The Bluebottle

 The Bluebottle

Last night I killed a bluebottle, squashed it with the bottom of a drinking glass.

How bad I felt

Repentance comes in all sorts of ways

How I always feel for the waifs and strays

The helpless creatures, they always have wings

On a prayer, yet they stare, mostly with resentment

Thou shall not kill, we are told!

Yet, they are all at it!

A bluebottle is dirty, so I am told

How dirty is dirty?

It was alive once and now it is dead

No matter say the humans, after all they are dirty

How dirty is dirty?

But, the humans are dirty or so it seems

It is almost taken as read

After all is said and done

That the humans rule and animals are yet another set of disposables

What does a mere bluebottle know?

I suspect that in the general scheme of things

Rather a lot.

 

John Higgins – Entre – Nous, Collection

 

Angels & Demons

In a strange way peace comes, and then floats

In ascendency

Mind’s eye fixes on hope

Wistful thoughts conjure up a place of beauty

Transforming into a face

                       Eventually
lost in space, never to be seen again

Juxtaposed, side – by – side
Angels and demons vying for position

A thought drifting, with hands failing to grasp, air
sliding through fingers

Mind ascending – in delicate and ethereal light.

Demon drink never really became a friend; we fell out a
long time ago

I prefer to float with angels

It should have been earlier, but time often stands still
and decisions are stalled.

After all there are many to offend and many more to
ignore.

How many times have I fallen, fumbled and stumbled

Words mumbled

Picking myself up, only to carry on as before

A life of endless repetition

And disjointed vision

Of highs and lows, of purples and mauves

That said, rarely grey and black, or discordant notes

Music of angels transcend the orchestrated works of the
devil

Demonic acts are put aside

After all where is there left to hide?

One foot in front of the other is by far the best,
following a new path

In a languid gait, with an urgency of a different kind

Now is the time to look at the face

Take in the lines, the dark shadows blending

Rivulets of tears can now break into a smile

In the knowledge that the angels have answered a prayer

And the devil has lost

John Higgins – Ascendency collection