end.
The battleship destroyer Coke-cola, a rock of steadfast reliability, gloating it’s magnificence as it is flanked by its minions.
A polystyrene submarine, a Twinkies U-boat, all carrying off loved ones to fight the hidden menace.
They flow towards the prevailing centre, where all will eventually fall to, and clash, or else succumb; yet these ships of war make it look so simple in their heroism, without doubts, without fear.
Huge monsters stamp their feet cautiously around the pathways of these warriors, oblivious to the nature of things.
Huge monsters clad in grey, hidden, camouflaged, against the offset walls of reality.
Those walls silent witness, as am I.
Huge monsters cursing the chaos caused by this downpour, striking bland canvas into the air in an attempt to retain their dryness, slaves to their vanity; as the warriors are chained inextricably to it too.
Rain gives the outside world something so much more exciting, a frenetic energy, there is a freshness not found on a dry dull day.
It is like the inside sneaking outside, and the out in.
Mellowed am I to sit inside, by a furnace and an oily grill, afloat amidst the murmurs of the saintly din.
There outside its all happening, the moist the humid the hue; dim drear and warlike, as always it has been.
Those warships never knew a difference; this day is every other day, warlike circumstances, forever in the fray.
Hail to those sturdy battlers, hats off to their crew; who’ve lived a life of purpose, that few else might of.
The Coke cans at the mouth to hell now, perhaps it even falters at the brink; a moment’s hesitation before it falls down the sink.
Imagine now, if you might, its potential underground; its speed must move more steadily, as it goes down down down.
As its pace gathers, its purpose clarified with speed; the darkness that must envelope it, a mere trifle to the deed.
For war is fast approaching, the honour parade well gone; our Coke can never once diverting to its centre grave.
The howling from above, the squeals from down below; naught might intimidate this fearsome fighting fellow.
Yet from my eyes, these warships have passed long from sight; still I remain a witness to their shining light.
You may well think such valour, such courage, such heroics, might rock the foundations; make us all take one long breath.
But relatively speaking, the street is much the same, those massive monsters beating silly refrain.
And my coffee has no more sips, and I weary at the task, of thundering past the gutters, in a rush to the car.


**Just a note, this is a piece from a few years ago but I was reminded of it by a friend the other day and thought I'd share.
Cheers,
Jim or James.