Epilogue
Dear reader or do I talk to myself?
This is the end of another year, and
one more collection of prose poems
vignettes and lies. If we are lucky,
not stopped by wars, pest and death,
we might meet again next year.
I wish you goodbye and hope you’ll
come and see me again some time,
but please don’t slam the door when
you leave and please do not switch
off the light, as I have a great fear of
darkness…thank you.
Christmas Poem
Resentful elves
laugh behind Santa’s back
because he’s chubby
and looks like Elvis Priestly
on his last stage appearance.
Evil minded men
hate Santa’s long popularity
smile for camera,
but are beastly to Rudolph
when Santa eats, triple burgers.
Her Indoors
Closing time it’s midnight the barman is
tired and wants to go home, we the drinkers
are flushed, warm and in an upbeat mood.
we have solved the problems of this world
and a bit more, yes all good things must end
we have enjoyed each others company…
and now going to what we call home; often
a cold room untouched by kind hands, or
a home so perfectly in order that we would
rather sleep in the stable, if we had one.
When middle aged men talk, women are not
on the agenda, if mentioned it is with a half
smile, a burden we are willing to suffer for
a clean shirt and a buttered toast.
Cloud Nine
I see people’s faces on TV filled with rapture when
hearing rousing political or religious speeches, feel
a certain sense of envy. As an observer, ecstasy is
a mystery to me. I don’t care for its second face
though, the insistence of being right and willing to
commit act of violence in the name of an abstraction.
It’s been said:” it is better to believe in something
than in nothing.” The more I think of that sentence
the less sense it makes. Ok, I believe in equality and
justice, there is little of it, but I’m, no not so sure of
western type fairness anymore, as it is mostly given
those with money. I’d love to like to be able to jump
up and down- no, not in a bed, but in a town’s square,
amongst the people and hear a moving, soon to be
USA’s president, Hussein Obama kind of discourse.