POEM OF THE MONTH
“Let’s Play Marbles”.
We live in the Pain World
and try to have fun
in our little way,
don’t we?
ADAPT! is the new key word
as I turn 80
and start to dodder.
Student bar-girls,
wee poems
who’ve never read a poem,
gawp at my pins –
You’re the reason I’m happy.
Big or small,
blue, green or indifferent,
I FRAME my thoughts in poems.
I.m. Dirk De Brouwer.
Nature also works
with secrets – dark powers
that cannot be explained.
The love of angels
resembles that of children.
It knows no limits.
Hugo, I got your healing
love message from Prague.
It made a huge difference.
Rome was not built
in a day, yet it vanished
overnight.
When I look at her
all I see is a field
of spring flowers.
And TEA.
Tap in to the Power
that is Yours. Reach down
into your own deep roots.
Must I really use my BRAINS
to decide if I’m going to kiss you?
Isn’t common sense enough?
Some half-starved chicks
look at me as if
they’d never seen a man before.
I drink to Veerle and her girlfriend
on their ONE free day in the year.
‘To love’ and ‘to be in love’
are options for normal, sensible folk.
Beyond that is obsession –
and punishment with Blindness.
Here comes the ambulance –
to the very heart
of our peaceful garden.
Cool session with Gals.
“Stick your chest out!”
ELS tells me.
“He hasn’t got one,”
SELENA quickly answers.
What YOU know
to be true for yourself
is what matters. Follow it!
Especially if it works.
Step by step through the day,
unhurried, untouched,
I pat the empty wine-cask of my belly.
The unanswered and the unsung
are the grandparents of Ignorance.
Rainy night. Maria
goes up, her husband down.
He’s reading RICHIE!
Had a tasty big round
almond biscuit, to make up
for the ca-ca.
DIRK must have died
for some reason. You can see
from the photo he’s pleased.
I’d better say a few nembutsus
before my luck runs out completely.
MARCUS CUMBERLEGE
Bruges Free City Poet