Now Different

He once wondered if there was a rep

Who actually wore different coloured footwear?

He wondered this for years a stupid thought

And then there he was a rep in different shoes!

The rep appeared to be a narcissist by image

With one arm fully tattooed and tied back hair

An air of importance surrounded him

He wasn't a manager or boss just a rep

Not necessarily bad or arrogant he was just

Full of self-importance and something else

None of that mattered right now to Brian

What did were the different coloured pumps

One was bright yellow the other was red

Both were the same type of trainers

Not the same pair but the same make

He'd obviously swapped them around

It was the second time he saw him

And each time the rep had worn opposites

He had a quirky thing for opposite shoes

He decided he would write this poem

To remember just another rep now different

Tea Biscuits
The call centre rep turned the gal's life upside down
She was state apparatus gal married to a serving cop
The rep was a historical Soviet communist
He called the gal to see how she was his calls were ignored
It came out she fled to her relative away from the city
6 months pregnant by the red rep plus 3 kids with the cop
His calls and texts went thru to the cop did he know who was calling?
The rep the cop threatened to shoot dead for grinding his ex
Now with a lizard in her big fat belly a baby red ****** nipper
How this would enrage the cop who wants to get even and more
How will this all end best friends’ tea and biscuits?
The state apparatus gal with a lizard by a communist agent

I loved you
but could never
see [past]
just how I’d fit
into your life

For me, it's very strange to see familiar people who don't recognize me. I feel like I am in a different dimension where my personality has never existed, and the people there used to know someone who looked like me. When I asked them, "Do you recognize me?" they replied, "Well, your face looks familiar."

the lovely picture window (always the same, always different)

There are painters who must,
having found the place, must,
repaint it, compelled to repeat it,
each a variant, yet always the same,
always different

I awake to a perspective that is wide,
always differentiated from the prior,
always almost similar, but never with
the same exactitude, differing attitude,
same longitude, identical latitude,
always different

horizon distanced, in all ways a view
encompassing, duality near, far distant,
harmoniously, eyes open, magnetized
to wake before 6am by the suns modesty,
first light, first clarity, a curtain risen, yet,
always different

am I so blessed or thus cursed, for the urge
to disclaim and ode, compose and thus self-
decompose, analyze, reflect, slice apart, needing
the comprehensive understanding this me/place
scripts the raw appreciation, daily differentiated
always the same

this peaceful venue seizures, chest calmly
pounding at the insistence it commands,
the price I must pay for the prize to praise,
to sing, weep, reward restful sleep with lyrics
eked out, pouring, unsustainable yet finished,
always different

a single May Iris, returns, born from a torrential,
thunder, lightning, sky mayhem, rises by a sundial
greets midst a planted clump, upright rises, lavender,
in a majestic solitary, absent but a day prior, yet mine eyes
failed to witness its discernible emerging birthing creation,
always different,
always the same

here, I am Iris too, always the same, a day aged,
but the differences minute but stolid actualized,
this overnight sensation, my body’s restoration,
what I visualize, indivisible, now visible, realized,
miracle of continuity, unchanging chained change,
always different ,
always the same

wonder, am I more blessed, or a s~lightly cursed being,
my breath restored, wet eyes full brimming, changed,
revived but always modified, a newer old man, whose
sum total always a different number, but in sequential,
compelled to confess, no understanding of this miracle,
always the same,
always different,
this daily visionary miracle


6:36 AM
Fri May 24
2024

Silver Beach,
Shelter Island

Sometimes, I wish that I were different
I am not talking about weight, height, or physically
I wish I were the old me
The nice me
The one who didn't expect ulterior motives
Expect to be hurt
The one who was afraid to say no
Or come off as mean
Sometimes, I think I'm still in there
Deep down
Underneath the fake cloak of harshness wrapped around me
Used as a shield
Protecting me from the world
Still protecting the old me