Abhean's Verses - 2. April 8 through April 14

April 8

Alien Land

This morning

I overslept my alarm

to wake in an unfamiliar world

where domineering power was preferred to free thought,

and millions of identical drones

painted whitewash over

everything.

April 9

Short Story

Once the sky

winked its blue eye

and thereby

stopped the smart

that stings my heart

when we part;

shadows skewed

my attitude

and I brood

and I hope

we might not mope

but elope,

you and me

in harmony

to be free.

April 10

Recipe

Small, round onions, chopped fine,

sharp enough to bring on tears;

and garlic, cored and minced,

redolent of midsummer;

the last of October’s carrots, cellared long,

but still the color celebrating maples,

sliced and quartered;

Plus parsnips, cut in chunks,

rudely removed from their winter beds

yet still sweet;

All sauteed together long enough to soften,

and enter into conversation with one another;

before brick-red garam masala and turmeric, deep yellow like sunset,

arrive to prepare the way for lentils;

mixed black, brown and pale, like the world itself,

ready to drink deep of stock and September’s tomatoes

as they simmer together

in rehearsal;

to sing their psalms of plenty and contentment

in thanksgiving.

April 11

Reflections on a Short Gospel

Jesus wept

for his friend Lazarus,

dead three days, laid in a stone-cold tomb,

while those who loved him gathered at the grave, mourning

that no miracle had come to cure,

nor voice singing new songs

to raise love.

Yet those tears

flooded their world and ours;

for who weeps for those dead at our hands,

from our wars and wrangling, our greed and avarice;

and who can raise these from the rubble

or their hospital beds

but ourselves?

April 12

A Lauranelle in Protest

We’ll scramble to be shielded from the storm

as every day brings lawlessness and spite;

incompetence and chaos are the norm

and amplify our trouble and our plight

which every day seem worse than what before

gave everyone a reason to take fright.

Today brings fresher scandals by the score

of foolishness or duty’s sad neglect,

each saddens and discourages the more

when power and malignity connect

to injure innocents just as they please

in satisfying appetites unchecked.

Were we not told to care for such as these

our neighbors as ourselves, yes that’s the rule -

defending them from hatred’s designees?

The tempest of stupidity is cruel,

yet we unmindful of its winds must fight

with strength redoubled, so to win the duel

so when the lightnings flash and storm-clouds break

and everything we know begins to shake,

incompetence and chaos are the norm;

we’ll scramble to be shielded from the storm.

April 13

Early Planting

I’ll plant my peas in April sun

that comes so fast, I’m on the run

to get it done before the cloud

crowds out the blue and spoils the fun.

Beneath the greying skies, I’m bowed

and concentrating, beetle-browed,

upon the soil which soon may see

my seedling standing green and proud.

I’ll not just leave things there to be,

but scatter seeds yet dear to me,

some early lettuce and some chard

will suit new spinach to a tee.

Now when the skies are spangle-starred

that’s when the frost comes thick and hard,

yet, like us, seedlings, every one,

sleep underneath warm blankets’ guard.

April 14

A New Folk Song

Ain’t it a pity

the day isn’t pretty;

it’s grey and it’s gritty

beneath the fine rain?

Harsh winds will bite us

as we through detritus

will trudge infinitus

despite the heart’s pain.

Sweet montanaro,

our parting is sorrow

I can’t face tomorrow,

don’t get on the train;

Don’t just dismiss me

or let’s-reminisce-me

just shut up and kiss me

for I must remain.