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April 14, 2018

And from frigid lips

Comes a whimsical whimper.

A world is nothing but whimsy

And endless longings.

With notebooks on knees we write,

We write the endless treatise.

It is not I who christened it,

Then who christened the text ‘treatise’?

And what did I hence christen?

There is nothing that I’ve christened.

That which I christened was stole,

Stolen from under me: a cold night.

Cold nights bring forth daring,

And cunning disguises.

Cold nights we set alight dreams,

Dreams burn. We bid adieux.


Little to no recompense,

No recompense, from juvenile thieves.

I’d say his name, but it’s forgot,

Some never forget, and gain nothing.

My young life, in disarray,

So I went out searching.

A soulless, gut wrenching search,

A soul destroying search: I wanted nothing.

I knew not what I wanted,

I wanted that which was lost.


The thief: never punished,

A petty theft. A lost love.

Always, a well deserving love,

Always faithful …. covered in powder.

After a theft the police have their way,

And their say. Sentimental worth means little.

Oh, the thief is young. I see him in chains,

Cold bars surround him. We look, and prod.

The prison. The zoo. They’re all animals,

Photograph, standing before him.


Were there co-conspirators?

Criminals travel in numbers.

Look the fiend up,

Call him. Mock him.

Break the law tenfold,

What I’ve never done.

Enjoy yourself. For I ne’er shall,

Have a laugh. They’re onto you.

What did you do to destroy?

Destroy so thoroughly.

You know not the intricate workings,

Not intricate at all: intricate for a fool.


I care not for retribution,

I wish for that which was mine.

Which will never be, never again,

To see your face ….

What would I do with this?

I need not know your features.

It rained hard. Your hair was precious,

In good condition’. Alas!

You killed a faithful warrior,

Only once did harm find his way.

And this amused,

A fool in golfing leathers.

Come running with threats and other,

Little harm, little damage.

Yes, dear one. You’d have it washed away quick,

You who’d never known such pleasure.


And later, I would err,

Twice in second succession.

Don’t come to her aid,

Lesson learned.

Erring is always in aiding,

Only. A strange path.

I knew my way well,

North to south. North again.

And, crash! We let her off,

She went, smiling, on her way.

Not understanding, but smiling,

And I went, with my time intact.


Cash poor, I went. The difference, I know not,

Now, grimace. It was always far too much.

I remember an erring way, a thief,

Little damage to the stolen beast.

Thus he was named, for he was a beast,

Now I know another: she dissipates.

She is invisible on a stage,

She barely whispers.

He, mine, was heard from far off places,

Even in death, to his death bed, we heard him.


Tragedies bring on sorrow, so they say,

The happy thief, let out on bail.

All’s quiet in the jail house dungeon,

Lawyers make a raucous sound on arrival.

All is guilt but defensible in lawyers’ eyes,

Lawyers’ eyes and suits and ties.

Suits and ties against grey stained walls,

Oh for the new prison cell, friend.

Where lawyers feel free. Where lawyers spill beans,

You’ll be out of here in a jiff: sign the papers.


Police, lawyers, prisoners, thieves,

Giving away secrets …. on the lam.

Keep it quiet: in a safe house,

The car spluttered and broke: I ran.

I had no more to gain: back in the rain,

A cold prison bench would suit me well.

About now I’d accept defeat,

What a loathsome example of man.

Of child. You steal to onsell, but no,

It’s for kicks. We rack our brains.

Where to for the stolen few?

Follow the broke down? Let it die in peace.


And again, we let it go,

We let it go, and go blind.

For once dead, we’re nothing but blind,

Dead to the world’s endless noise.

But somehow, we see …. we hear nothing,

Hence, the banshees’ cries.

And again, lonesome, low down whimpers,

Of thieves: the poor man’s ruin.

Ending days by theft: beginning

With nothing at all in mind.

For the thief is never obliged,

In honour or in hardship.


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