View allAll Photos Tagged Heartbroken
This is Sarah again. I took her senior pictures on Wednesday. I won't have time to edit them until after vacation, but I enjoyed this one, so here you go. A little taste. (:
I have been tagged by the sweet Mary Jo. It's been too long since I did this. :')
Are you single/taken/heartbroken/confused?
All of the above...
What if I told you that you were pretty?
It seems customary to say "thank you." And I would probably give you a compliment in return... because that's how I roll. :P
What are you looking forward to in the next week?
Leaving for Colorado on Thursday with the family! Stoked.
Do you want to be single?
Yes, until I am mature enough to be in a relationship.
Have you pretended to like someone?
Not that I am aware.
Is it hard for you to get over someone?
Some of the hardest things I've done in my life.
What would you name your future daughter?
I have always loved the name Ariel (means "lioness of God"), but then there was The Little Mermaid... O.o I also enjoy the name Jade.
Are you good at hiding your feelings?
Yeah, people never seem to know what I'm feeling, unless it's massive frustration.
Are you listening to music right now?
Misty Edwards, yes!
How is your heart lately?
...Tattered and torn just like anyone's, but I've been listening to this song and it's moving me so much lately. God is working in me in ways I can't really understand, and at times I don't even feel at all. But I trust it is magnificent and beautiful. Learning the endurance of love.
Are you wearing socks?
No way!
What do people call you?
Hayley. -.- Or today, one person called me Allie, and another called me Kelly. Ugh.
Will you talk to the person you like tonight?
No.
When was the last time a member of the opposite sex hugged you?
An hour and a half ago.
Do you get stressed out easily?
Not particularly.
Who do you go to when you need to talk to someone?
Jesus. And I vent in my journals and talk to my brother or one of my best friends.
What is on your wrists right now?
A life bracelet, to remind me to pray for the end of abortion in my city/state/country/world.
What do you like better: hot chocolate or hot apple cider?
This depends entirely on the time of year. I think cider is usually more ideal though.
Are you a good artist?
I'm decent.
Do you miss the way things were six months ago?
February 2012... One of the times of my life. Yes, I miss the way it was, but that's mostly because of the relationships I had built.
Ever stayed up all night on the phone, with who?
Does texting until 2:00 count? Or talking in person to my brother until 3:00...? Haha.
Do you use chap stick?
ALL THE TIME. The whole time I've been filling this out my lips have been aching for some relief.
Do you have a little sister?
No little siblings at all.
Have you hugged someone within the last week?
Several. (:
What were you doing at midnight last night?
Being up too late as usual... I think I was getting ready for bed (didn't get to sleep until later though).
Have you ever regretted kissing someone?
HA, you think I've kissed someone. What a joke.
Were your last three kisses from the same person?
HAHA.
Will next Friday be a good one?
Garden of the Gods, heck yeah! :D
The moment my flash didn't fire... heartbroken. (excuse the credit tag - its just in case people go a'nicking..)
-NOT TO BE USED WITHOUT PERMISSION-
Now you're gonna kiss me
Missed me?
I missed you, everyone of you.
:]
I'm back.
So the story.
Stallion broke, I was heartbroken,
Stallion fixed, I have to get back in the habit.
Send your love :]
Oh, and i've been tagged.
Plus, sixteenth person to comment you are tagged.
Now Sixteen things.
1.My camera's name is Stallion.
2.I have a bestfriend, her name is ,Emily. , were thisclose.
3. I love boy shirts.
4. I love projects in Student Council, I feel like a Kindergardner :]
5. I can cook Pizza.
6. Platonic, is my favourite word.
7. I have a Bamboo tree named bambi.
8. Nolan is my favourite boy name.
9. I'm easily irratated.
10. My friends spoil me.
11. My car is named Scarlett, any guesses in what colour she is?
12. I am named after a Queen and a Goddess :]
13. I love thunderstorms, actually I love rain.
14. My mind is dark, my humor is darker.
15. House is my favourite show.
16. This is how old I am, it was a bitter sixteen. The way I like my chocolate.
Our beloved 28 year old Daddy Bear returned to China on 10/29/2018.
We are heartbroken to see him return but at the same time happy for him. He returns to China after 15 successful years at the San Diego Zoo. He sired 5 beautiful cubs with Bai Yun all through natural breeding. He is the only male panda who can claim this in the USA.
So very proud of him, he traveled well ( he is quite good at taking naps) and was out exploring his new beautiful home on day one in China.
I now have to make my travel plans to China, gotta see this guy again.
Aiin hoje faço 1 mês de namoro, estou mes sentindo tão feliz, em ter uma pessoa como você amor ao meu lado, que me completa. Meu amor, é impossível viver sem você, este espaço é pequeno demais para falar do grande amor que sinto por você. Hoje estou especialmente feliz por nós estarmos completando um mês juntos. Por poder dividir com você tantos momentos lindos e inesquecíveis, tempos de felicidade e paz no meu coração, plenos carinhos, satisfação de alma e corpo. Aquele primeiro beijo não foi um equívoco. Sim, o primeiro beijo não foi apenas satisfação de um impulso. E o segundo também não, e todos os seguintes que duraram nesse tempo juntos só vieram confirmar a força da minha paixão e do meu amor por você.
♥ Amor, eu te amo ;D
Original art by Lisa Betournay. #fineart #painting #skeleton #skeletonart #darkart #heartbroken #skeletonpainting #acrylic #acrylicpainting #surrealism #brokenheartpainting #sadskeleton
I took this image back in April. I didn't like it too much because I thought I looked sad. Little did I know it would adequately express how terribly sad I feel right now. I found out yesterday evening that a dear, dear friend tragically passed away....I am not trying to be melodramatic, I just couldn't leave those pretty purple flowers up here like nothing, when I feel my heart is breaking.
***********
Esta foto la tome en abril y no me gustaba mucho por que pense que me hacia ver triste. No tenia idea que expresaria perfectamente lo increiblemente triste que me siento en este momento. Me entere anoche que una muy, muy querida amiga fallecio ayer... No es melodrama, pero no podia dejar las florecitas moradas asi como si nada, cuando se me esta partiendo el corazon.
Mafra, amiguita, siempre te llevare en mi corazon...
Finally - review 068
Kim Edwards
The Memory Keeper's Daughter
First published in: 2005
This edition: Penguin Books, 2006
ISBN: 0-14-303714-5
Cover design by Greg Mollica
When Dr. David Henry's wife goes into labor, it's a stormy winter evening in the nineteen sixties; David has no other choice but to deliver his own children. Twins - a boy and a girl. The boy is perfectly healthy... but as a doctor, Henry immediately realizes his newborn girl has Down syndrome. Convincing himself he has the best intentions, he makes the decision which leaves his wife heartbroken and leaves his daughter with nowhere else to go into the (instantly loving) arms of David's nurse, Caroline. Unable to dump the baby at an institution at David's request, Caroline decides to leave town and raise the baby (Phoebe) as her own.
