The moment of Now

As I make my way
to this day’s work,
I pause,
as traffic is
brought
to an orderly cease,
by firm command
of traffic lights,
and gaze,
through other cars
- other, stationary cars,
cars with drivers
bored or impatient,
but all,
for the moment,
brought to a stillness
matched by the endless
patient grace
of the trees I see,
trees slowly turning
for an autumn
coming at measured pace,
a kaleidoscope
of changing, chaotic
colours, frozen
in this moment,
reflected in river
also, at this moment,
at peace,
with surface unbroken,
unmarred
e’en by rower’s
passage;
I gaze,
and spend an aeon
in this moment’s magic.

© Kayleen White, 2008

Autumn

They blend, those leaves
all different shades,
different hues dancing
with other colours,
and with light
and shade
and reflection
on the river
they overhang
in this autumn.

© Kayleen White, 2008

[Content Warning] Why?

Sorry: the formatting has been bloody lost when I added the Content Warning - on several posts, and I don't have the time to fix them all so I won't fix any.  

 He’s under pressure; she’s been thrown in at the deep end; they’ve got a lot on. Why? For what purpose? So CEOs in ivory towers can get their rocks off? So aggressive - mostly young - Go Getters can go and Be Got? So ratepayers can save their few cents of blood money? She needs a break; he’s wanting a Lifestyle Change; that company’s been sold so it’s founder can retire to The Good Life, away from all that was built, all that was So Good. Why? For what purpose? So World Bank Moguls, Politicians, and Economic Commentators, can croon their ideological chant Compete! Compete! Compete! to each other in round, like some Economic Rationalist version of Frère Jacque? Com-pete, com-pete, Com-pete, com-pete, A-gainst you, A-gainst you, Money for another, Money for another, Make me rich, Make me rich! They're having Some trouble With their work-life balance; She’s not coping; He’s depressed. Why? For what purpose? So those who cooperate, collaborate, communicate, are denied a place to contribute? So those who cannot study and learn and get degrees can not be a part of society? Or ... maybe so mindless ideologues can crush morale and make trivial accusations of others alleged imperfections, shortcomings, lack of balls, in the name of bureaucratic rules, minimising insurance risks, maximising shareholder profits? He’s under pressure; she’s been thrown in at the deep end; they’ve got a lot on. Why? For what purpose? © Kayleen White, 2008

[Content Warning] Challenge

Sorry: the formatting has been bloody lost when I added the Content Warning - on several posts, and I don't have the time to fix them all so I won't fix any.  

 Pressure, pressure; why isn’t this yet done? Why haven’t you included this? These are the joys of the efficient workplace the economically competitive. People reacting in anger brusqueness as a defence to others passing their stress down the line, these are the joys of the efficient workplace, the economically competitive business. No room for any who are not aggressive go-getting; no room for softer touches, human interaction, these are the joys of the efficient workplace, the economically competitive business. I hope the coins saved in someone’s pocket, the ego’s flattered by vain boasts of deadlines met, and targets exceeded, are worth the lives of those who do the work, for these are the joys of the efficient workplace, the economically competitive business. © Kayleen White, 2008

Cro-Magnon

Taller,
stronger,
more graceful
more perfect in every way
- or so we’re told,
were the Old Ones,
the ones now gone,
perfect,
yet not so absolute
in their perfection
that they could be here today.

What changed?
What happened
that they died out
leaving fragments of bone
a few chips of stone
here and there,
recognisable
only to skilled eye?
And what
of their low browed cousins
once thought bow legged
more lately
re-evaluated Neanderthal,
not so bad after all.

Are either still here?
Tall clever Cro-Magnon,
short powerful Neanderthal,
do their spirits live on
in us?
Do their genes
still carry their graces
their gifts
through to us
mere mortal
humans?
Homo sapiens sapiens
who have hung round for a while.

And what
of the future?
What changes to our species
have yet to come,
and for what reasons?
What changes,
or circumstances,
will lead us to make the next
great evolutionary leap,
and who will be left behind
for future creatures
to ponder over their bones?

© Kayleen White, 2008

[Content Warning] How Can You

Sorry: the formatting has been bloody lost when I added the Content Warning - on several posts, and I don't have the time to fix them all so I won't fix any.  

 I don’t understand how you could do that How can you possibly like that? I think such and such – don’t you? Oft times innocent enough, such seemingly simple sayings, such lack of comprehension, such emotional walls and manipulations, can have sinister import. Such sinister obtuseness, such mental unyielding, such these are the tools in trade of the bigot, the despot, the bully. From spectacular world destroying evil through social cliques who seek mutual support and reinforcement, to reactionary rants, all such evils begin thus: I don’t understand how you could do that How can you possibly like that? I think such and such – don’t you? © Kayleen White, 2008

The Idea Whose Time Has Not Yet Come

‘tis time
we hear
from time to time
for the next great thing
- the next idea
who’s time has come
or, mayhap,
not a thing,
but a one,
a person,
poised and ready,
prepared and polished
- tho’ maybe not
so sure of that.
But what,
pray tell,
of the idea,
grand and glorious,
or the one,
studied and learned,
whose time has not yet come?

Do such
wait, and then
fade into eternal nothingness?
Seems such a waste
- and does not sit right
with the idea of
matching time
and thing.
Maybe
the greats
cycle in and out,
taking a peek,
and dancing off
to play some other where
till time and
thing are both
right.
Maybe it’s not
so innocent;
maybe
the ideas come
down from above,
thrusting,
striving,
trying,
seeking
a way,
a place,
a one, a person,
through which to be born.
Maybe such things
even try
many doors
many places
all at the same time
and the one
we think the lucky
One
was indeed,
the lucky one.
Maybe
the one
seems so
perfect, so
One-ish
because of past
trials
travails
troubles:
maybe their
time
is a fitting
and justly deserved
climax
to past
oblivions.

So ...
pray tell,
what
of the idea,
or the one,
whose time has not yet come?

© Kayleen White, 2008