Hi to you all out there and I hope this short offering of meandering sentences finds you all well, albeit perhaps slightly tired from pulling out your proverbial puddings, but rest assured your contributions will be invaluable to whomever or whatever you made them to.
Here we go again with another week coming to an end and if yours has been as good as mine has so far then I would be inclined to do what I’m going to do with it, which is to pretend it never happened by destroying all evidence of it actually happening.  In my case, destroying the evidence is easy, all I have to do is pull out what looks to be 3 additional grey hairs that I seem to have accumulated over this past week, which is what I’ve actually just done, so there you go this week never happened for me, isn’t life so simple at times – all it took was pulling out three grey hairs.
Poetically, what I think I’ve done though is not destroy evidence of the passing of what we look at on clock faces, rather I’ve released it back into it’s motioning ocean, so with a bit of luck, what came out of my follicles will allow me to hook up and catch the same time at some other time in the future. That is as long as I have the right bait to interest time into wanting to give itself back to me, the next time that that time comes around.
Anyway, enough of that and on with the second part of the poem I started last week.  Until the next time, read, reap and sow and if you can’t get there safely then don’t go.

Hi to you all out there and I hope this short offering of meandering sentences finds you all well, albeit perhaps slightly tired from pulling out your proverbial puddings, but rest assured your contributions will be invaluable to whomever or whatever you made them to.

Here we go again with another week coming to an end and if yours has been as good as mine has so far then I would be inclined to do what I’m going to do with it, which is to pretend it never happened by destroying all evidence of it actually happening.  In my case, destroying the evidence is easy, all I have to do is pull out what looks to be 3 additional grey hairs that I seem to have accumulated over this past week, which is what I’ve actually just done, so there you go this week never happened for me, isn’t life so simple at times – all it took was pulling out three grey hairs.

Poetically, what I think I’ve done though is not destroy evidence of the passing of what we look at on clock faces, rather I’ve released it back into it’s motioning ocean, so with a bit of luck, what came out of my follicles will allow me to hook up and catch the same time at some other time in the future. That is as long as I have the right bait to interest time into wanting to give itself back to me, the next time that that time comes around.

Anyway, enough of that and on with the second part of the poem I started last week.  Until the next time, read, reap and sow and if you can’t get there safely then don’t go.

I’m in Samezu continued

How I dread having to spend time renewing licences.

And waiting to do other things in life.

That require time spent sitting and then standing.

Then walking from one window to another.

Getting shunted from one other to another other.

The other other says “Now go to room number ten.

And get your photograph taken.

After that, go to window 8.

And pay the going rate.

For a three year renewal on your old one”.

I respond with “This is my fourth renewal.

And I can’t yet qualify for a five year golden”.

I’m now sitting in the lecture room waiting for

the lecturer to begin.

He’s quite short, balding bespectacled and not

at all thin.

Actually, he’s just approached me and in Japanese

he’s asking me if I can speak Japanese.

To which I reply,

“Oh! Yes, please. No, thank you and show him some cheese.

But it’s only because I’m feeling that way out and

I want to amputate his knees.

He asked me where I’m from and how long I’ve been here.

To which I reply England, good old England and ni

on twenty year.

Then he laughed and said “I thought so”

and wandered off out the door.

And down the long corridor.

There are about 6 of us already in this room.

And I’m the only one of the few of a different hue.

The others are reading their booklets and in between.

They’re checking their mobile phones. What drones!

Another two have just meandered in.

And outside I can hear herds of other lecturites busily

making their way to their rooms.

All is now quiet and we assume a position and posture.

To show interest and respect is to make a kindly gesture.

To me this is no more than a lecture I can barely understand.

In Japan lectures are the law of the land.

To the others in the room it’s a test.

Everything here’s like a test.

All the last minute swatting to memorise words and their ities.

To do nothing more than compliment the absurdities.

Part 2 of a poem by Stephen Austwick.