Thirty Two!!!!!

Good Lord!
It appears that 32 folk have visited this blog. I am delighted/ amazed/ completely made up etc etc.
I wonder if it just those dear souls led astray by the teasing promise of pre-molars and canines and the heady smell of amalgum (shaken, but not stirred) the distant whine of the drill as seductive as a train in the distance stuffed with promise and possibility? Maybe things will tail off now that they realise it is just some sad old plonker who writes the odd bit of duff poetry!

We'll see!

Anyway today's posting comes frmo more recent times and is a double bill....

Firstly:

A sonnet from 1998. A bumper year as I was pretty unsettled at that time and this always stirs at the sediment that seems to give birth to this kind of thing.

Shards

How the splinters pierce as moments shatter!
We limp, squirm on the shrapnel remaining;
We can’t select what will, will not matter,
Discarding some past events, retaining
Others. Inventing heroic futures,
Full of nobility and grace, where no
Stubborn waxy flags of tell tale sutures,
Show the place you’d much prefer not to show.
When cowardice, folly was you and yours
To slice through your better self; scar and maim
Limit possibilities; even scores
Between you and the others in the game.
Casting back to when the glass reflected
Was it really as you recollected?

Pete
April 1998


Secondly:
One for my mum.
An amazing lady and a true hero. Not one fo these false pretty boy/girl cosmetic, soundbite kids all spin and hair gel. A real star, like the stars, not something you notice or even value perhaps.... until they go out. Then isn't the night a dark place?



The Gospel According to Kath.

My mum’s my hero.
An embarrassing fact perhaps,
But I’m proud of it.

She taught me that grey is true.
The world is not black or white …
Not really.
The zealots would have you think so,
But it isn’t.
It is full of nuance.
At every turn there are so many maybes
That perplex the student of certainty and
Only serve to delight the
Student of grey.

People are trying to right and left of you.
Oh sure, it’s not always that impressive,
But it was their best after all,
and that
Really is … impressive.
Of course it is.

In a world of judgement and certainty
Mum posted a question mark for me.
Perhaps in the shadows of everyone’s attempt
There is nobility.
The quiet heroism of the average.

And she loved me,
In just that way.
She saw something heroic in the pale
Apology of potential I offered up.
I never felt like a disappointment to her.
To me, to them, but not to her.
And so like Matthew with his tainted abacus
I found my own gospel.

But it isn’t mine.
It’s hers.

The gospel according to Kath.


Long live the students of grey.. for they alone stand between us and disaster. If you are certain of anything you don;t know what you're talking about.... by definition!

Pete
November 2007