The Memory Keeper's Daughter centers around the consequences of David's secret decision. His wife thinks her daughter has died in childbirth. A nurse, unprepared to be a mother, lives a life in hiding out of love for a girl who is not her own. A brother is left to wonder about his twin sister and what she would have been like. Then, there's David's own struggle with what he has done.
Because he definitely struggles. It would be easy to judge David Henry for it. It's hard to imagine what kind of man, father, doctor would do such a thing? His daughter, a fragile newborn who needs him, is rejected and sent off like she's nothing more than an errand to run, delegated to the next person who has time for it. A package to be delivered to the nearest orphanage.
I'm going to relate something personal in this review. I hesitated sharing this at first but I think it will help to explain the power of this book. At least for me.
Down Syndrome 'runs' in my family. One case involves my grandfather's sister, Marie, born in the late 1930's. She passed away in October 2000 and lived to be 62 years old. She had the mental capabilities of a 5 year-old, but just as much spirit and joy. Of course my great-grandparents didn't recognize what she had at the time of her birth, unlike David. But when my great-grandparents find out, they accepted their daughter, acknowledged her and they tried to do right by her. She was always loved and taken care of (even after her parents had died; her siblings took over) - and I truly believe she was happy.
Then there was my little cousin. He didn't make it.
The Memory Keeper's Daughter, or well, David's decision broke my heart quite a bit, to be honest. Like I feared it would. It would have been easy for me to just stop reading right there. I was angered by this man's cowardice.
But... I understood, too.
The Memory Keeper's Daughter isn't as black and white. Kim Edwards shows tremendous insight into people and their dilemma's, their emotions before and after a choice is made, their guilt and other consequences - and ultimately, their redemption. Kim Edwards wanted to write a book about a family secret: What keeping a secret can do to those keeping it, and those it's being kept from. No, it's not black and white. The Memory Keeper's Daughter is full of grays, some lighter, some darker, but all grays.
David made the wrong decision. I do feel this, but I can't hate him for it. David is a complex character with a traumatic history (one that explains a lot about his choice). He hopes to protect his family, and course he also tries to protect his younger self from living his past all over again, from being confronted with his own pain.
David is hard to forgive. I'm not sure I can. But I can understand. I understand him.
Kim Edwards has stirred up an intense inner conflict within a reader, a discussion between head and heart which concludes with compassion and mercy. What an incredible talent for a novelist to have. She's someone aspiring writers can look up to.
The Memory Keeper's Daughter. What a book.
My heart was broken in the beginning, on the mend when reaching the end - but divided all the way.
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The R&R blog :)
Copyright © Karin Elizabeth. All rights reserved.
R&R series © Karin Elizabeth. Do NOT copy and repost or reproduce the review or photo anywhere without my permission.
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I block assholes.
THIS IS NOT FREE STOCK.
Some of my best memories are of having dinner at this restaurant with my family back in the late 70's - early 80's. We used to go have dinner and then sit in the lounge afterward and listen to a local duo named Panache. I was heartbroken when I found out the building had been demilished for condos... Which were never built. This was the last in a dead breed of theme based restaurants that dotted the Pinellas Suncoast. Another that comes to mike was Trader Frank's at Tiki Gardens on Indian Shores. I just can't bear the thought of this memory going away so I am putting it up here for others to (hopefully) enjoy.
The small signage picture and the larger picture on the left and the text below are credited to www.gethep.net/road/index.html
I don't recall where I found the picture on the right. I don't take credit for taking it, but I wish I had. :-)
The Santa Madeira has run its course.
The 14,000-square-foot restaurant in the shape of a Spanish galleon began operations in Madeira Beach, Florida in 1977. On the crest of 2003, the wind had been knocked out of its sails. "Trader" Jack Pearsall and a partner opened the Santa Madeira. Previously known as the Brown Derby, the restaurant was capable of serving up to 600 patrons. A Victorian style banquet room was often used for weddings and other special events. Inside, it was easy to be beaconed back to the days of the great dance halls.
On April 30th, the ship was raided by treasure seekers as all of its contents, inside and out, went to auction. In its belly was a vast assortment of nautical items, ranging from a brass diving suit, to model ships that decorated the dining room. Massive cannon replicas that tried to protect the boat from invading chain establishments also went.
As is the latest trend of failing Florida icons, management blamed the closure on an attendance drop since 9/11. In truth, the restaurant was a dying breed and so were its patrons.
The Santa Madeira seemed to lack an appeal for younger generations, leaving its meal ticket to a flock of early birds. Many of them seemed nostalgic in quotes they gave to local newspapers, recalling times when they had their anniversary or birthday at sea.
As is the case with much fleeting Florida roadside, the land is slated for condominiums. County appraisers have estimated the property at $1 million and current owner John Georgi is moving full speed ahead to close a deal with developers.
(Commentary - The development never happened and the land sits vacant almost 10 years later)
The Santa Madeira
601 American Legion Drive
Madeira Beach, FL
We're heartbroken about this.
You'll have to bear with me while I try to describe the situation. A couple of weeks ago this little squirrel hobbled into the backyard. It was severely injured. My best guess is that a dog go a hold of it. (injuries seem wrong for a car 'accident', or tangling with a cat.)
This squirrel had bite marks behind its head. Both back legs are damaged, and surely the left one is broken. It can't walk straight, and any attempt to run is a wobbly, sideways, painful thing to see. It can barely climb 'up', and has to fall to get back down.
I thought that surely it would die, and that would be that. But it has struggled to stay alive. I put sunflower seeds on the ground at it's 'favorite' spot. It picks up peanuts with its mouth, but can't balance to hold them with its front legs to break into them, so just holds them until eventually they are dropped.
I've been making sure that it had plenty of sunflower seeds, and fresh water. I've been hoping to see it MAYBE get a bit stronger; the opposite seems to be the case. It can't climb a tree, so I think it has been spending nights under our deck. With temperatures plummeting, and up to ten inches of snow forecast by Wednesday, I'm helpless to do anything more. I'm certain beyond doubt that any vet would insist on putting it down...and I'm not of that temperament. As long as it struggles to eat and drink, and is able to return each morning to 'its spot', I'll try to make it as comfortable as possible.
We both literally weep watching the pathetic effort it makes. That is probably a stupid emotional response, but to see this little squirrel struggle to get to food, struggle much harder to get to water...and to see what looks like tears in its eyes...well, it brings them to ours!
Haiti #Wecare
We’re heartbroken with the amount of devastation Mathew has left behind in Haiti and we want to pull all our efforts in to help as much as we can.
