Apropos sue's crab: sadly expired anon
dec 10th mmxiii
"all beasts are happy, for when they die,
their soules are soone dissov'd in elements"
Poetry of L. E. Ashton, 1926 - 2016
"all beasts are happy, for when they die,
their soules are soone dissov'd in elements"
Posted by Susannah Anderson at 12/10/2013 0 comments
Labels: absurdity, aging, destiny, expiration inevitability, expiring, insight, perishing
tharz no izms
nor no ortaz
handed darn frum wharebber
bein wurdz o whizdumb
atellin youse how t direck
n vex yore hexisthence
dat bares luckin at
nor no rulez neider drawin line
bout wotz wot n wotz nut
naw youz free t gratifie
yer owen sussposes
dey nebber thort on
n stop dis botherin yr napper
wid endless rashnull argymeantz
n luke darz plentyus ohriginal happensense
whar wot iz wot iz nebber twice
jest lissen up
cos thoos thissen
nut sumbuddy else out thar
swych twist o lojik splitz yer resolve
same az how izms hurds wurds t market
an yer ortaz fullathinkless tasks
pull thissen thgither
thoo iz hidentitie o wun
singular bein
do wot iz t be dun
no messin up
plain tiz an wellcum
cheer up ebrywun
tich seez aye t aye wid youse
gib m hell
aug mmxiii
Posted by Susannah Anderson at 9/08/2013 0 comments
Labels: filosofussy, oughts, Tich Backhouse
feet up enjoyin nix
no effort no advice
depends aint in it
jest lie back let irksome
must wave bye bye
muscles wunce taut past tense
why shape up
daisical duz it
afore me droopin eyez
white-crowned sparrer an younker
retrieve seeds let fall
by fumblebum chickadees
bickerin at feeder over haid
swych effort
calls fer doze . . .
wotz dis brazen sun
evades shiftless shadow
ruffles me stilliness
competes wid impertinent
heat fer equipose mine
wot comfit were aint
hey sum booby move me lounge chair
thinks i wurld dont care
tis hanomally o dotard yearz
wharz respeck?
move self arguably indoorz
fallz into wheelchair
. . . ZZzzzzz
july mmxiii
not lost found
in cross hairs
deja vue glimpses
what i lived
from through
no matter importance
then no reasoning ties
exceptions my eyes
open on passed not by
here culls of reflection
recollection rather as happens
another flashback
to my life being
nearly done how
exquisite these intents
thereby of now
in this parvue
summed-up fragments
connect thankful
twas what is i
am source of being
unfolds with sufficiency
i have lived
july mmxiii
Posted by Susannah Anderson at 8/23/2013 0 comments
Labels: aging, memories, remembering
Posted by Susannah Anderson at 8/21/2013 0 comments
Labels: aging, courage, good cheer
feeling tells what
whether mind accords
with uncertain why
weeping tears
let fall unbidden
be glad pity on
bended knees put aside
joyous arises approval
lent to sustain
through daunting doubt
oh shyly fond simple
smile marks brow
mellow eyes gazing
wonders at insight
how seen revealing
where understood
throws near and far
in focus still being
embraced immediately
altogether gathered
let go bye and bye
again may resume
while knowing nods
may mmxiii
Posted by Susannah Anderson at 8/19/2013 0 comments
Labels: how we feel, knowing
Oh should i lament
when lived to play outdoors
breathed content
apron-strings fell off
should i now with pen poised
deny what happened
may duly and let unruly
fast as young legs can carry me
backwards and fall
helplessly laughing
into glassworks' field
among wild headhigh grass
thronged with huge michaelmas daisies
turn beckon to my best pal
“gie us a hand up!”
