Me again with a couple of offerings to kick off 2017. Halfway through, the first poem suddenly decided to turn into a birthday tribute for Gabe Brodetsky’s 63rd. The other is the third in a projected series of snapshots (think word picture Instagrams).
A New Year itches to begin.
We’ve sent the Old Year packing
with parties, chimes and festive din.
We’re ready to get cracking.
We’re up by twelve, a wee bit late.
We grab a bite for brekkie,
resist the urge to vegetate
because we’re feeling yechy.
For soon it’s time to cook again
sating hunger, quenching thirst.
To start, a flute of fine champagne
welcomes in January the 1st.
It marks a day of note for Gabe,
one more year our friend has aged.
but that’s all in Life’s cycle, babe.
His thirst for that is unassuaged.
So, here’s to Gabe and here’s to Clare.
500 k he’s clocked up.
Now he sits back in easy chair
unless my facts are cocked up.
Up here in Macc, it’s damp and grey
and I have got the snuffles.
Soon Trump accedes to my dismay
and countless feathers ruffles.
The people spoke and votes were cast,
though it’s tricky to be stoic.
I thought the Age of Reptiles past,
but here comes the Mesozoic!
Is Trump the darling bud of May?
Is Putin in his pocket?
Friends, carpe diem, seize the day
and Planet Earth? Don’t rock it!
III. It was like seeing the Evening Star,
a lone beacon in the firmament,
but this was not night sky,
but daylight and suburban pavement.
Resting on the autumnal debris of the quiet cul-de-sac,
a polished jewel glinted back the sun,
its brilliant, gleaming, untarnished sheen
demanding my attention.
“Look at me!”, it screamed.
Suddenly I’m aware the street is strewn
with tens of tiny metal canisters,
each blazing back the sun’s rays, dazzling
reflected sunlight as from snow crystals,
or shiny seaweed on a pebbled strand,
a dusting of Christmas glitter under the tree,
the lights of an outback settlement,
a hamlet snuggled on a hillside.
I’m hyperventilating on images.
I’m sky high, euphoric,
as butaned out as last night’s Bacchanalians
as I head off for the match.