Ok I am pushing out a new idea here. I wrote a load of poems in Cuba and I am going to put them together with some nice pretty pictures and put them together in an eBook. Hope to then have that here on the site for one and all to purchase??? Is that possible? Would somone pay .99c for 20 poems and pictures written by me? Who knows..but there is only on way to find out.
This post is a little random today. I include it because my sister Ellen quoted me a poem I wrote, which she sent back to me last week when I was feeling down. I was really touched by this and it cheered me up no end. The essence of the poem is that life is a mess, turns out in a way you never considered possible, but also that no matter what happens you have to stay positive and look at the bright side. We all have a dance to dance and a reason
There comes a time in everyone’s life when they feel like they want their opinions to be heard. When this moment comes to you beware – you could be scooping up dog poo with your hand covered in a blue plastic bag when it hits you. It could be as you are toweling your saggy pallid torso after a short cool shower on a hot Autumnal day that the light clicks on in your twisted brain. It could hit you as you are parking someone else’s car between a Porsche and a Ferarri. When you get this feeling…this “of course people would love to know about my journey into Gnostic mysticism
On the train together
Me and you
My sweet daemon
Heading to a distant land
I have a pain in my ring. I suppose it could be construed as frustration. I am out of sorts and I can’t really put my finger on it. Well, that’s a bit of a porkie pie, I am angry at a few things. In the past at this stage I would be in the boozer telling all and sundry what I felt. But I won’t give myself the chance to get pissed. So I just try to deal with things as best I can and move on. So what’s eating the Sober Paddy?
The first is
In Spain they have a saying which goes along the lines of this – “Do not mind how your past has been, because the dance you have danced is yours and no one can take that from you.” It sounds a lot sexier and more meaningful in the native tongue, especially if it is spoken to you by some flirtatious guapa’s, in sultry midnight Madrid, in broken Englisz, with their big brown buggly eyes imploring you to understand this way of being.