The annual avian ****
storm-troopers and
Luftwaffe have attacked
allied fortresses
of our smaller
fine
feathered friends --

    Chickadees
       Finches
            &
       Wrens --

and have taken
many of their strongholds
this spring here in the
Far North pillaging
needed and perhaps
unneeded sustenance
from our allies
storehouses leaving
nothing in their wake
but an avian version
of empty nest syndrome.

    These black-clad
     Heckle & Jeckle
    Grackle Gestapo
with their click click
       machine gun
   sputtering sounds

think we don't notice their
clever tricks as they
nonchalantly hop
downward from branch
to branch and shuffle
side-ways on our fence
whistling as they move
one way but their
manipulating gaze at
food supplies plans
another.

But our smaller brave
fine feathered friends
hold their ground to
fight the good fight of
faith propagating
their species as the
human species also
struggles with and
against the odds of
blind and partially
blind instinct.

I started school in nineteen hundred and typing error. But we were so poor growing up we had to share clothes, so I could only go to school every other day on account of being a twin. PE was a little embarrassing as I had a twin sister. It wasn't so much playing rugby in a netball skirt, no – my problem was trying to iron the pleats back in afterwards.

At 6 years old I was cast in my infant schools nativity play as 3rd reserve palm tree, in a play with no palm trees in it. When I complained to the teacher she told me to stop moaning and remember what jesus taught us.
“Can I be that?” I asked
“What?” she said
“You said jesus had a tortoise, can I be the tortoise?”

At 14 years old I was given a major role in my upper schools annual PTA play. We were doing Romeo and Juliet and I was cast as – the balcony. However on the night of the performance, unlike in rehearsals, the girl playing Juliet wore stiletto heels. So when she stepped onto the balcony (me) it yelped and rolled over. She went base over apex knocking over Romeo and landed spread-eagled on the floor that revealed her underwear to the whole audience. I am sure I speak for every parent, teacher and pupil in that hall when I say that I can never look at My Little Pony in the same way ever again. She never spoke to me again – like it was my fault!

(Oct 2020)

By Abpoetry


Better know it,
Better believe it,
Its really coming,
There is no running,

Roses bloom , no more,
And the fruits kept sacred,
Mason jars less broken,
Evils comes , you better scope it,

Pleasing other people,
will not get you anywhere,
protecting your energy,
Fake as extincting bears,

Proven the innocence,
Some work 12 jobs and ****,
Take time to find yourself,
To be the best and ****..

Late October,
and they have assuredly returned.

A canopy of clusters.

At second glance
the leaves on the trees are wings.

Whisper into the dreamscape
for they sense your voice.

Revive them with your breath.

Hold out your hand
like you hold out hope.

The warm sound of flutterings.

Circadian clocks in their antennae,
a sense of where they've been
and where they are going.

The gift from their Creator
moves them in the right direction.

Lawrence Hall
[email protected]
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                  Palm Sunday Processional and a Volkswagen

We’re along the four-lane, no village street
And so in the parking lot with our palms we meet
We begin our hymn at a Fiat, mama mia!
And step off from alongside my brother’s new Kia

I suppose we could sing, “O Cadillac, My Destiny”
While waving our fronds over a wingless Mercury
Watch your step; there’s a Honda Accord
Oh, look; I found a penny – praise the Lord!

We have only the four-lane, no village street
But at the church door we have Jesus to greet

Dancing for love like a flamingo,
But all I am is a collection of letting go...

Held by waves but lost in a tide,
Losing the memory of love—left behind...

Chasing it like crazy- up  and above,
Realising i am the love i was rooting for...

Humanity has been so much like a child
With too many rich, useful toys,
Playing with each one that's given,
And discarding it when something
Newer appears in its midst.

We have been dilettantes and amateurs
With some of our greatest notions
For human betterment.
We have been spoilt children:
We have been like tyrannical children;
Impatient and imperious, demanding
Proof when listening is required,
Tearing things down when they don't do
What we want them to do
(How much simpler to let things do only
What they can do)
Being uncreative about what seems dark
And terrifying; preferring
Only what seems easy
And effortless;
Questioning the numbers
Of a philosophy's
Followers rather than examining
The fruitfulness of its ideas;
Wandering down blind alleys of populism
That lead to concentration camps;
Refusing to admit our vast crimes and mistakes
Denying the horrors of the slave trade
Minimising the reality of the gas chambers
Tearing our hair out in futile attempts
At reconciling civilization with genocide,
When civilization (as we have come to accept it)
Never did mean the true universal goodness
Of heart,  but rather meant the self-mythology
Of a people, a race.
No, neither the good in us, nor
Our capacity for evil are exhausted.
Time will show just how young
We are in our abilities,
Of genius for good and evil.
For all these strains, unexamined,
And unredeemed,
Will find their higher fruition
In the unlit centuries to come.

by Ben Okri from Mental Fight An Anthem for the Twenty-First Century

"Whatever we convey to you,
You think we're lying,
Better get real familiar cause loose ends are tying,
They love politics and the underlying,
You understand the half without innersighting,
Better get acquainted with the chakra finding,
Lacking discipline, cut out all that trauma dumping,
They tried to block the energy , there is no stopping,
Collecting all the data that they store like shopping"....

(full poem in link below)