wander together along familiar ditch
source of frogs and merriment
dare each other
leaping across bank to
slip and darn! one shoe wet
leave sock on rock to dry
days of youth yes animated with fun
and excruciatingly bygone
dwelling in some folds of aged brain
these still-eternal years
and i gathering wrinkles
instead of child's play
unbegrudged and yes as if erased
with catch in laugh no-one can hear
december's dying year mmxii
chest swells
lungs expand
receiving deep draught of air
which heart pumps
infusing blood with oxygen
nexus of felt rhythyms
inhale exhale
breathing reconciles body to self
how comforting this closeness
snug within
servicing vital need
ah tis grand
throb and pulsation
restorative
putting pain aside
where it belongs
suffering to be alive
one life and one destiny
ah me ah me
tis thou and i
dearest inspiration
together twain
both faithful
one indrawn breath
let out
first and last companion
nov mmxii
Posted by Susannah Anderson at 2/18/2013 0 comments
... sez tich
Whan yr flindered
hits rite whar y are
spring o feelin
gits t flowin clear
an bubblin up
az if suckin air
passions demand oh aye
mid joy an grief
weds pathos to ethos
ownin i am i afore itz me
birthrite inherent
each bairn t cherish
'n betimes larnin wurld wurkz utterwise
so tis yourn t let free
outta lap o void
as case we iz tolt
wid forebears o yore
frum well-bein were ticed
(course no witness were thar)
now tiz you az you are
eyes a-streamin
or raisin y voice hahaha
don matter
yer iz whar y shud be
widdin reach o yippee
oh yeah
july mmxii
tich backhouse, hiz poemz
Posted by Susannah Anderson at 2/15/2013 0 comments
Labels: Tich Backhouse
Happens
y' knowz that don' y'
nut ever'body
just becuz do
mos'ly those wid innardz
wot feels
wot feels th' goinz on
orl over
orl over selfsame
same az t'other
cherish t'other
happenz 'tween
snuck atween
cuddly th'githerness
aint orl
aint orl at all
stuck th'gither
meanz i iz you
an' you iz me
how treated
each other how self-respecktin
seez it wot i sez
two bodiez con-cum-mitted
large word for wotz meanin
four letterz or thereabouts
so i sez sotiz wid us
you 'n me
happens
happens mos' surely
an' dearlyodearly
wid both on us
wid you 'n' me
jan mmxi
Posted by Susannah Anderson at 2/13/2013 0 comments
Labels: companionship, love
From where we come
to where we go
blithe or careworn
all same fare
from here to there
to cry bloody tears
as if breathing's sin
to hang heads low
to weep deep within
has house caved in
to where we go
from where we come
home between homes
destiny's children
shuttled to and fro
is elsewhere home
or this our abode
nowhere's children
blown far abroad
on wind's highroad
thus we shall travel
thrall to who's will
elements kindred
as if to redress
our inimical role
we abide with wonders
no deals from fate
no questions no answers
is earth purloining
death's estate
aug mmvii
Posted by Susannah Anderson at 2/11/2013 0 comments
There's a downside to everything
not necessarily bad
our way of watching the clock
ticking off the seasons
the years like a handy roll of film in a camera
pictured spooling off or on
click click looksee looksee
that's how the present gets shaped
first closeup then distant
as we look over our shoulder
turning the yet-to-be into the once-was
forgetting what comes next is now
distinctions like Spring -Summer
are threaded by our feelings, our wishes thoughts
into daisy-chains to play with in fancy
this Spring that is now waxing into Summer
foretells a waning of the sunlit hours
turning Summer on its head
and with the downside we expect
travel fun holidays delights at the table meetings
but life is all one picture
unembraceable as that one picture
and the glimpses we get
startle us into recognizing
all seasons have their fling
july mmxii
Posted by Susannah Anderson at 2/09/2013 0 comments
Labels: seasons
They touched beaks
those cheeky chatty dee-dees
black mustachioed beggars
the two of them
affectionately on parting
and i
touched had to laugh
eskimos rubbing noses
intimation of sensibility
their legacy and ours
shared among folk of air land sea
as surely as
general booth's welcome into heaven
(i'd join the uproar
had i been there)
witness to fellow-feeling
embraces don't need sophistication
simplicity comes through
seen eye to eye
to caress
is blest
july 30 mmxii
Posted by Susannah Anderson at 2/07/2013 0 comments
Labels: chickadees, common ground, for book, love
When I breathe no more
good salty air of sea
or fresh breeze of stormcoming
lord of death's accounting tablet
let my name stink of earth
and tincture of flowers
with rain soaking this precious mantle
her covering and girdle my mother
for to her breast again i would return
july mmxii
Posted by Susannah Anderson at 2/05/2013 0 comments
Labels: death, dying, return to earth
Tich Backhouse; hiz say-so
hoo hoo hey thar lass
thoo looks rite toward n pleasin dis morn
i ha taken t thoo
mos liken goddess hebe
eben her o comely ankles
hoo dwelleth on cloud nine
sniff . . . watz up wit nose in air
most like common sort that carries on endless
nag nag nag bellyful o scorn
an grey hanks o hair t boot
sure tis allure o witchery den
cud ha sworn that swich grace n glamoor
o goodly thoo walks nut touchin groun
neck poised like jug on haid balancin
pearlz shamed be teeth fer brilliance
an cheekz abloom fresh peach fuzz
shakin f queenly haid eyen two lites o dawn sky peepin
glory bee i ha glimpsed nun be match o thine . . .
but stay tis contumely do i spy
angelic countenance shrewish wid distaste
az if swallered loathsome bolus stead o hambrosia
an dis rude finger accusin go ter ..ll
ize off mistook likely lass fer cupidz owen
fer sartin lucky iz tich thoo'd bin parfait scold
allus beyon reach marbelous statue hi-n-matey
yus ize gonzo no sonnets writ in bucolic tongue
me nose buried in froth o suds seekin dioneesus bottom
no posterity fer yrs unruly cept owen cheery sel
findin comfort in arms o blacksmit good ale
herez t u folks stay singular marrit t quiet life
Tich Backhouse, Nov. mmxii
Posted by Susannah Anderson at 2/03/2013 0 comments
Labels: Tich Backhouse