Jelly beans

[Empathy .... or the lack of it!]
 
Red ones .... green ones ..... purple and blue

white ones .... black ones .... beans of all hue

My daughter loves em all

They're sweet .... crunchy .... soft and munchy

they melt in your mouth with such delight

They always go down without even a fight

She wants em!  There's no doubt

she shreds the packet ... total rout!

Which colour next? 

"That one!" says she

as she pounces and grabs

The funny thing is that

there's just one colour she disdains

It's the black ones  ... all aniseed and licorice

All her short life it's been the same

But today everything has changed

It's the black ones she wants

and the others are left

What a fickle thing she is.....

.... and so are we

We change our mind .... our desires ....

with never a thought about why.....

or how the change will affect others.

Oh would some power

the giftie gie us

to see ourselves

as other see us

or.....

Oh would some power

the giftie gie us

to feel another's heart

as we feel our own

© Ian Croft January 2019

The cat

It's probably someone's favourite pet
.. it's loved and cared for all the time.
The fur glistens.... and it probably purrs
like a vibrator on top speed

But as I passed it on the road
only the back legs were vibrating
The fur was messed and it was not pretty

I was glad that another driver had stopped
so that I wasn't faced with the awful choice
I could drive on.... knowing that the other guy
had to decide what to do

What to do when the dollar decides
if this bundle should live or die
Or even if that choice exists!

.... and I hope that when my time comes
and I'm a quivering bundle
of misery and pain
that the decision on my demise
is one of compassion.... to end the pain

© Ian Croft January 2019

Cruel friend

The past is a cruel friend
Each time I see a reminder of days long ago
I relive those moments....
I see the faces and I hear the voices
of family and friends that share that past.

But memories are a one way mirror...
I can see those people in my mind
but they can't see me
and they don't even know
that my thoughts are looking behind.

And as I relive those times in the past
my mind walks alongside me
and points out all my errors.
Why did you say that? Why didn't you say this?

Nothing in my past is safe
from the relentless inquisition
and I am ever bound to that excruciating rack
that tortures me me with "Why?"
Why did I do that?
What would today look like
if I had just.....

If I could turn off those memories, would I?
Without those memories, the past would lose its colour.... lose its taste.
Do I want a dull and lifeless past?

No..... for each memory which chastises me

there are ten memories that reward me
with the pleasure of a remembered voice
a feeling.... a sound....
Life has been so good

© Ian Croft January 2019

Memory

One of the great things
about being human
is being able to remember.
To remember those precious moments
that light up our life......
the moments we treasure....
We bring them out
and relive the pleasure
.... once again we feel the sensations
and the moment is ours.

Memory is what we are
... it's how we function
It's how we learn
and how we yearn....

But memory has a bad side too
It can be a curse for us
when we can't turn it off
When the nightmare won't leave
When pain is the memory
and it just won't stop....

© Ian Croft January 2019

Celebrate

Let's all celebrate!
Light up the barbie.... crack a tinnie!
It's a night to forget the day's problems
and the problems of the year....
Maybe I might even forget my fear!

.....  wait.... what did I just say?
Forget my fear?  What am I thinking of?
I have no fear! No fear at all....

Fear that I might remember the people
who have died so that I can celebrate.
The people who've been shot....
.... who've been raped and tortured
so that I can celebrate.... 

The families torn apart....
.... children stolen from their parents

.... Yes! Let's forget about all that stuff.
It all happened a long time ago....
It's nothing to do with me.... So let's celebrate!
I don't want to remember.....
.... that the beautiful land that I call my own
was stolen at gunpoint....

I don't want to remember. 

© Ian Croft January 2019

Digger 2 (see "Digging" Jan12)

The other day I talked with a friend who also digs
She pointed out that when we dig
The hole we leave behind
Gives us more room for love in our lives

I hope this is so
Cos I really need that

There are days where the digger
cries out in anguish as he digs
The hole can be such a lonely place
and the sounds echo around
and remind him that the hole
is empty apart from himself.

And as he digs,
the hole is getting deeper ....
and it's getting bigger....

He builds a roof over the hole
to stop the rain that's falling down.

People come to look at the digger
and they see the roof....
and think that all is fine.

They don't see the aching abyss
underneath that pretty roof. 

© Ian Croft January 2019

The Knight (an ode to men)

In every  one of we men

there lives a bold knight

For some your armor is black as the night

For others your armor is glistening white

Some have bright polished armor

that reflects the sun and stuns us with its beauty

and for others that armor is dull and colourless

For each of us the armor is the self that we present to the world

and our armor has been crafted during the journey we  live

For some the journey through life has made black armor

we have been hurt so badly ... and now we hide behind our dark armor

For another the white armor is our self righteousness

that we use as a shield to keep others away

and the polished armor shows the amazing work

that has gone into building their life .... they really try hard

Sometimes the armor glows .... and we all look on in awe

but for many the armor is dull and tired

and shows the weariness of the soul

They have struggled and fought and run out of fight

they only hope that they can last through the night

But as each of us rides our valiant charger

down the highway of life

There will always come a time where some dreadful event

will make us fall off our horse

.... fall to the ground in panic and pain

No longer do we ride high on our horse  .... protected from the world ...

..... and then we discover that our precious armor is too heavy!

What was once our protection has become our curse!

We can't get up!  ... we flop from side to side ..... no use .....

Like a turtle we try to roll over  ... so we can get our arms under

but that doesn't work either!  What now?

Eventually we will realise that we can't help ourselves ....

to get back on our feet we must have a helper

... who can remove our armor

Take off the armor ... take off the weight ....

.....and then we can stand!

And when we lose that weight

we realise that we didn't actually need the armor

Without that hard heavy shell we can fly through life

So who are you?  Have you had your fall yet? 

Is your armor off?   .... so that you're waiting to help

the next knight who  falls?

Or is your fall still in the future?

© Ian Croft January 2019