Life Preserved in Word

knock on the old block aid first chipped from a tree to see saw mill lumber jack pine for me swiftly uphill of hope to sea view can’t see so spurred on to belt up scale a tree at top of the day time look and sea side of slope is the sun of a blocking tree a big black eye in scenery topple over to bottom and free bee from hive to wax to ski downhill propelled by gravity Yippee! Smack! knock on the old block….. © David Girard 26/10/19

static flowing ebbing growing obtuse direct absorb reflect light imploding colour exploding prism shatter crystal matter fissure shard acute unmarred deflect projectile hurtle past setting sun exposing all millions of tiny fragments aglint intimation of our mortality lay broken as one in gentle repose © David Girard 24/10/19

five syllables long then two syllables longer five syllables wide I need seventeen but I can find only twelve what line do I skip? I am unruly and hate to count syllables if only a few I count better now and syllabify with ease can’t grasp Japanese © David Girard 21/10/19

Along came some children directly related to me who would often play for hours in the family tree. People say they look like mom or maybe dad or one of their grandmas or perhaps a grandad or take after cousins, aunts or uncles you can easy see because they’re all hanging out in the family tree. They seem mostly happy and seldom sad the family tree has come to be their outdoor pad. “Listen up, it’s supper time so c’mon in to wash up and eat “ and soon they serenade us with the pitter-patter of ten little feet. Some years later along came more children related to me itching to climb up and play in the family tree. Some say they look like mom or maybe dad or one of the grandmas or perhaps a grandad. They seem mostly happy and seldom sad having the time of their lives are the wee lassies and lads. I hear the pitter-patter of the children’s little feet. “Heh where’s grandpa? This is where we’re supposed to meet.” ...

Dark places, dark places buried deep within me faces in places that are too dark to see. There are spaces in the dark places where I often hide inside a façade of thick hide that exudes confidence and pride. It must be difficult to get in past my skin thick and hard because I struggle to get out into my own backyard. If you respect my dark places genuine I’d be able to expose the dark places inside of me. Darkness is mostly perceived in a negative light though it has no choice and can’t put up a fight. Inside the dark places every once in a while I get a glimpse of familiar eyes and a toothy smile Without dark places light would be in a dim situation of little contrast resulting in sleep deprivation. My dark places may be a therapeutic place to go for solace, resolution and enlightenment to grow. Beware of dark places I can’t stay too long or soon I’ll be singing the tune of “the therapist song.” ...

Sometimes I need to be bad to have a good idea where normal is. Sometimes it’s not a bad idea to be good to know where normal is. On a good day I normally fall somewhere between good and bad and on a bad day somewhere between bad and good. I don’t feel so bad when I’m good but sometimes I feel so damn good when I’m bad! © David Girard 09/10/19