I’ve set myself a target
to swim around the world,
length by length I’ll do it
just you wait and see…
let me work out now
how far I’ve got to date..
if I average out the lengths
to, lets just say, ten a day
and to date I’ve been
hmm hold on while I think..
ok maybe ten times it seems
then by my reckoning
I’ve probably swum
about as far as tesco’s
by now and to tell
the truth I’m
and I might just
and come back..
if I’ve calculated
it’s only another
two swims after
tesco’s until the pub
and if I can make it
I can make it
and the world
might just be
you know the phone calls we often get
the kind you either hang up or wind up
as soon as you hear their accented voice
you get a second to make your choice
but you must never respond in the way
they want for that would be surrender
to the full force of foreign telemarketers
who invade our privacy disturbing our
slumbers with unsolicited modulation
one called me just before tea last night
claiming hastily that he wasn’t selling
anything but wanted to ask me for my
opinions for a short consumer survey
and in that moment I decided to play
as I had nothing better to do but wait
for tea and flex my wit and repartee
at the expense of some poor sod from
India who was only earning a crust
he started by asking if I was married
that’s not an opinion, that’s a fact
so I won’t answer as it’s irrelevant
right right ok I’m sorry he laughed
and asked another open ended question
you’ve done it again that’s fact not
an opinion you really should tell
your manager to rewrite them all
that’s when we started really talking
the mechanics of consumer survey
were cast aside as he told me of his
yearning to learn better English and
of the subjects he was studying in
college but I think that what engaged
his talkative good nature the most
was when I guessed that he was in
New Delhi and Punjabi was his native
tongue and we talked like old friends
the conversation continued comprising
of his inquisitive questioning and avid
attention to my articulated answers
which he absorbed like a month old
sponge left outside as the rain begins to
fall and I told him much of myself
and family and my life and he told me
of his but eventually he had to go
but now I know these callers are just
I’ve named my lady Stella
but I’ve yet to learn her
language so for now she
just sits in the corner until
its time to talk
I took her to meet a friend
that has a certain way with
ladies such as lovely Stella
and he made her scream in
exquisite pleasure leaving
me as the jealous one
I think it’s the way I touch
her neck as she’s rather
highly strung and fretful
one day I’m sure she’ll
accept my caress and
sing a song for me
I’m honoured this week to have been awarded the following certificate of perfection for this particular poem
I gratefully accept it and in so doing nominate Julian Javer aka Cyber Mushroom for an award
Botswana swelters and the Delta sighs
where Okavango meets hot desert sands.
Soaring high on rising thermals, eagles
effortlessly glide under azure skies;
lords of the air above sunkissed lands.
But far below on verdant flood plains
in the lush African Gardens of Eden,
that yield to salt by the suns attention,
where life survives by natures decree,
down here, a different predator reigns.
A troop of chacma baboons congregate
as the heat of day cools to sticky dusk.
Thirsty and wary, they approach water
but the dust and the dusk obscure much
and stragglers are unaware of their state.
The moment is seized by a young leopard,
perhaps this act was her rite of passing,
for although still cub, her body is full
and she leaps upon a lonely baboon
and kills it quickly before she is heard.
With ungainly gait from dragging the kill
she heads up the nearest tree, for safety
from the prying eyes of hungry hyenas
and makes ready to eat, until her meal
moves, plunging her world into confusion.
From the dead haven of blood-matted fur
a baby baboon drops by the leopard
who is unsure and bats it like a mouse
but maternal instinct gets the better
and an amazing scene is soon played out.
The leopard licks and cleans the baby ape
and snuggles it for warmth through the night
but simian balance is still unsteady
as the day old baboon falls from the tree
and each time the leopard fetches it back.
Daylight dawns and eagles queue for thermals
as the sun comes over the oasis.
The leopard, cub no more, fully fledged now
slinks away from the dead baby baboon
into the sweltering Okavango Delta.
This tale, the third in what seems to be evolving as my ‘Africa’ series, is again based on truth. Just google ‘Legadema’, the name of the leopard cub that inspired this piece. It really is quite incredible reading, and watching it as it actually happened is quite amazing.
His guitar already spoke
with sweet emotion as he
played with such passion
that I, already entranced,
closed my eyes and was
carried away by lilting
harmonies and melodic
chords that rippled my
senses with electric
such pleasure that if I
went deaf right there
I’d have thought I’d
died in silent hell.
I wrote this in response to a Friday night propmpt that I quite enjoy participating in, namely the Friday Flash 55 whereby you have to submit something, anything, whatever….but it can only be 55 words long..no more, no less..and it’s a bit harder than you think. Anyway, the above is what I came up with.
As a really spooky aside, and I guarantee you this is 100% true on my life and the life of everyone and everything I hold dear… as I was writing this I was listening to my favourite radio station, Planet Rock…and I suddenly found myself listening to a song by Sammy Hagar called ‘I Can’t Drive Fifty Five’.
Like my entry, make of that what you will 🙂
I’ve added a little more to The Eons of Eternity, including some incredible fractal artwork as illustration. Please click on the tab just above here to veiw the whole page as it currently stands. If you’d like to see more as it happens why not subscribe to the blog and you’ll automatically get to hear about it.
Thanks for reading anyway..hope you enjoy it.
first left then second right
visions we no longer visit
next left toward the light
are memories much more
happy imprints on retina maps
the satnavs of our past
but sometimes sadness perhaps
we cannot change what’s passed
look into my eyes friend
we can all map read
I’ve been where you have