Defenestration

The Danger of Windows

Yes it's true. Windows can be very dangerous. They get good publicity, but  it's all lies. They hinge on hinges. They let light in but they won't let it back out again. There are windows of opportunity, but these tend to be skylights in vaulted roofs. It's no coincidence that a piece of glass for a window is called a pane. Double glazing is doubly painful. Internal windows. Those are what we need. I'm going to try and open my internal windows and have a long hard look at the boundless expanse of irrepressible life. And when I've stopped being optimistic, I'm going to be more optimistic.

Somebody likes stale bread

I noticed that the pecking order is reminiscent of the Spanish political scenario. It's anarchic, violent and just a feeding frenzy among a bunch of low animals only interested in getting fat and listening to themselves cackle, squeak, trill and waddle about preening themselves. But somebody likes stale bread.

From a couple of years ago now

Only missing the shotgun and a brace of grouse

And then suddenly, it's today. All over again.

Today's poem:

I the window

You opened me to air your friendless rooms

Lay bear the threadbare tapestries of charms

Exonerate the wealth within the gloom

And bathe in light that finds you in my arms

You opened me but then forgot the storm

approaching through the casement eye, the lie

Within the framework of a childless sigh.

The ledge invites; renege what's safe and warm!

Through windows framed the ever-present tense
panes of pain reveal that nought makes any sense
I am the glass that shields you from the rain
Fragile, invisible, your recompense.

Don't jump darling because nobody cares,
Don't leave by the window, leave by the stairs!