Archive for November 13th, 2007

13
Nov
07

Times Move On.

tree-of-life-with-black-background-lighted-ed.jpg

A saucy tale; a story of grief.
Revenge, or love, all others forsaking.
Great granddad swam the barrier reef;
Aunt Jill was talented at lace-making.

Pearls of wisdom, but time’s a thief.
Checking the facts is painstaking.
Human life is often brief,
filled with pain, often heart-breaking.

Traditions die and customs wane
if no-one bothers to document
the details; set out to retain
the facts on how lives past were spent.

Some folk have been meticulous,
recording every event and fact.
Monks and scientists, most obvious,
and Pepys tried hard to be exact.

With technology more advanced today,
it’s so easy to record and read
what others are doing far away
in lands with different culture and creed.

To learn of events across the world
as they happen, beamed by satellite.
The horrors and the joys unfurled.
It’s difficult to avoid becoming trite.

Families with a genealogical bent,
can search the world for relatives lost,
or record the most important event
without worry or unnecessary cost.

©DF2007

Photograph: Tree of life: KimmiKat

13
Nov
07

Happy Birthday

Goodbye last year, and hello new!
Another year older, sad but true.
But who knows what you’ll be able to achieve
with skills and strengths in which you believe.
The future is yours; mould it like clay;
be it through work, or the way that you play.

Some work hard and don’t rest enough.
Some work and play to extremes; they’re tough;
Or so they think, until the years spinning  fast
suddenly reveal a  shadowy  cast.
Work hard, and play, but balance well,
and remember the future you cannot foretell.

Have fun  today, and enjoy the love
that surrounds you here, and from above.
For today is special, and the reason is clear,
you are special, and to us, so very dear.
Happy birthday  today. May your wishes come true;
On this earmarked day, we’ll be thinking of you.

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13
Nov
07

Omens

Be still Cassandra.
Waste not your breath
for man is deaf, and fears little
the ravings of a mad woman.

No, mankind respects only his own
astute judgement, guided by the planets;
those still distant rocks of wisdom,
callously portuning earth’s fortune,
but bearing no burden of solace.

Cry Cassandra.
Wake Apollo from his gracious slumbers;
he who stole your precious gift,
and besmirched your reputation;
cursing all mortals for love spurned.

Rise Apollo, ring earth in golden light and cast aside
your grievance; for man needs guidance,
from those that know.
He strives for enlightenment- a tell-tale sign;
a premonition, some advance warning.
He understands little and believes even less
of the scientific evidence all can see.
Cassandra’s breath, goassamer light
brushes the earth’s stormy surface.
Humanity does not feel, hear, or see.
He is out of tune with his natural world,
oblivious to the new songs.
Yet inately he fears.

Come Apollo. Play fair by mortals.
Loose Cassandra’s tongue, an omen to bequeath
and let these poor creatures be warned.

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13
Nov
07

Redefining Heroes

 

In myths and legends old and new,

Our valiant heroes and heroines pursue

and cleanse all evil across the globe,

replacing and building a saintlier robe.

 

They never rest and they are never still.

All jobs can wait; passions they kill.

The world awaits with cowardly breath.

Liberation or a gruesome death?

 

Heroes or heroines, no matter the gender

Each one is the earth’s supreme defender.

Always ready, superfit and well

Migrainous heroes wouldn’t sell!

 

 

Ever heard a quiet, murmured excuse?

Thought not! It would be a noose;

Hanging a tale before the right end.

Not a clever commercial trend.

 

In the interest of fantasy, a means of escape;

Encouraging roles for society to ape,

 heroes are perfect, mind, body and soul;

Antithesis of real folk in their everyday role.

 

For millions of heroes exist in our midst

Plagued by migraine, unfairly kissed

by it’s ruthless and arbitrary cruel censorship

Each trying to loosen it’s restrictive grip.

 

They are unsung heroes, who do as they must.

When Migraine visits they have to adjust

When light is too light and noise is too loud

These heroes are enveloped in an evil black cloud.

 

No matter, it’s school, or there’s work to be done

It’s your birthday today. Aren’t you supposed to have fun?

No matter that dinner must be ready by seven.

The boss and his wife expect gourmet heaven.

 

The dog is sick and your son thinks he’s dying.

The phone won’t stop ringing; baby is crying.

You feel faint and unsteady; your head will explode.

But you know it’s more likely your world will implode.

 

Unrecognised champions, who work on and resist

the urge to give up, though the migraines persist.

Despite all the thumping, piercing and throbs

the migraine sufferer must get through their jobs.

 

Heroes for working; for coping with pain.

Heroes for persisting and trying to explain

to the rest of the world, how it changes your life;

How bad it can feel being stabbed by a knife.

 

In Fantasyland super-heroes are cool,

 In the real world life is restrictive and cruel,

if you cannot shake off, extinguish this curse,

that turns ordinary, everyday life in reverse.

 

 

© 2007 DF

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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