Please join us in an very Special Master Class with all the Zumba Star Instructors to help us raise as much funds as possible. All the proceeds will go to:
Prodev
Our talented team will come together on Sunday December 4th from 12:00-2:30 PM to deliver an exceptional experience with the single goal to help and give. Be ready to dance for 90min non stop with our all star Team.
Here are some the instructors that will be present:
Volha
Angelina
Bryan
Yxia
Rene
Josip
Celeste
Anna
Edmee
Will
Idania- She is flying back from Miami just for you!
Photography by Hiroshi Ishikawa
Heartbroken: EVERY Monday night at Studio80 on the Rembrandtplein in Amsterdam! Party: Heartbroken Venue: Studio80 Coverage by: Waking up in Amsterdam!
(See links) Artist: Megan Lingerfelt
The Dolly Parton mural located in Strong Alley in downtown Knoxville was recently vandalized, leaving many Knoxville residents and Dolly fans feeling heartbroken and angry. The
mural of Dolly Parton recently received the attention of the community after discovering that the color of Dolly’s lips had changed from her signature red lips to black graffiti sprayed carelessly all over her mouth. Strong Alley is also known as Artist Alley.
The original Dolly Parton mural was completed in 2019 by Colton Valentine, a renowned street artist / muralist based in San Antonio, Texas. Valentine is known for large-scale murals featuring rappers like Cardi B, Soulja Boy, and 21 Savage.
THURSDAY MAY 7 2020 - This Dolly Parton mural was recently vandalized. This is the new one. Here's what it looked like before it was vandalized
Knoxville Dolly Parton mural to be restored following vandalization
Vandalized Dolly Parton mural gets a makeover after artist finishes work in downtown Knoxville
The mural was vandalized two weeks ago when someone painted over Dolly's lips with black paint. Three other murals were also restored in Strong Alley.
Knoxville, TN. 050220.
You have a serious case of middle child syndrome. You don't understand why you can't go and do all that your older brother does, or why sometimes your grandma buys more expensive things for your older brother. You are also stuck at that in-between age where you are competing with your younger brother for attention and you sometimes still want to be babied. You threw an enormous fit today because you felt your grandma let you down. It took time to get you calmed down. I was proud of you though for trying to let it go. Afterward when you went outside I could still see you pondering this whole situation and how it was weighing on you. I know in time this will pass, but these moments are hard on both of us.
You said you'd always stay by my side....
I have had this concept in my head for months and just never got around to doing it! It took quite a while to actually put that paper on my wall and find all those markers and such.
This is the only shot I've ever edited where I like the person in black and white rather than the other way around!
What's great is I'm really happy. I'm not in the same place I was when I conceptualized this.
It kind of does apply to life right now, but it's OK. I know it's going to all work out:)
Original art by Lisa Betournay. #fineart #painting #skeleton #skeletonart #darkart #heartbroken #skeletonpainting #acrylic #acrylicpainting #surrealism #brokenheartpainting #sadskeleton
It seems that our youngest daughter (aka my wife's cat) has a boyfriend. There is one major obstacle in their relationship. She's an indoor cat, he isn't.
Explore Highest Position: #57
Keith (aka The Husband) and I were heartbroken when we saw the condition of this once magnificent house. This was the home of Keith's g-g-uncle, Peter Nickels (1832 - 1929) and his wife, Cosby Addington Quillen. The architectural details of this house include two star-shaped cutouts in the porch gable. The chimney, now gone, was constructed of stone from the surrounding area.
Uncle Peter received a small monthly pension for his service with Co. A, 22nd VA Cavalry during the Civil War. Even in his advanced years, he would walk from this house to Snowflake and back every month to get his check.
Guess there is no easy way for me to say this, but Goober has lost the use of his back legs and is paralyzed. Is my heartbroken, yes in a million pieces. Goober and I will move forward so he can have the best life possible, we are a team.. I will be getting Goober a cart so he will be able to get around. He is not in pain.. I have to express his bladder twice a day, he is able to have bowel movements. He is still the same beautiful wonderful little man anyone could ever ask for. We will work together and enjoy many more years of happiness side by side. Goober's beautiful face will still shine brightly on flickr :-)
I was heartbroken to hear the news that Tongki has died. He was due to arrive at the park next month. So sad, it would have been lovely to see him join this wonderful bear community. RIP Tongki
Polar Bears Victor and Pixel
Project Polar
Yorkshire Wildlife Park, Doncaster
September 2018
Relationships are like glass. Sometimes it's better to leave them broken than try to hurt yourself putting it back together. ~Author Unknown
{36/50}
Those are supposed to be birds... and you should really view this large<3
I felt so uninspired today.
Today I went and took pictures for a little bit with Megan. I got to get wet! :)
I will try and have something better for you all tomorrow!
Goodnight<3
WAIT, I GOT TAGGED:
Are you single/taken/heartbroken/confused?
-Single... forever alone.
What if I told you that you were pretty?
-I would thank you<3
What are you looking forward to in the next week?
-Selling corn and making money. Practicing Volleyball... not much.
Do you want to be single?
-Yes and No. Yes because I won't have to worry about all the drama. No because I like to cuddle :3
Have you pretended to like someone?
-Yep
Is it hard for you to get over someone?
-YES. I'm still not over someone and it has been over 2 months. :P
What would you name your future daughter?
-ALICE ALICE ALICE ALICE. :D
Are you good at hiding your feelings?
-Yes, scary good.
Are you listening to music right now?
-Yes, JASON MRAZ and BIRDY.<3 <3
How is your heart lately?
-Emotionally or physically!? Emotionally it's a wreck. But physically... I hope it's awright.
Are you wearing socks?
-Yes, I love socks<3
What do people call you?
-Maddy, Gibby, Madwa,
Will you talk to the person you like tonight?
-Probably not. :'(
When was the last time a member of the opposite sex hugged you?
-about 2 months ago. :'(
Do you get stressed out easily?
-Depends...
Who do you go to when you need to talk to someone?
-Alice, my camera.
What is on your wrists right now?
-A pony tail holder.... that is a weird question...
What do you like better: hot chocolate or hot apple cider?
-HOT CHOCOLATE<3 Mmmmm I love chocolate.
Are you a good artist?
-I hope so
Do you miss the way things were six months ago?
-Nooooo. Six months ago, I had no idea how to work my camera or photoshop! And I had school. :P
Ever stayed up all night on the phone, with who?
-Yes, with my friend.
Do you use chap stick?
-YES! I hate having dry lips.
Do you have a little sister?
-Yes, she is 4 years old... She is annoying, but adorable.
Have you hugged someone within the last week?
-My dog...
What were you doing at midnight last night?
