Deaf and Dumb

Nature has bestowed us with two ears by which we may listen; yet only one mouth by which we may speak. The world is filled with voices from mouths connected to ears that neither hear nor listen. Thus, if we are to be human, it is necessary that our ears may at times be shielded from the din; that we may listen to ourselves. A man who is deaf and dumb still has two ears and one mouth. A man who is deaf and dumb still has his own inner voice; he can hear no other, nor can he speak his mind. His voice remains his own. Those who may hear and speak are hardly deprived of the same privilege. Any, who are gifted of hearing and speech, that would deprive another of their tongue cease to be human. They have squandered the gift of their own ears, while they fill the ears of others with the vile poison of their tongues.

Put on the kettle

The first cold of November

The wind no longer at their backs

Strange light casts dun shadows

upon black asphalt seas

Puddled oil’s iridescent stains

survive the morning showers

like the rainbowed oyster’s shell

Beyond the gate to the park greens

Well worn path to the exposed heath

She speaks in the wind

He smiles and nods

The face that says

I can’t hear a bloody word

but I’ll pretend

to show that it still matters

She smiles and nods

The face that says

She knows, but it’s alright

Now lets go home and put on the kettle

Alan’s Psychedelic Redux

Windows still dark only reflect the glow

of the atom hearth mother

Fifty years later

still ambivalent marmalade

Keys mark the cadence for first watch

until echoes of china

Sugary Saturday morning memories

Kettle’s whistle clarion call

Then strings guide us to the waking skies

Grey of filtered light

as intoxication takes hold

Now seduced by the cruelty

that beckons from sizzling grease

and quiet murmurings in a familiar tongue

These cleanse the cerebral palate

while the table is also cleared

Retire to the sofa

and count every drop down the drain

Misanthrope

Solitude is wondrous,

the only reason I’m still sane

Because interaction with most people

is undeniably inane

Everyone wants something

Always something to be sold

and most of it is bullshit

Don’t believe what you are told

I want nothing from you

except to be left alone

Don’t tell me how the world is

I can learn this on my own

All Souls Day ’71

Cheap plastic, costume mask discarded

elastic band detached

amid paper sacks and candy wrappers

Still emitting the fume from the day

liberated from cellophane bondage

The shrieks they fade

Bats back to their cave

Witches flown away

All Souls Day

arrives wet and grey

On a ride to the pharmacy

we cracked the windows just enough

to make them whistle winter

Bags of surplus candies

overwhelm the shelves at half price

Now turn sour on the eyes

For the ride home the curtain falls early

as first snows swirl in headlights

When All Souls Day

arrived wet and grey

Retreat from the light

into the night

and ended

All Souls Day