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March 30, 2005

Sorry

I emerged this autumn morning
from the cavern of my head
where the hermit of my mind snores weeks away
his symphony of body noise
convinced me he's not dead
and here, dear friends, is what he'd like to say:

"Thank you for the comments
you've been kind enough to write
I am thrilled by every new one that comes through
but I've been a total slacko
and extremely impolite
by not responding similarly to you

A 'selfish bloody ingrate'
is perhaps a little tough
and words such as 'self-centred' wouldn't fit
but all of these apply to me
accurately enough
the best, perhaps, a 'thankless little shit'

'Take, take, take' has been my creed
with nothing in return,
I won't bore you with excuses, they're too lame
I will flagellate my buttocks
With a cane, until they burn
And bow my head toward the ground in shame

Wait on, you say, that last bit,
Is a little tongue-in cheekish
Is that some of your facetiousness we hear?
Well, um, yeah, would you believe me
If I started acting sheepish?
(But the apology is totally sincere)"

Alan Smith © 30 March 2005

Posted by alan at 10:40 AM | Comments (8)

March 28, 2005

Can't write this

Alan Smith March 2005

Today I thought
A general mind sort
Was what I needed most urgent.
Can I really focus?
No. Hocus pocus!!
Magically off on a tangent

Maybe I can pretend
Til up nearer the end
That life can go on as we knew
But wait on a minute
There's already a limit
On what I can and cannot do

But my blinkers hold firm
For most of the time
Their efficiency does them much credit
It's the cramps you see
That terrify me
Well there, take a look, now I've said it

No that's absolute pap
Some mindless crap
My horrors are all clearly known
The greatest of fears
Is that in a few years
I'll be nursing home bound ... all alone

A vegetable sprout
Nothing in nothing out
'cept hospital food and shite
With someone to read me
A book, or to feed me,
And a bed bath, once every night

I'm pretty unsmitten
By what I have written
It shows my depressive streak
A mile or so wide
Go on! Put it aside
Make the most of each day of each week

Let's face it.. I'm dumb
I'm more lucky than some
Who see nothing to harm them ahead
When their time comes
To get off their bums
They're divorced, or they're broke, or they're dead

So I'll plan trips to Old Blighty
Try to grab my wife's nightie
And pour out my feelings in rhyme
Shout for Swannies and Kings
Do a myriad of things
And maximise use of my time

Posted by alan at 11:31 AM | Comments (2)