-Watching Grey's Anatomy... hehehe:)
Have you ever regretted kissing someone?
-Have never been kissed... Now I feel lonely.
Will next Friday be a good one?
-OF COURSE<3
If you read all of this, consider yourself tagged:D
... when wee Dinah the cat died in late January this year we were heartbroken ... she'd been an intricate part of our lives for 17 years ... we played with her when she was a kitten and cared for her as she succumbed to disease and old age ... we loved having a cat (or 2) around the house but didn't know (given our own advancing years) if we should or could have another cat ... in early october we saw a notice in the newspaper that the local SPCA was trying to find homes for the many cats in its shelter ... given that cats in overcrowded conditions often get stressed and sick and end up being 'put down' we thought we could and should help ... and so Genie came into our home ... she's a two-year old (as we later found out) pixie-bob ... it took her a month to get settled but since then she's been nothing but a joy to have in our home.
A lot of spraying among the fruit trees here. Every year less insects, and fewer birds ... I'm heartbroken. The many strarlings, for one, seem to have emigrated
Haiti #Wecare
We’re heartbroken with the amount of devastation Mathew has left behind in Haiti and we want to pull all our efforts in to help as much as we can.
Please join us in an very Special Master Class with all the Zumba Star Instructors to help us raise as much funds as possible. All the proceeds will go to:
Prodev
Our talented team will come together on Sunday December 4th from 12:00-2:30 PM to deliver an exceptional experience with the single goal to help and give. Be ready to dance for 90min non stop with our all star Team.
Here are some the instructors that will be present:
Volha
Angelina
Bryan
Yxia
Rene
Josip
Celeste
Anna
Edmee
Will
Idania- She is flying back from Miami just for you!
Photography by Hiroshi Ishikawa
Richard, Rupert and Alfred with other family members.
Further information from Darron Davies: " Rupert, centre worked as an clerk - later years at Castlemaine Foundry and died in 1980. Rupert handled all the paperwork with War Office including death of other brother Richard Oswald Roberts (left) who was killed in 1916 on Western Front. Older lady would be mother Martha Roberts who died in 1942. I presume girl to be Mavis ( who was frail) who died in 1919. Other sisters are twins and not pictured: Enid and Aimee. Father Henry Owen Roberts ( not pictured) would have been heartbroken - died in 1930 in Melbourne. Family grew out of Roberts family ( prosperous bootsellers and boot merchants) who settled in Heatherleigh, a home in Hunter St, Castlemaine, just down from Buda historic home."
Richard Oswald Roberts on the left:
Regimental number - 3973
Place of birth - Castlemaine Victoria
Religion - Presbyterian
Occupation - Customs officer
Address - Heatherleigh, Hunter Street, Castlemaine, Victoria
Marital status - Single
Age at embarkation - 26
Next of kin - Mother, Mrs M Roberts, Heatherleigh, Hunter Street, Castlemaine, Victoria
Enlistment date - 10 August 1915
Rank on enlistment - Private
Unit name - 3rd Battalion, 12th Reinforcement
AWM Embarkation Roll number - 23/20/2
Embarkation details - Unit embarked from Sydney, New South Wales, on board HMAT A7 Medic on 30 December 1915
Rank from Nominal Roll - Private
Unit from Nominal Roll - 3rd Battalion
Fate - Killed in Action 22-27 July 1916
Age at death from cemetery records - 27
Place of burial - No known grave
Commemoration details - Australian National Memorial, Villers-Bretonneux, France
Villers-Bretonneux is a village about 15 km east of Amiens. The Memorial stands on the high ground ('Hill 104') behind the Villers-Bretonneux Military Cemetery, Fouilloy, which is about 2 km north of Villers-Bretonneux on the east side of the road to Fouilloy.
The Australian National Memorial, Villers-Bretonneux is approached through the Military Cemetery, at the end of which is an open grass lawn which leads into a three-sided court. The two pavilions on the left and right are linked by the north and south walls to the back (east) wall, from which rises the focal point of the Memorial, a 105 foot tall tower, of fine ashlar. A staircase leads to an observation platform, 64 feet above the ground, from which further staircases lead to an observation room. This room contains a circular stone tablet with bronze pointers indicating the Somme villages whose names have become synonymous with battles of the Great War; other battle fields in France and Belgium in which Australians fought; and far beyond, Gallipoli and Canberra.
On the three walls, which are faced with Portland stone, are the names of 10,885 Australians who were killed in France and who have no known grave. The 'blocking course' above them bears the names of the Australian Battle Honours.
After the war an appeal in Australia raised £22,700, of which £12,500 came from Victorian school children, with the request that the majority of the funds be used to build a new school in Villers-Bretonneux. The boys' school opened in May 1927, and contains an inscription stating that the school was the gift of Victorian schoolchildren, twelve hundred of whose fathers are buried in the Villers-Bretonneux cemetery, with the names of many more recorded on the Memorial. Villers-Bretonneux is now twinned with Robinvale, Victoria, which has in its main square a memorial to the links between the two towns.
Panel number, Roll of Honour,
Australian War Memorial - 38
Miscellaneous information from
cemetery records - Parents: Henry and Martha ROBERTS, "Heatherleigh", Hunter Street, Castlemaine, Victoria
War service: Western Front
Alfred Henry Roberts on the right:
Taken at time of embarkation at Port Melbourne 4 April 1916
Regimental number - 4761
Place of birth - Castlemaine Victoria
Religion - Baptist
Occupation - Ironmonger
Address - Hetherleigh, Hunter Street, Castlemaine, Victoria
Marital status - Single
Age at embarkation - 28
Next of kin - Father, Henry Owen Roberts, Hetherleigh, Hunter Street, Castlemaine, Victoria
Enlistment date - 10 February 1916
Rank on enlistment - Private
Unit name - 24th Battalion, 12th Reinforcement
AWM Embarkation Roll number - 23/41/3
Embarkation details - Unit embarked from Melbourne, Victoria, on board HMAT A14 Euripides on 4 April 1916
Rank from Nominal Roll - Private
Unit from Nominal Roll - 24th Battalion
Fate - Killed in Action 21 September 1917
Age at death from cemetery records - 30
Place of burial - Menin Road South Military Cemetery (Plot II, Row K, Grave No. 3), Ypres, Belgium
Panel number, Roll of Honour,
Australian War Memorial - 102
Miscellaneous information from
cemetery records - Parents: Henry and Martha ROBERTS, "Heatherleigh", Hunter Street, Castlemaine, Victoria
War service: Western Front
Local author Pemerika Tauiliili held a launching ceremony for his four books on 1-19-11. One of them was "The Rat & The Bat and Other Stories", pictured here.
