All poetry, writing, and paintings on this blog are my own unless otherwise stated, and are not to be copied without my consent, or at least give me credit.







Social justice is the only justice.







Monday, February 7, 2011

There is only one person in the entire world who will understand this poem.

Met at the Kacho on a Friday night
Nineteen years in the making
Escargot on a hotel balcony
A birthday celebration minus a forgotten year
Ham cooked in beer a Ray of light
With desert no Les
Cross the river to join the dance
Punch the piano player
Plastic flowers displayed Artlessly
Dinner guests go around
The chilli air is rock hard
Another bowl will be fine
Fond memories fourteen times four
Carrots pretend to be roses
Silence as lamb is to be served
Tommy does not come knocking
Malodorous Sunday brunch
 The bathroom door was Jimmied
Distance separated after leaving
The bond refused to break
A friendship renewed with scotch
A conversation never ended
A connection solidified
Twenty five years of smiles