Brilig Place Episode 14 - Love Letters

Letters, if they’re carelessly juxtaposed,
Might cause a foreign army to invade.
A sad hand scrawling on a final page,
The memories of a life about to close.
But Brilig Girls - don’t dwell on morbid prose.
The lexicon of letters on display,
Like L.O.L, S.W.A.K,
Precipitate a kiss on cheeks aglow.
But Lovers’ gift of tiny teddy bears ?
Each with baby scarf, their names upon it?
A million trash gifts say “How much I Care ?”
Tortured letters twisted into sonnet ?
A love oblivious to those who stare ?
(Pass me a bag I think I need to vomit !)

Such cynicism comes from those half dead !
‘Love is real’ but threats are all around.
Words are simply echoes, empty sounds,
Reverberating something once half said.
Memory’s like a painting with colours bled,
A reminiscence found then lost then found.
That first date yellow dress with bow tied round,
Fondly recalled tomorrow coloured red.
And even declarations carved in stone,
‘An honest man much loved by family’
The mason’s efforts cannot long postpone,
These words from being washed out to the sea.
There is no anchor, we are all alone.
If love is real define reality.

Brilig Place Episode 12 - Collector

Since ancient times mankind’s collected things.
But sandals, baldness, glasses, unkempt beards
Are traits, perhaps, of curators’ careers,
Like bad breath and a phone that never rings.
Beware the anguish that this hobby brings
As new collections in your dreams appear;
The marvellous, peculiar, the weird,
Like snowflakes, teabags, toenails, cheesy strings.
A form of madness, Heidi, this way lies !
That grain of sand is somewhere on the beach
The last collection is the one despised
The missing piece is always out of reach.
Collections are reflections ! Virtual lives
Will lead to virtual kisses Friday nights

Cast off the flotsam jetsam ! Waste be gone !
Covet ye not inconsequential things
Don’t think about the teabags, cheesy strings,
On ebay fetching such outrageous sums.
But pity those who trade; those lonely ones
A Meal-for-Two ? Well, hope eternal springs !
The microwave sends out its soulful ping,
But silent is the planet they live on.
Remember this all started with the stamps ?
A habit, innocent and well contained.
The album once withdrawn lead to the cramps
And cravings for imperforates remained
Wake Up ! Rejoin us from that other land !
Where three inch plastic Jedhi knights still reign.