NONE OF THE POEMS THAT FOLLOW APPEAR IN OR HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH THE PUBLICATION SHOWN ABOVE - I'M JUST RUNNING OUT OF ROOM BECAUSE THERE ARE SO MANY OF THEM
If you'd like to hear the work of someone who I think really works magic with words, go listen to the late Dan Hicks sing "News From Up The Street". Just a suggestion.
LONG DISTANCE DEMONS
Most esteemed monsignor,
exorcise my phone – those long
distance demons won’t leave me
alone. It shakes the foundations
of my faith as a believer when
hell’s banshees beckon through
my phone receiver. Unreasonable
reasoning, and when that fails,
they scream like a train flying
off of the rails. Firmly convinced,
puffed up at their proudest, they’ll
win hearts and minds just by
screaming the loudest. Tweet
goes the ring tone, straight up
goes my hair – the rest of my
head spins just like Linda Blair.
Speech too obscene for me
to even tape – it ain’t like phone
sex, no, it’s more like phone
rape. Cut the line, you advise -
but I hope in vain that an angel
might call, not the demons again.
ONE NIGHT
One night two lizards got it on
right in front of me, beneath
the living room lamp where
their kind congregate to catch
flying termites. How brazen,
shameless and graceless,
those two! From behind,
one mounted, teeth buried
in the other’s neck, a reptile
ritual old as time. Yeah, but
not in my house! I pondered
disruption by force to assert
moral authority, but then
it dawned on me, what does
it profit a man to dominate
lizards so uncultured they
could care less for subtlety?
One night I said whatever,
still mysteriously pissed about
the rude, ill-timed reminder
of what I might have missed.
LIT FEST
No, they wouldm't like a lit fest
unless the lit was green with
a dead president's portrait.
They might like a lit fest
as long as the lit expressed
their exhaulted history qute
extravagantly, tracing a line
from Nafanua to heroes in
World War Two to winning
the Superbowl. They might
provide a grant for a lit fest
as long as the lit kept
a respectable distance
from topics like poverty
in paradise, pockets full
of federal funds, even
children with a different
last name who somehow
have the greedy elite eyes
of some distinguished clan.
So let's do a lit fest just
to articulate and celebrate
the irony of being free
within certain restrictions.
UKULELE ANGELS
A band called Ukulele Angels
entertaining at the mall. Shop
to the soothing sounds, stop
to watch. Ascend, serenaded
by Ukulele Angels, to shopping
heaven where everything’s
30% off. In the mall, Camelot
of plenty, customers are royalty
and locals just here to serve.
Happy campers do a consumer
hula as Ukulele Angels strum
rhythmically. See paramedics
scurry across the mall with
some urgency. It’s alright –
just too much excitement for
some tourist eyeing his wife’s
store receipts. No one notices
the heartbroken provider exit
the mall on a stretcher while
Ukulele Angels sing happy
trails to you until we meet
again.
BLOOM
The sun in Aquarius caused
a bloom of poetry like a bloom
of algae in the sea. Oh, that’s
very convenient for me. I like
excuses handed to me on
a platter. The earth in Leo
caused a boost to the ego
that was truthfully much
needed. Sometimes it’s like
no one appreciates my genius.
The moon in whatever very
often makes me wonder why
I get so possessed. Uranus
in Sagittarius usually leads me
to guess inspiration will just
remain a mystery.
LITTLE BREEZES
Undo these restraints,
I want to be a hurricane -
brewing off your shores,
gathering anger to show
you what you’re asking
for when you push thin
air around. Air, by nature
thin, seeks out similar
energy – do you feel held
back unfairly, like me?
Then let’s marry forces
to restore the balance.
When the little breezes
have felt big long enough,
caused enough mayhem
to really feel tough, they
go their separate ways,
unity dissipated. Small
wonder they part as
unhappy as they started –
even their power can’t
make them feel together.
ROCKABILLY
Rockabilly - more personality
than Punk, and like Dracula it
just needs fresh blood mixed
with its dust to rise up again.
It waits patiently in its voodoo
cave, poised to seduce youth
culture, with Elvis as its new
Pied Piper. Kids tune in to his
rhythms, new way of talking.
Now nobody feels like doing
much besides rocking. Aliens
have landed, contaminating
our DNA –Rockabilly’s turning
the youth away from tradition,
and on to cosmic awareness.
Life shifts from claustrophobic
to limitless. You can forget
Russians invading -Rockabilly
overthrew the USA while you
weren’t looking.
PURITY
Old familiar roles. A villain with
intentions impure, whose desires
threaten disaster. A hero fated
to slay the proverbial dragon,
a knight in waiting, forced to be
brave. A convincing hero saves
the day, but a convincing villain
can’t just fail as if by design. His
defeat needs to reveal a moral
weakness, unlike the purity that
guides a hero to victory. Same
story told a thousand ways –
same message we’re reminded
of every day. Purity - a quality
we’re not inclined to naturally,
otherwise heroes would be
a dime a dozen.
ASKING FOR TROUBLE
Might be unwise to walk
up to a dragon and sing
Light My Fire. That would
be asking for trouble,
inviting yourself to the last
supper you’ll ever be part of.
Dragons just assume you’re
a threat – they haven’t
exactly made many friends
throughout history. You
probably won’t get as far
as saying you’ve come to
apologize for stereotyping
slashing claws as morally
flawed – hello breakfast –
make like bacon and get
ready to fry. You have to
admire the simplicity –
mutual dislike and distrust
accepted unquestioningly.
Either party surprising the
other with an unexpected
olive branch would clearly
be asking for trouble.
CHART
Number one this week – good
on you. Don’t take the chart
too seriously – next week it
could be me. Or some sibling
ensemble who we privately
think are terrible. Or some
has-been on the comeback
trail, like McArthur who told
the Philippines, I shall return,
and damn if he didn’t keep
his word. What determines
the results of this chart? It
mirrors of our fickle nature,
the shifting sands of what
fascinates the rank and file.
Freaks or solid citizens, our
chart lets everyone in, true
equality in popularity, maybe
our only real democracy. So
if you make number one,
congratulations. Just don’t
take the chart too seriously,
because next week it could
be me.
GREEN CERTIFICATES
You make it so someone can
take it from you, earn it just so
you can burn it. I wish I wasn’t
so concerned about these green
certificates. You need it if you
want to have any fun – if you’ve
got any time when your work day
is done. Someone might rob you
with a gun for green certificates.
You can trade it for just about
any old thing, but when it runs
out, what a sad song you sing.
And so we consider everything
in terms of green certificates.
It can make you assured when
you’re growing old and feeble –
unless you’ve got vices like
gambling or needles. People
connive, lie, and wheedle for
their green certificates. My
blood isn’t red now, I think
it’s turned green. No longer
my choice if I’m generous
or mean. All of my thoughts
and my dreams are of these
green certificates.
