Kindness and Sugar.

How can I compare with Sylvia Plath?
Even taking my life, it will not do.
My poems, by comparison, are naff
and, simply, not able to affect you.

Memorised, she recites to me the verse.
Moved, as the unhappiness emerges,
through the talk of kindness and sugar first.
Sensitive tears as the feeling surges.

And me, well, I acknowledge true greatness.
Poetry, with its personal meaning.
Recognised by readers, the true sadness.
For her unsaveable nature, grieving.

Poems, by me, do not reach that distress.
Saving my life with sugar and kindness?

Divine Comedy.

Distinct description, ‘Divine Comedy’.
As if the jokes have a heavenly source.
Rich ridicule may define destiny
Creation of celestial resource.

Remedy serious ills and setbacks.
Turnaround of events and personnel.
Lessens force, or surprises, of impacts
Consequence, end up saying “just as well”.

May be delight of Greeks as Gods, laughing
at plight of mere mortals and their striving.
Misunderstanding; trusting, mistrusting,
as Love takes roundabout routes arriving.

Whole picture unfolded, needs time to see.
Contained within the Divine Comedy.

Solipsist Intruded Upon.

Other peoples’ lives are an intrusion
upon my life and my solipsism.
Can hardly believe the disillusion,
having to manipulate the schism.

Perhaps more at home with misogyny.
Then there’s a sexual explanation.
But, all the presences’ coming at me
do not exist in grand isolation,

but due to their relationship to me.
As though they are satellites in orbit,
some of which crash into my gravity.
But, mostly, space debris. Can ignore it.

If it all existing, inanimate.
I’m the one pure. The rest, contaminant.

Solipsism.

‘ Don’t really understand Solipsism.
That I can prove for myself, I exist,
but for all others, no such decision
proveable. Just the sight of, to enlist.

Or the sound, or touch. Even smell, or taste.
But they are my senses, proving that me.
Still, it’s strange, need reflection for own face,
whilst do see others’ ordinarily.

But, what are they in this philosophy?
Could be some form, intellectually,
robotic, or part, like pornography.
Not, for sure, to the same extent as me.

Narcissistic, of course. Hence the selfie.
But, image not prove existence to me.

Street Life.

Feel am on the verge of a hostile place.
Some passers-by’ appearance seems fiercesome.
Look at me as though they’re filled with distaste.
And for landing a blow, are quite near one.

Go passed, speedily, missing me late on.
Main demeanour changed to ignoring me.
May be wished of me … but not … ‘woe begone’.
Street life in a hurry, typically.

Some have malevolence near the surface.
That seems so from the facial expressions.
Goodwill, friendly …. a dearth, not a surfeit.
But best not assumption on impressions.

Still, not much spreading smiles any time soon.
More likely need UN and Ban Ki Moon.

Meeting the Luminaries.

Try to get through the preliminaries.
The early rituals to be in place,
for the meeting with the luminaries.
Hear them speak, and question them, face to face.

I will have to show as presentable
and, of course, be properly respectful.
Mind, not exhibit as lamentable.
And, work on preparation, integral.

Then, hopefully, they will give me insights.
Kindly, gather me and guide my senses.
Understand the way of the breeze with kites.
Find that moved further afield, the fences.

The brilliant, white light to greet. Disrupt.
So, with their wisdom, my soul gets freed up.

Hyperon Proteron.

To me, all greek, hyperon proteron.
A malapropism, it’s not, I’d say.
That’s when slight word sound change, gets meaning wrong.
This more like tomorrow before today.

Backward step might turn into step backward.
And then, generosity of spirit,
spirit of generosity. Forward
or back, is a slight difference in it.

But other changes may be greater, more.
Changes other beyond what simply seen.
Alters emphasis. May adjust the core.
Front to back, back to front, says what I mean.

Night and Day. Day and Night. There, in the song,
example of hyperon proteron.

Pretty Good.

I can’t say it is the best it could be.
That state probably imaginary.
But, better than bout of dysentery,
or, nothing as far as the eye can see. 

Those, too extreme on how bad it could be.
And to this, should not show antipathy.
To get here taken near eternity.
And, there’s more to come inevitably.

So, regard it as being pretty good.
Here and now. Not in war-torn neighbourhood.
Where can think, even if not understood.
And, sometimes things done for the public good.

So, be more cheerful. I know that I should.
After all, right now, it is pretty good.

Doolally.

Maybe it’s about going doolally.
The focus, and unsuccessful efforts.
Perhaps too big a burden to carry.
There’s no place back to where I can revert.

Am I living in a fool’s paradise?
Have I let my mind be delusional?
It’s very difficult to be precise.
Floating on this mattress which broke my fall.

I have kept buoyant using the construct.
Carried on with living and enjoying.
But could be same effect as drink and drugs.
A fool’s errand that really employing.

In my little way, imaginary.
Is that enough to think I’m doolally.

Incongruous.

It seems obvious, that incongruous.
I would have thought near to impossible.
In the run of things it’s innocuous
‘though it is also incomparable.

Unexpected that so compatible.
That, when together, both amiable.
Relationship indefatigable.
To each other, not alien at all.

There is, of course, the species difference.
But need not give that undue prominence.
If you thought ‘some love there’ the inference,
you would be correct in all innocence.

I accommodate my dog in her ways.
Whilst both around, mutual love always.