the missing glue
  Step right up to a conversation  
Something has to progress., sooner or later
      before the world runs out of patience ,
goes all separate ways    
Destination  Nostalgic days when we  remember vaguely
so little of so much
sights and sounds and touch  

Intimacy the missing glue
Budgies looking in the mirror See outsides clearer
 But others hold it to our selves
Makes it harder to ignore
we live only if we choose to    
Mostly we refuse to

Looking to exterior alteriors To enthuse
We gain whilst we actually lose
and then the blame is not for god
or other's footsteps trod but ours and ours alone
A dog with a bone but no one to play with
waiting for the day this part becomes whole  I dont want much - I just want it all
someone to share it with another budgie perhaps x  Scott

On a lighter note    maybe I'll romance you in a boat
with a scarf and some pretty pretty notes
spin a web to draw you close   and a poem floating on the frame
they dance on to throw caution to the solitary winds and invite you in to somewhere real Be someones in a somewhere  . . . .  you know?
---------------------------------------------
S.woodhouse 2016

- the anti heroe's freak flag
.... Ulimately a success story for failures...... The EMPEROR in his new clothes unaware of his naked form on display .... as if,in a dream, about to make the "I have a dream" speech for the ages to the whole world, with a blank canvas his mind, no words to save him and a robe of denial shielding his fragile ego from the unrecoverable vulnerability to be revealed to all.... safe in this bubble he rambles about floating air filled spheres blown about on the breath of whispering gossips, always happy for others to take the fall under the intent gaze of those enjoying the luxury of looking out from within, in orbits around the centre of attention they happily are not ..... the irony in the multitudes gathered AND not one is ACTually present. 

So if a tall man falls from the dizzy heights of ego in a forest of gawking voyeurs swaying in the breeze does he really fall at all?

I notice one man stands to the side of the rabble making his own observations upon mine - made to unravel of the very nature of it's mystery , and the philiosophical ramifications that might ensue clapping with one hand .
You strain to hear its tune to answer a riddle of the ages unmatched by mind of man as yet but you are waking and its fading memory, dissolving with shards of light that merge to forget the shadow of night, a brilliant day bleaching the lessons to be learnt shiny clean. Pages and pages of nothing no pictures nor words upon this book the legacy of man..... 

Mother looks on the scene ..... un phased encouraged by the dependable and ever returning rays because she aint about to lose to some L O S E R least not today



Sept 2013 S.Woodhouse - Lose -(c) w & M S.W 1996)