PUSHING FOOTWEAR
With no facts accessible,
it’s rumors to the rescue,
riding into the picture on
a bullshit brown horse,
here to force the hand
of that enigma called truth.
It’s none of your business,
but you’ll still get plenty
attention demonstrating
your superior reasoning
and unparalleled insight
by spreading rumors. So
what if it seems likely?
Likely to who? If it seems
so likely to you, shouldn’t
you be the one doing it?
Like some kind of tout
pushing footwear, we
try to match shoes to
feet they seem to fit.
MOON
You were named after the moon,
and like it you shine when it’s time
to shine and fade when it’s time
to fade. You’re always there, you
just appear different, going through
a phase – circular nature. Chasing
your own tail for eternity? Oh no,
be more complimentary – this is
balance in action, arranged so
dark and light both have their time.
Moon proves you can show both,
just never together. Delicate not
dominant, moonlight won’t try
to burn you, just illuminate your
path through the night.
BUILDINGS
Ground zero again - everything
built up now gone. Back to just
bones, muscle, and blood, back
to memories, living history.
They say don’t build on sand,
but even solid rock trembles,
shaking off our vanity as if it
were dandruff. Man builds
to celebrate himself – castles
to keep animals out, keep us
contained in comfort. Wood,
brick and steel, transformed
by ideas into buildings, made
to last, or so we believe. Then
most buildings collapse, circle
back to just an idea awaiting
realization. Ground zero again -
now a garden, just as it began.
Returning knows something
buildings don’t.
AN ULTIMATE GOOD (FOR STEPHEN HAWKING)
I won’t swim in the ocean,
I won’t rock and roll, I won’t
climb up a mountain, or dig
a small hole for the roses I’ll
never grow. Won’t explore
on my own going wherever
I please, never hammer
a nail nor chainsaw a tree
fallen in the path of the car
I’ll never drive. Never any
of this – why even bother
staying alive? My body’s
betrayed me, but I’ve still
got a mind that’s never
forgotten there’s so much
left to find. My runaway
speech left so much unsaid,
but I’ll still find a way to
share what’s in my head.
Can’t touch you with hands,
only with my belief there’s
an ultimate good more
for you than for me.
RISK BEING RIGHT
Uncertainty holds some kind
of safety, a sort of comfort,
a weary spirit’s last resort.
You can always say you just
don’t know, and no one can
argue with that. And if you’re
not sure if anything needs
doing, then who can blame
you for doing nothing? I’m
not even sure what your
name is anymore – I mean,
you may have changed it.
Since yesterday, you may
be different too – continuity
isn’t guaranteed. Sorry, I
can’t recall whether I ever
took you seriously. Define
yourself for me one more
time, please – that might
reverse my uncertainty.
No one wants to be wrong,
nor will they risk being right.
Just a symptom of our times.
PRESTIGE
Please don’t die – I can’t afford
the family crisis. Please don’t die
- make me demonstrate a love
I never felt. Please don’t die
- make me return all the favors
you never did for my family.
Please don’t die and make us
pay for respect. Is it the man
you want us to honor, or just
his imagined prestige? Will
Heaven be impressed by the
size of a funeral? Do the angels
all expect an envelope? Until
our land is blessed with money
growing on trees like coconuts,
please make an issue with my
employers why they don’t pay
me as much as you want me
to donate. Please don’t die –
those with little have to empty
their pockets to fill the purses
of those who already have
plenty. Before I die, please
strip my name of any prestige –
spare the loved ones I leave
behind this final exploitation.
YARDMEN
We’re not at war with nature,
but yardmen still serve as soldiers
in the battle to make something
beautiful. This beauty will only
be temporary, a mostly green
mandala, changing even while
you’re cleaning off the blades.
Chaos forced into order, ugly
transformed from a pumpkin
Into a princess, but only till
midnight – plants formenting
rebellion, writing their green
constitution till they tremble
at approaching Robespierre
wielding a weed eater. From
a casual glance, you’d never
see the drama of managing
plants – they’ll be back, it’s
force of habit, but so will you.
How plant-like, we humans –
maybe by nature we’re not
so beautiful, but with work
we can emerge as at least
half-presentable.
SUN
Sun, you life-giver, why do you
drain me so? Pass the kava,
Oliver Twist, twist that machete
at a cleaner angle, look how
much better the cut. Dance
in the ballroom of your mind
as you waltz the lawn mower
round again – the square gets
smaller. Weed eaters will get
you immediate results. If you’d
prefer a task more intimate,
take the clippers and trade
gossip with the shrubs while
sculpting their details. It looks
very nice in the end, but like
Hamlet, I’m too much in the
sun. Someone get this Dane
a decent pair of shades.
HUMPTY DUMPTY
Humpty Dumpty sitting merrily
on his wall, a celebrity, ready
to serenade all and sundry with
a happy tune. Why is it you can
always tell it's the friendly ones
headed for a fall? Humpty courts
disaster, perched precariously –
neither one side nor the other –
beaming neutrality. Forgets
his own fragility, how easily
he could fly out of the frying
pan into the fire, end up just
another omelet. I’m late for
breakfast with destiny, he
remembers suddenly from
high on his wall – she’ll just
have to wait till I’m ready.
Mortality dismissed as trivial,
but meanwhile the suspense
is killing me. How long more
can you balance like that,
Humpty? Fatalistic company
can be fun, he opines, better
catch this heart and mind
before it expires. Humpty
Dumpty’s already a memory,
though he’s not even gone.
Why wait till it’s all over, he
wonders, to join in the fun?
SUMMER
Summer again and I’m still waiting
for the world to catch up with me.
So many summers come and gone,
some with others, some alone.
Always the promise of starting
again – time for whatever was
yesterday to end. Again I find
I couldn’t finish something, only
defend my emotional Alamo till
summer brought reinforcements.
AREN'T WE ALL
Imagine a Hobbes without
a Calvin - he can be a bright,
shining presence, but needs
someone it means something
to, or else all that brightness
can't ignite. Aren't we all like
Peter Pan - able to amaze
and delight when we know
someone cares, but crippled
inside, a hollow echo of all
we can be, when we doubt
that anyone does.
FARM ANIMAL VALENTINE
Nature takes out insurance
every species will survive,
if not thrive. If thrive means
proliferate, it would appear
we’ve achieved our quota,
though there’s no future
for our fine young piglets,
save at breakfast tables
across the USA, where we
make sure America stays
on the go, and fuel national
expansion of your borders
and your waistbands. Eat
America, eat – we’ve
sacrificed our flesh, our
essence – just like some
Saint Valentine you’d find
In the supermarket.
