Doppler Gang

Thought it was you but no,
it was just your hair
on another woman’s head
she said I heard
you split so sorry
but
I wear her hide with pride.

Thought I was paranoid
until you stopped watching me
and now my daily motions
pass into obscurity,
my thoughts stranded
on the beach
of my own emotions.

Thought I was ready so
I girded my loins
for the afray, but hey,
the stage was empty
save for a discarded face
wipe that smile clean
into next week.

Thought I had the spunk
punk rocked me flat
with two blue eyes of
insolence sincere
and hench hens
surrounded me
with imagined complicity.

Thought my mind was made
up goes arse over
never say ever and
afterwards I lie,
separated from my own
head;
you’re such a globe ache.

Thought this song was
about you you’re so
lame your life’s a poem
that doesn’t rhyme
with mine goes into
re-verse so
I think I’ll walk, thanks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
ar 2025

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A peedie poem about a muckle bird.

Albatrossicals

By full moon on the first of November
a great bird preened its wings
hunting far out on the oceans
by night and by day wandering.

She cries salted tears for her lover
lost in equatorial zones
across the Northernmost waters
and so far, so very far from home.

An aviated quest for redemption
a search beyond limits of sail
sleeping through tempest or peril
fallen down on the back of a whale.

Albatross crosses the wave tops
each wing is a hundred feet long
soaring and wheeling and diving
her heart is not where it belongs.

Albatross glides the Atlantic
a creature of infinite grace
displaced queen of the Gulf Stream
Pacific, alone and misplaced.

The truth is there for the telling:
reconciliation,
a soul all alone on the North Sea
fly south to your love and be one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ar 25

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Thanks very much for listening. Art is an act of generosity and as such is made to be shared.

Some thoughts on the most peculiar relationship that the fast moving modern town has to its situation. Executive versus historical. Nature versus Cafe Latte. Rocks versus paper and scissors.

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Thanks very much for listening. Art is an act of generosity and as such is made to be shared.