All Roads

Posted on July 28, 2020 by admin

 

All roads lead into Rome

ALL ROADS

 H. W. Bryce

 

After Robert Frost, The Road Not Taken

 

All roads, they say, lead into Rome.

What if I took Road A, so greened?

Long I planned and and prayed, shalom,

And what if I never left my home?

Would I in life be high esteemed?

 

What if Road B should I roam,

No plan and nothing else to contravene,

Should I travel life without a home?          

Should I write a life-guide tome?

Such a dare I dare not dare, I deemed.

 

In hopes of Kubla’s pleasure dome,

I pondered plans from A to zed and leaned

Toward uncharted ways to roam.

What if I found a home in Rome?

What if from if I then was weaned?

 

If truth be told from out the gloam

From age with wisdom wisely gleaned,

The what Ifs are but an old mug’s game,

And deep at heart they’re all the same.

Rome can wait, I’ll till the world’s rich loam.

 

— —

Robert Frost’s famous poem title has been oft mangled, including by me on Friday, but that was deliberate.
Too many people took the first two words of the real title, “The Road,” and remembered the penultimate word of the penultimate line in the poem “traveled”. (original US spelling)
This produced titles like The Road Less Traveled, with variations such as the path less travelled.
I was reading a book of American poets when I rediscovered the real poem.
That took me to the site of an erudite scholar discussing diffuculties with the poem itself, and with Frost’s own difficulties with his friend and hiking pal Edward Thomas. Thomas apparently didn’t “get” the poem, or that Frost had built in a bit of joke on his pal.

So, after writing a couple of Note Poems, “The Path Less Taken,” posted last Friday on my “Chasing a Butterfly with Ann” page on Facebook, and one other, not being published, here is my “take” on Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken.”

 

— —

 

Image by freewouldbegood from Pixabay

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But I’m Not Bitter

Posted on July 20, 2020 by admin

 

BUT I’M NOT BITTER

H. W. Bryce

In response to Renee Drummond-Brown’s “Allow Me to Introduce Me to You”

You reject me, you put me down,
You sneer at my part of town,
You segregate me, you choke my man,
Why you even refuse to call me ma’am.
But I’m not bitter.

You set the rules, you break the rules,
You maneuver me /to fall between two stools;
You even set me up to fail,
You refuse to make my bail.
But I’m not bitter.

You rape my children, you kill my man,
You choke my charity, you run a scam,
You tell me I’m not worthy, my life’s a fright,
You refuse to ever treat me right.
But I’m not bitter.

You tell me to go back from where I came.
But I was born here, we’re just the same;
You shout at me, you shout me down,
You treat me like a craven clown.
But I’m not bitter.

Where does your hate come from?
You treat everybody as if we’re dumb.
I can’t understand your attitude,
You’re spoiling everybody’s mood
But I’m not bitter.

One day you’ll have to reckon,
One day when death will beckon,
You, my friend, will choke on bitter,
And cry out for your baby sitter.
But I won’t be bitter.

Image by truthseeker08 from Pixabay

Brought to you by Chasing a Butterfly
Newly re-issued on Amazon
https://www.amazon.ca/s? Click:
k=chasing+a+butterfly+by+hw+bryce&ref=nb_sb_noss

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Aching for a hug

Posted on July 13, 2020 by admin

 

Aching for a hug

ACHING FOR A HUG

 

H. W. Bryce

 

My arms are aching for a hug,

My heart is yearning   for my drug—

That’s you, my love, and you my friend,

And you and you and you, my all, to the end

Of all we know or will ever know.

This scourge has put a wall between

Us all, not allowed to touch.

I wouldn’t mind so very much

If the time of scourge were not so long.

This separation is so wrong.

The itch to touch is a fever now,

I really, really must see you, Now!

I want to break down the door,

I want to take you to the dance floor.

 

I want the times to be as they were

But polished up. I want us all to be

Together. Together we succeed,

We feed each other; apart, we are

Subject to fall. My heart is all atug.

My arms are aching for your hug.

 

https://pixabay.com/photos/luck-pair-happy-couple-emotion-4279432/

 

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To Those Gone Before

Posted on July 10, 2020 by admin

 

To those gone before

TO THOSE GONE BEFORE

H. W. Bryce

 

I will not say goodbye, nor so long,

But see ya, soon, won’t be long.

To your memory we kneel,

With our love we place our seal.

To all of you who’ve gone before.

  

You have a name, we will remember your name.

You will live in our minds, you are here just the same.

You have left us with love, so for memory’s sake

We will hold onto your love, we will keep it safe.

For all you who’ve gone before.

 

We were barred from holding you to say goodbye,

We did not forget, it was the ‘law’ kept us out.

We cried for you, we felt your loneliness.

You were taken before your time,

All of you who have gone before.

 

You were much loved

You are much missed

You are not just a number

You are our precious one

You are our memories

You are ours, you are still ours,

You always will be ours.

You who have gone before.

 

So it’s goodbye to those who’ve gone before,

We will remember you forevermore.

You are not a number, nor a statistic be

You are most cherished memories

You were and always will be, Ours.

You who have gone before.

 

So

I will not say goodbye, nor so long,

But see ya, soon, won’t be long.

To your memory I kneel,

With my love I place my seal.

To you, who’ve gone before.

— —

Image by S. Hermann & F. Richter from Pixabay

#Alzheimer’s

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From this Heart

Posted on June 23, 2020 by admin

 

 

From this heart

FROM THIS HEART

H. W. bryce

 

For true democracy for all

 

From this aching heart please lift this burden

That I carry heavy along the way;

I cry for my fathers, I weep for my children,

I despair for my future. My feet feel like clay.