POKER
It isn’t the hand that I wanted,
but the luck of the draw leaves
no other play. Losing at poker
while some wiser player takes
the prize. Hate the game all
you want, but one cannot win
being unwilling to risk it. Cards
just confuse me – representing
royalty – kings and queens with
their underlings, all competing
to outrank. Together forming
a narrative played out again
and again as long as anyone
can remember – wish for luck,
test your skill, kill or be killed.
SACRED
No, no, no, you’ve got it all
wrong – there’s lots of things
I think are sacred. Truth told
without putting in the boot
A smile without a price tag.
Puppies happy to see me.
Something actually good
on TV. A song’s that’s not
a carbon copy. Fine days,
fine people, fine music,
fine wine, finding there’s
as much joy as suffering.
All of this and more, all
sacred to me. The biggest
profanity is you thinking
I’m fooled so easily.
BUILDINGS
Beautiful buildings, if you look
at them right. Beautiful buildings
best seen from afar, the way
they interact with the landscape.
Beautiful buildings, see how
they reflect off the water
at night. The closer you get,
the less you sense their true
majesty. Beautiful buildings
can’t be judged by just one
door or window. You have
to see them in total. Kind of
like some people who’ll stun
you from a distance but don’t
seem beautiful at all up close.
OLD EUROPE
I want culture. I want history.
I want philosophy. I want
justification for not being
a barbarian. I want the best
that’s survived all the wars
since they started recording
this primal beast’s progress.
Progress always throwing up
something new but seldom
something lasting. Nothing
worthy of replacing all that
stays timeless in old Europe.
THE DEAL
Got no idea what the deal
really is, only so many
thoughts about what it
could be. Don't know for
sure what the deal really
means, only that if feels
like something's changed.
Wish I knew what the deal
is, because I try to take
care of my own, and let
those who don't want
to be my own go free.
TALKING DOG
I’m a talking dog, but I’ve
learned to keep quiet. I’m
a talking dog hurting for
good conversation, some
meaningful interaction,
cause with no one to talk
to, what’s the point being
able to talk at all? All this
buzz about magic lately -
vampires are chic, shape
shifters are cool, regular
people with superpowers
rule – must be symbolic
of something, like how
we have the gifts inside
us to rise up, overcome,
break free. So now I’ve
cast off the shackles of
animal speech and still,
no one wants to listen
to me. A bone for some
beautiful poetry…
HAPPINESS
Strange how you attract so
many enemies when you’re
happy. You’re seen as either
a total fool or as having some
unfair advantage. Oh woe all
the wrongs in the world, so
many hurting, it’s unfair that
anyone should be happy, it’s
an insult to all the suffering,
all the rapes, killing, stealing,
that anyone should find life
full of joy. Mea culpa, I didn’t
mean to, I was suffering just
like you, and then a beautiful
person said something that
changed my point of view
and I knew that if happiness
is really so rare, then we’d
better grab it. We’ll keep
it safe until it can come out
for more of you.
ZOMBIES
Now I know why zombies
are so popular. Deep down
inside, we know it’s really us
who are the zombies – we
stumble through life with
minds scrambled by poison
drugs, poison food and
worst of all, poison ideas.
Once in awhile someone
remembers they’re human,
but waking up to global
warming, world hunger,
economic disaster, racial
profiling, Al-Quida, school
shootings and Trump sends
them running right back
to the comfort of poison
oblivion. So in those high
rated shows, the zombies
might be the bad guys, but
somewhere inside we’re
thinking – go, zombies, go.
BLUES DONE BADLY
Blues done badly – let it
remain just a private joke
between friends. Cause
blues done really well
makes you feel, if not
forgiven, like at least
we still have moments
we transcend our flaws.
Blues don’t cast stones,
just eloquently screams
at humanity, hey, you
cut me open.
APIA SEAWALL
Apia - crazy rich or crazy poor,
no in-between. But both rich
and poor know not to go late
at night to the seawall – that’s
inviting trouble. Joe Foreigner,
loaded on liquid cheer, missing
home, doesn’t know better.
Hopes the ocean will restore
something. Crazy poor street
denizen sees money, not
a person. If he ever speaks
of this night, he’ll say it was
need. Feed a family, feed
a habit, feed resentment –
whatever. Joe Foreigner,
looking down on himself,
the seawall a launching pad
spring-boarding his soul
somewhere there’s no crazy
rich or crazy poor. Wonders -
I thought this was paradise –
what happened?
SWEET, SWEET, SWEET
I’m told it’s just a trick of history
the Indians didn’t eat the Pilgrims
instead of feeding them. British
flavor, I’m told, is bitter, unlike us
islanders, so sweet, sweet, sweet.
Our people here had apprehensions
of being eaten by Fijians – oral
histories of traumatic emotions
not so sweet, sweet, sweet. Bad
conflicts back then over food, over
women, land and titles, chiefs and
children, even men all made up as
maidens, appearing sweet, sweet,
sweet. Now such crude hunger’s
consigned to the past – these days
we do battle for money and class.
Back then we had muscles, now
we have gas – our cars are sweet,
sweet, sweet.
BETWEEN THE TREEES AND THE FLAMES
Smoke forcing us from our homes –
anywhere we can breathe. Guilty
of the sin of being flakey, we
preview the afterlife we’ll have
if we don’t change our too-cool-
for-school demeanor. California
has no answer to global warming –
danger won't just meditate forever.
This smoke is like a home invasion,
unconstitutional, but I don’t know
who to sue. I screwed over lots
of people to live comfortably,
and if that freak Mother Nature
thinks she can just move in with
me, then her huggers can go stand
between the trees and the flames.
MOMENT
Well, it was a thrill at the
moment. Facing pressure
to be amazing, you get
what you pay for, and
this isn’t Vegas. I pick
apart all the little flaws
in the performance, all
the moments some
different assumption
would have resulted
in something more
triumphant, and tell
myself what the hell,
that was me in that
moment just like this
is me in this one.
IN MY RADIO MIND
Beach Boys playing in my
radio mind, knowing Surfer
Girl’s answer is “no”. Waves
will still crash on the beach,
crabs will still scramble like
good professionals, suntan
lotion will still gob up in
quiet waters, lifeguards
will still lord it over guys
going to seed, kids will still
dig up buried treasure left
in the sand by dogs,
the beach will still need
attention from otherwise
good citizens compelled
into community service
on the weekends. It will
all still look the same – just
not to me in my radio mind.
BODY REBELLION
Body rebellion, even among
dear ones who always tried
to be strong for us. All this
time, were you crumbling
inside? My own weakness
was more to the surface,
but in you strength was all
I ever saw. Now, in your
time of need, it’s a familiar
helplessness I feel against
your body rebellion. Like
Marie Antoinette backed
into a corner by mobs, you
feel painfully aware of your
body’s demands, but know
it asks for more than you
have left to give.
