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Archive for the ‘Musing’ Category

Butterfly Tattoo

Butterfly etched in the small of her back
Resting on her hide in the sisterhood of ink
A physical stamp of the human soul
A portal releasing the essence of a spirit
Free to blossom and draw in the energies of life
A talisman of power and freedom
Creating and harvesting new life

Pencil drawing of butterfly

Pencil drawing of butterfly (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Spelling

Despite the odd glitch with autocorrect, I’m a bit of a stickler for correct spelling, but having come across the following sign the other day which in all fairness, in spite of the interesting spelling, remained perfectly understandable, I started to wonder if good spelling is actually as important as we make out it is in the broader sense.

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My question regarding spelling
Is whether it’s important at all
For when all’s said and all is done
Do we fail to recall
Words from our massive lexicon
When letters mix a bit
Because as text and shortening show
We seem to make them fit
Into some rhyme and reason
That then makes perfect sense
So is spelling important
Or do we sit on the fence
And neither condemn or criticise
More so ensure that we
Reach out to one another
Communicatively?

So tell – what is your verdict
Putting aside a while
The rules and regulations
And rigid rank and file
Where spelling is important
Non-negotiable let’s say
With words spelt from the dictionary
Just perfect in every way
With letters all in order
Lined up in standard form
Is this of prime importance
Or can we tip the norm
And mash them just a little
Into a jumbled mess
So long as folk communicate
Less orthographic stress!

Normality – A Rambling

What is normality
But an illusion
Shared by many
Yet not by all
A manipulation
Of reality
Of A reality
Scattered amongst equals
With significance
Accepted
Not questioned
Except by
One

But then isn’t it that one
That makes normal possible
Like a line of straightness
Where the line
Only seems straight
Only survives
As a result of the kink
A curve
Where without that bend
There would be
No straight
Nothing more

And so too without abnormality
Without that ‘one ‘
Can there be normal?
Without delusion
Can reality prevail?
Without the mask
What really is there
The possibilities
Swimming in a sea
An ocean
Of possibilities
On the spectrums of odd
Weighed in the scales of reason

Lives being lived
Unfolding in the rainbow
The wavelengths of colour
Each as precious as the next
Refracted through a prism
To bend light
Curving whiteness
To bring brilliance
All realities warped
In hues; in shades
Of colour
For maybe everything is normal
Or maybe normality just doesn’t exist

Waiting Room

Scent of disinfectant
Sitting in a queue
Waiting to be seen
Will they ever say it’s you

Sat in bored submission
As hours and hours roll by
Others seem to come and go
But you? You might just die
While sitting, waiting, waiting
With bustle all about
Yet sadly we conclude that they’ll
Never shout your name out.

And as the lights dim quickly
The noise ceases; abates
And you remain still waiting
For sure it’s oh so late
As nurses disappear and
You realise none will see
You now or maybe never
Left there in Clinic C

Scent of disinfectant
Sitting in a queue
Waiting to be seen
That’s one short straw you drew

  

Grace

Grace
The edification of morality
In serene beauty
Embellishing propriety
In consonance with decorum
Elegance and finesse
That blesses the world
With a disposition of generosity
From a charmed sanctuary within

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Just A Thought …

Each day I am determined
To write a little ditty
A poem or some prose
That rhymes or … maybe doesn’t
An etching from my soul
My heart or from my mind
That help me understand the world
And fathom out mankind

And from the blue the topics
Just pop into my head
Whether I am feeling great
Or even just half dead
And where they come from is
A mystery for sure
But every day I jot down thoughts
To perceive more and more

So if they touch your soul
Uplift you; make you glad
Then that’s my job accomplished
Though sometimes they’ll be sad
And make you think or ponder
Or maybe question too
Is this the world we live in?
Whatever can I do?

But then that’s not a problem
When we challenge our mind’s mode
For good and bad and ugly
Form this world that’s our abode
So equally I hope it helps
When writing from the heart
To prompt us all to celebrate
The good or play our part!

Nice

Why is it when we’re younger we
Have certain words drilled out?
Out of our minds, our lexicon
To never hear them shout

Some words that from our brain are banned
Or else they’ll be our vice
Such words that have done nothing wrong
Like, for example, nice!

I mean, whatever did that word
Just do to gravitate
All teachers on the planet to
Say “No!  The word I hate!”

This word that sums up perfectly
When something is just fine!
Despite the fact that there might be
More synonyms refined

For simple “nice” has been bullied
Rejected some might say
But how else can we then just wish
Each one a real ‘nice’ day!

nice

Hanging About (Haiku)

The men congregate
No work just bottles of beer
Hanging about – bored!

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Sod’s Law

How come when there’s a deadline
The time just flies so fast
Yet when we want to leave a place
Each minute seems to last

And how can one hour drag so much
Lest speed up – go so slow.
Yet when we’re in a massive rush
The clocks ping forward so!

Or what occurs when we must dash
From place A to place B
The traffic slows or simply jams
On roads; stops our journey

Or if we’ve got a lot of  time
The lights all turn to green
But under pressure you’ll be sure
That only red is seen

Then in exams why is it that
The subjects that we know
Will be bypassed in favour of
Those we’ve forgotten so!

I’ll tell you why for it is said
That “sod’s law” is a curse
The axiom “Expect the best
But then plan for the worse”

 

Tails

I think it must be rather odd
To have a wagging tail
Anatomy that wiggles wide
Less balance might derail

How strange it would be when happy
To flit and flap; express
Or as a rudder change a course
Without a second guess

And such a useful thing to have
To bat away the flies
Or even have prehensile tails
To grab and hold supplies

But then I stop and think again
It must be curious
For the tailed species to observe
The tail impaired of us

Monkey hanging by its tail

Monkey hanging by its tail (Photo credit: Bodhi Surf School)