But I will not walk with my head bowed down.

 

This burden that I carry so heavy along the way

Was my father’s and his father’s and his and his

Through seven generations and that is enough to pay.

This curse will be ended, we will end it this day,

For my heart is heavy and weary is my soul.

The ills of the world are not our creations;

We did not poison the tree. But it’s ours to revive,

To prune, to feed, to ensure that it stays alive.

And I will not walk with my head bowed down.

 

I cry for my fathers, I weep for my children,

I stumble along the way, but I will not apologize.

I will not walk along with my head bowed down.

I will feast upon these rich forbidden fruits.

I will share the shelter of this Democracy Tree,

This tree that bears the sap of life that all of us drink.

Let us co-operate, never to hatred sink.

From this aching heart please lift this unfair burden.

I will not walk with my had bowed down.

 

From this aching heart please lift this burden.

Weary am I in this walk with this weight on my back;

But I am strong and I will drag my feet along

Heavy heart and all but with my head held high,

And I am never going to go back.

For I am worthy, my mama told me so, and I believe!

We can both forgive and forge ahead, but mind our backs

Lest we forget sacred vows and break promises made.

And I will not walk with my head bowed down.

 

I believe in love, in the best part of Mankind.

I worship truth, fidelity, honest words and deeds,

I accept all of Mankind, all colours, creeds and breeds.

All I ask is fair play, an honest shake of my hand

And the vow that we both will honour our word.

I believe in good faith, and a fair chance to succeed.

Not much to ask, this is all that I need.

Let trust serve as mediator, let this be our byword.

And I will not walk with my head bowed down.

 

I honor you, you honor me. That is democracy at work.

Mutual Respect is the key, and from that we must never shirk.

 

From this aching heart please lift this burden

That I carry heavy along the way;

I cry for my fathers, I weep for my children,

But I hope for my future though my feet feel like clay.

And I will not walk with my head bowed down.

— — —-

Image by Leroy Skalstad from Pixabay

Posted in A Voice in the Wilderness, Alzheimer's, Black Lives Matter, Caring, Dreams, Hard time, Homeless, Justice, Poem, Remembering, Remembrance | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Comments Off on From this Heart

Nobody’s Learnin’ Nuthin’

Posted on June 15, 2020 by admin

 

Nobody's learnin' nuthin'

NOBODY’S  LEARNIN’ NUTHIN’

 

H. W. Bryce

 

Ho hum, another killin’, another war,

Seen it all before. We mourn, we pray,

We say and we say, but prejudices will stay

And nobody’s learnin’ nuthin’.

 

Might’s well bury the future

’Cause it looks too much like the past.

 

Hunker down, don’t interfere

Your fellow citizen has a gun

No more fun. Crazy fools, they

Tried all that before,

nuthin’ new under the sun

Nobody’s learnin’ nuthin’.

 

By way of progress, nuthin’s new

Last twenty years and still the

Same result for the last 400 times

It’s time to draw the line.

 

Where have all our sons and daughters gone?

They’ve gone to fight a skirmish. Call it war.

The politicians never learned,

They called the army in.

 

Nobody’s learnin’ nuthin’

All the effort gone for nuthin’

And still they say, “I’m nobody’s

Fool.” Coulda fooled poor old me.

 

Coulda fooled. Coulda fooled,

Coulda fooled poor old me.

I’m too old to go to war…

 

Leave it to the young uns,

They’re the one what can learn.

Yeah, let’s all pass the buck,

Let the young uns save the world

’Cause nobody here’s leanrnin’ nuthin’.

 

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Everything Old Was Not Bad

Posted on June 13, 2020 by admin

 

Everything old is not bad - books picture

EVERYTHING OLD WAS NOT BAD

H. W. Bryce

Notes

There’s a tendency to abandon the old

Not just old people into institutions

But important traditions, institutions,

Buildings, genres in music, story-telling

Formats. Poetry, for examples, has swung

From formal formats to practically no

Format and they call it free verse. It has

Pendulummed from rhyme to blank, back

To rhyme or semi rhyme to blank, to the

Point where slurs and insults are being

Cast upon rhyme.

In the olden days, rhyme was honoured.

 

In the old days, there was land and farms

And gardens and happy toiling farm families.

Today we have corporate crop growers run

By city dwellers out of board rooms.

Everything old was not bad.

 

In the old days, crops were crops and they

Were healthy

Today we have genetically modified crops

And we don’t always know what we are eating.

Everything old was not bad.

 

In the old days, the old people stayed with

Their families, and when they died, the

Families washed the bodies and prayed over

Them and gave them decent, reverend burials.

Today, we burn the bodies, put them in a pot

And scatter their ashes to the wind.

Everything old was not bad.

 

In the old days, children learned the cycle of

Life on the farm; they played freely in Nature.

Today, children think milk comes from the

Store, many have never been to a farm or

Seen a cow and think gardening is slave

Labour. They play on cages, concrete pens.

Everything old was not bad.

 

In the old days, babies went where mother

Went, into the field to work, into the theatre

For work and was breast fed to weaning.

Today, babies are bottle fed, grow into communal day

gatherings, being taught basics by hired hands committee

Everything old was not bad.

 

We lived with horse and cows, chickens and sheep

We gathered wood for the wood stove, we melted snow

For the zinced family bath tub and went to the

Outdoor biffy for relief. We never overate,

we got plenty of natural exercise

and wore rosy red cheeks in winter

through shoulder high drifts. We walked miles

to the one-room school house and played

outdoors come what may the weather.

 

And we were one with Nature.

Everything old is not bad.

 

 

Image by Michal Jarmoluk from Pixabay

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