‘…’ was released in ‘Ačiū and first published in ‘Ta!’

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…

Deep down inside of me is something I can’t hide,
Welling, screaming, crying to be heard.

Deep down inside of me holds no fear,
Deep down inside of me will prevail.

‘Cause truth has no bounds, truth takes no captives,
‘Cause truth is strength, truth is force.

Because if you look truth in the eyes, you have entered eternity,
Because if you look truth in the eyes, you have freedom.

‘Cause freedom is strength, freedom is force,
‘Cause freedom has no bounds, freedom takes no captives.

Deep down inside of me will prevail,
Deep down inside of me holds no fear.

Welling, screaming and crying to be heard,
Deep down inside of me won’t hide.

For truth triumphs over evil,
When the world falls truth stands.

Truth, freedom in action, love in flight,
Truth ascends to glory.

Truth is truth is freedom is love is …

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Thank you so much for reading ‘out for lunch’. If you would like to contribute, please do. Thanks Kel.

Billy the Bus Driver was first released in ‘Ačiu’ and first published in ‘Ta!‘ and latterly published in MP3 format at Blackmail Press 30, ‘Bipolarisation’. [ISSN 1176-4791], New Zealand, 2011

Click here to listen to the MP3 version.

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Billy the Bus Driver

He was a big man (I think).
He drove a big bus (well not really).
But he was an important man, because he drove the bus.
He drove it to the ocean in the far south.
And he drove it to the ocean in the far north.
He drove it to the ocean in the far east and west,
He drove his bus all over Arran.

He was short and stocky, in fact maybe just squat.
He was good at what he does, but other than that he was pretty useless.
But he was at the top of the pecking order among his peers.
He was also tough and stubborn and would take on
people much bigger than himself.
And today he had the bus driver in his sights.

He was just enjoying his day, driving his bus over the humps
and around the corners.
He had no idea that the enemy was waiting for him.
He was just enjoying his day.

He waddled his short and stocky body into position.
And there he sat waiting for his quarry,
Just over a small hump where he couldn’t be seen.
He was ready – ready and waiting,
Eyeballing the road ahead.

He was driving south with the ocean at his right.
The sun was high in the sky.
In front of him was a little hump, beyond that he couldn’t see the road.
All was well, this was a good day.

The sun was high and hot behind that hump.
His short stocky body was breaking into a sweat.
Then he went all tense, he heard the bus coming.
There he waited, squat and strong, for the bus to appear on top of the hump.

All was well as the bus bounced over the hump.
The sun was shining, a beautiful day.
He was an important man because he was the bus driver.
But suddenly his eyes dilated and his nostrils flared.
His right foot instinctively hit the brakes.
The bus shuddered to a halt, throwing his passengers around.

Short and stocky he held his place in the middle of the road.
Adrenalin pumping, he eyeballed the bus driver.
Seemingly fearless he stood his ground.

The bus door violently flung open.
The bus driver lurched out of his creaking seat.
He thundered towards the door.
He leaned out of the door and said: ” Quack quack get out the bloody way”.

The short and stocky duck gave a rather contented look
And waddled off towards the ocean.

But he will go down in history.
As the duck at the top of the pecking order,
Who played chicken with a bus on the west coast of Arran and won.

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Thank you so much for reading ‘out for lunch’. If you would like to contribute, please do. Thanks Kel.

Nothing like a Deserted Fencepost
in a Windswept Field

Like a deserted fencepost in a windswept field, there stood
Nothing, ridged and cold yet alive.
Nothing in his loneliness, his solace, his helplessness,
Nothing focused on the nothingness.
Nothing’s glance found emptiness, bareness, Nothing’s glance
found nothing.
Nothing’s eyes pondered on the junction of north, south, east
and west, they found nothing, nothing at all.

Yearning and exploring in that nothing emerged Everything.
Everything invaded Nothing. Everything invaded Nothing’s
ponder, but escaped Nothing’s glance.
Everything swept the wind across the field.
Everything was everything, Everything was everywhere.
Ridged and cold yet alive, Everything was there, Everything
was everywhere.
Everything was everywhere, Everything was alive, Everything
was breathing.
Like a cold, rigid, deserted, windswept fencepost, Everything
was breathing.

Nothing pondered the invasion, Nothing and Nothing rejoiced.
Gently Nothing pondered, Gently nothing pondered Nothing,
Everything.
Everything was breathing.
The wind swept, as it swept, it swept away anxiety.
The wind swept Nothing, Everything and Everything was
breathing.

Like a wind swept fencepost, Nothing groaned and Nothing
groaned.
As the wind swept, it swept the groan. Swept it from Nothing to
Everything.
And Everything was breathing, Everything was transcending.

Like a windswept fencepost in a deserted field,
Was Nothing, was Everything and Everything was breathing.
Everything was transcending, transcending Nothing
Nothing, no understanding, Nothing, nothing at all.

A deserted fencepost, a windswept field.
And the wind swept, it swept Nothing into Everything.
Everything into Nothing. It was breathing, it was!
Transcending Nothing, Nothing, no understanding. The wind
swept.
On a barren field, the wind swept peace.
It swept Nothing, it swept Everything, It swept peace.

A fencepost, windswept, deserted, in a field, Nothing.
The wind swept Nothing, nothing at all.
The wind swept the heart of Nothing, nothing at all.
The wind swept his mind, Nothing’s, Nothing’s mind.
The wind swept Everything and Nothing was safe.
Everything was safe.
The windswept Everything and Everything was breathing.

The wind swept Nothing a barren fencepost.
The wind swept peace and Nothing was safe.
Nothing, the wind swept Everything, Everything was
transcending,
Everything was breathing and Nothing was safe.
Nothing, like a windswept fencepost in a windswept field.
Nothing was safe.

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Nothing like a Deserted Fencepost in a Windswept Field is featured in my book titled Ta!. Ta! can be purchased at late for supper for €13.45

Thank you so much for reading ‘out for lunch’. If you would like to contribute toward the running of out for lunch or donate money towards my writing projects, please click on the donate button. Thanks Kel.

Small Town Blues

If you want to be a freak,
Buy your water in Plungė.

If you want to be a freak,
Push your water in a shopping trolley in Plungė.

If you want to be a freak,
Wheel your water across the cobblestones in Plungė.

If you want to be a freak,
Just be me in Plungė.

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Small Town Blues is featured in my book titled Ta!. Ta! can be purchased at late for supper for €13.45

Thank you so much for reading out for lunch. If you would like to contribute toward the running of out for lunch or donate money towards my writing projects, please click on the donate button. Thanks Kel.