NO LIMIT
No limit except the words
at your disposal to describe
your horizons. Get me that
dictionary, I want not only
to expand, but also to tell
it on the mountain.
SEALED
It’s sealed, not with a kiss,
but by the court. No one
will know but the lawyers.
Prejudicial, not beneficial
to anyone, now it’s sealed
like Pandora’s Box, for only
the foolish to open. Bury
it deep underground like
nuclear matter. Be clear
that this is a menace, not
a power. Delete the public
records, and let the only
mention of it be written
in Latin and stored deep
in the Vatican. Sure, there
may be speculation, but
mystery’s soon forgotten,
exposed as invention, as
obviously preposterous.
But for now, take masking
tape, wrap it with care -
just make sure it remains
sealed.
IF WE KNEW ALL THERE IS TO KNOW
We filter what we see through
our own particular lens, often
missing the big picture, but
maybe it's all for the better.
For if we knew all there is
to know, we might recoil
at how much danger we're
in just getting out of bed.
If we knew all there is to
know, we'd realize there
must be a God because
things don't always go
as wrong as they might.
We love and hate based
on what we think we know,
and emotion will call logic
into question, but maybe
it's all for the better.
LANGUAGE
We were given language
not just to build endless
towers to nowhere, but
to build bridges between
minds. A bridge between
hearts is a matter more
complicated, but it can
be accomplished. It can,
it can, it can, it can, it can.
Language, I'm counting
on you - get a message
across the wide canyons
of disbelief for me.
BIG FENCE
Big fence, not even built yet
but turning our country into
a gated community. You can
be master or slave, depending
on your wages, depending
on your tax breaks. Big fence –
not as nature intended, but
as reassurance of our purity.
Dirty hands won’t besmirch
a system working so perfectly
for us. If they want prosperity,
let them clean up their act.
We kicked out the British –
let them banish the Spanish,
decolonize their mentality.
The land of the free doesn’t
just mean charity, but we’re
still really nice guys from
behind our big fence.
I MUST BE ON DRUGS
Why is everybody on drugs?
Little drugs, big drugs, legal
drugs or otherwise, we’re all,
to some degree, on drugs.
You take drugs when you’re
sick, and we’re sick to death
of fear. Fear of Mexicans, fear
of Russians, fear of cops, fear
of robbers, fear of failure,
fear of success, fear of Satan,
fear of Jesus, fear of being
poor, fear of being rich, the
list goes on and on. Stop using
drugs and you won’t be afraid
any longer. You might still be
aware of all these scary things,
but you’ll just say whatever.
So if I just say whatever, don’t
do a Nancy Reagan and jump
to the conclusion I must be
on drugs.
SHREDS
Shreds – all that’s left of love
after the dogs of doubt have
had their way. Enemies smell
the same as friends, and to
the dogs of doubt, all comers
are deceivers. At the first sign
of threat to the heart, they’ll
attack regardless of innocence
or guilt. Shreds – lifeless, torn,
defenseless, ghosts of what
might have grown threatening
or glorious. If you must feed
the dogs of doubt, keep them
on a tight leash, lest your own
defense become your undoing.
ADVANCE
Such a slow advance -
molasses, moving by the
fraction. Any movement
is better than becoming
hard like a rock time’s
hammer can’t crack.
Such a slow advance –
not like Cong retaking
Saigon, driven by a zeal
bordering on the holy.
Such a slow advance –
Sherlock Holmes puzzled
at clues that don’t fit,
while crime thrives in
corners unlit. Such a slow
advance – the stone
at the top of the hill once
more. What separates
patience from insanity?
Only purpose, the free
choice to advance, no
matter how blindly, no
matter how slowly.
REFUND COUNTER
I take offense that I’m expending
all this love on you but you don’t
respond in kind. I take umbrage
and insist you owe me something.
My feelings don’t come cheap,
but I offered them at a discount,
then was injured beyond belief
when you decided you could
do without them. Do you shop
with your heart and love within
your budget? You do me great
dishonor taking my love to the
refund counter, returning it
unopened – denying it without
even trying it. No more will you
squeeze my merchandise then
leave it abandoned. Your status
of preferred customer is stripped,
and your credit’s no longer valid
at my outlet.
TRUE ONE
Over and over, through and
through - you don't recognize
the true one until after you've
been untrue. The true one
still believes after it seems
there's nothing left to believe
in. The true one makes you
feel forgiven by everyone
but yourself. The true one
conceals their true nature,
just to level the playing field.
but when you stop playing
around, inside the truth's
revealed. The true one
emerges as obvious, but
seldom at first. The true
one often wonders why
they even bother with you -
try to recognize the true one
before you've been untrue.
ONE-SIDED
How long do you think
a one-sided building
can stand? At the first
sign of adversity, see
it shake, foundations
swaying. A one-sided
building may put on
a brave front, but
even the blind see
through it. Life goes
on public display –
none but an egotist
can take it. Nature
abhors a one-sided
building, would deny
you a permit to even
design it like that.
A one-sided building,
like a house divided,
questions itself – is it
right that I even exist?
So before you break
ground – make sure
your structure includes
two sides, or alas it
may tower in sweet
dreams but collapse
in cold daylight.
TRAVEL COMPANIONS
A little piece of galaxy dust
drifting all alone. Once part
of something bigger, now
barely a memory, unaware
of its own history. Over time,
longer than we can imagine,
tiny specks in an infinite void
might find each other, turn
into a cloud, become solid,
achieve mass, explode into
a new sun. Events happen
slowly, longer than we have
time to wait. Our fate is to
go the way of dust in space,
maybe drift alone forever,
or maybe be lucky enough
to connect and perpetuate.
No matter how long it takes,
our nature is to find travel
companions while we wait
for something to happen.
SUN
Sun might come out, but
inside the night never ends.
Better to sleep through
the night than to listen –
darkness is voiceless for
a reason. Sun might come
up on a ravaged landscape,
a purgatory city populated
by fallen angels with bills
to pay, debts to negotiate,
old scores they’re hoping
eternity will settle. Sun,
we turn away from you
half the time, you divide
us by nature. Inside, still
waitiing for the dawn
to break, as if my flesh
and and bones could
ever be that transparent.
SUPPOSE
I can suppose good
things or bad. Damn,
these choices can be
so inconvenient. I go
by what's right in front
of my nose. Smell will
help me tell, I suppose.
WATCH MY FLOWERS
Alas, now’s your season
of returning to the soil.
You flowered, bloomed,
matured, then withered.
Now nature begins its
process all over, some
younger thing dreaming
of lasting forever. As I
watch my flowers thrive
and decline, their cycle
just going much quicker
than mine, I’m reminded
it’s all natural and there’s
no reason to feel I asked
for it, that this somehow
is punishment.