Elvis never left Vegas
Hello and welcome to my Blog.
The title of this week’s Blog is a song lyrics I wrote “Elvis never left Vegas” the words are my poem of the week on the website home page.
A mixed bag this week, but a bless up and some love included, to make the mix lighter.
Koi
Within it’s heart a metaphor.
Fish, Koi giants, swim in the palace pool.
Likewise self important Court officials,
Survey their own small pond.
Engraved by Nature
The mountains and fells gloved in whitely velvet snow,
Nature burin etched in black and white.
Each rock, crevice and scree in crisp relief,
The panorama clearly laid out to see by drivers on the road.
Cloud-tipped fells circling, valleys cupped at their feet.
When My Heart Belongs to You
When my heart belongs to you
O happy captive, I don’t want to be free.
It’s a place, I’m held,
Can’t you see?
That all desire to roam elsewhere,
Just leaves me!
If my heart belongs to you
Then in the world, there’s no safer keeping place.
It’s a refuge, warm and content,
Full of grace and loving light,
In your eyes, your face.
When my heart belongs to you
I know those truths that only lovers know.
A certainty of moments,
Continuing and free.
That acceptance lying,
Beyond any detail or life itself,
Would ever place my heart with thee.
Big Bless Up
(To the folk tune of “Waley Waley”)
Here’s a Big Bless up
And mi gentle star.
I see your smile though it were afar.
Although weez apart and some dusty miles,
I’s stand beside you
In all your trials.
A gentle shining star
I send wit love
For love can heal, light the way from above.
Although weez apart, some days empty and long,
Keeping these thoughts,
Mek your heart beat strong.
Brudda Big Bless up,
Frend n sista too.
Gold n silver I lack, this is all I can do.
Yet just tha thought, that someone cares,
Can ease this life,
All thorns n tares.
Here’s a Big Bless up
And mi gentle star.
I see your smile though it were afar.
Although weez apart and some dusty miles,
I’s stand beside you
In all your trials.
Bigfoot Rhyme Has Flown the Coop
Like a Bigfoot escaped into the wild, sometimes you wonder how it’s doing,
Is it fed and warm?
Lost travelers in books encounter it on turning a page
Glimpsed impressions, but they all say it was this or that.
I thought I knew the meaning: but someone read it out
And those who heard disagreed, then those who read differed too.
Don’t ask me to choose, I may have my favorites
But I defend all my children.
I was once accused of writing for my audience but could not answer:
For they rarely reveal just is” who” or” they”
Neither talking too, apart from the website spambots spammers.
At least it was not Viagra offers -
To verses lacking thrust and vigour?
I receive both Bigfoot’s blessing and curses too.
Some elevated words that fly and freely flow to pages
Others tap on the shell of the sleepy vehicle to rise and write,
Then sleep, before tapping again and again through the hours.
A pause comes after each collection of verses.
Like a litter released into the literary pool.
Foragers; to delight or make nuisance in the outliers.
Villages of scribblers, wannabees in novelist’s gatherings are disturbed
By this Bigfoot outsider at the window
He waits; ‘til at the most intensely arty moment of proclaiming
He farts and gurns his face, sticking out his tongue
– naughty boy!
Others invite them in and they do a little play, gamboling and looking around so sweetly innocent,
Then they eat all the cheese and leave.
Papa’s blessing on you mes enfants grands pieds; as you leave my humble garret –actually a semi-detached bungalow in a quiet residential street.
Flow out with the snows
On your missions to deflate the self-deluded and pompous.
Big foot fools to dare tell the truth.
Return in spring with skips of joy, to nest and breed,
The job done for another year.
What do you mean, saying control them, I cannot, besides.
Don’t ask me to choose, I may have my favorites
But I defend all my children.
That Brightening Glow
Worlds within us, what has and might have been.
And those we make to come
Step towards softly going on.
You’ll remind me of the song strumming,
Gently low and humming.
Love around us, see it flowing cross the street.
All the lovers that you meet,
Friends and children so.
Open to the force that stirs the grow,
That brightening glow.
You = all numbers and none
You are number three on my list.
Not for any intentional reason
Just that one and two came
Then you are three.
Don’t be disheartened at this event.
The list is in progress and soon
Adding four and five
You’ll be in the middle centre
Heart core slice.
Feeling better?
Sadly I’m one for lists and list making.
So soon six and seven come along
Then more and more
Each virgin white line
Despoiled and used.
But you’re still in the top entries
First to do.
I intend to cross you off as done first thing.
Well…I tried.
Lists and lines and numbers.
Making a list and you there
Companion in thought
Beside me.
There
Whether lines or none.
Number X or Y listed
Or not.
Present throughout
Always you win.
OK?
Pieces this week are taken from my collection “See you in the big time” 2011 also “Building an unseen line” 2012
Thank you all for reading, till the next Blog, keep well and safe.
Best wishes,
Louis
This Blog and all contents copyright Louis J. Casson 2016