Can’t Happen

 

 

Two words I hear often

Usually in annoyance

And they come after the fact

In every instance.

 

Only today

I heard these words

And it was after the annoyance

Had already occurred.

 

Can’t happen

After it has happened

Is of little comfort, my friend,

To the one threatened.

 

Especially after

It has happened before

And is currently happening again

And likely some more.

 

So, what do we mean,

I mean, really mean,

When we say, “Can’t happen!”

Re a reoccurring scene?

 

Who’s to stop it

From happening again

Or from continuing to happen

Like the rain?

 

Who looks at the rain

And say “Can’t happen” again

And really believes such

If he is not insane?

 

 

Can’t happen

Especially after the fact

Is nothing more than a placebo

And this is a fact.

 

It’s a consolation:

A “make me feel good”,

It’s like a promise to a fool:

A slumbering dud.

 

Sounds authoritative

Like a kitten that roars

Or, like a demanding beggar,

Knocking on doors.

 

Can’t happen

Is none too comforting

Especially when it’s ongoing

And unsettling.

 

Add to “Can’t happen”

“Not ‘bout hey”

And straight-up you know,

It’s just a term we say.

 

Meaningless at most,

Authoritative at least,

Like the PM’s “Stop and desist!”

Expecting it to cease.

 

Words say a lot

But they do nothing

Unless humanly implemented

To do their bidding.

 

 

Unless of course,

That someone is God,

He is omniscient and omnipotent,

He is The All in All.

 

He spoke the word

And it was done

And sooner or later we’ll know,

He is the only one.

 

Stewart Russell © August 1, 2024

 

Seemingly So

 

 

Seeming is apparent

It’s never definitely certain,

There is still some skepticism

Lurking behind the curtain.

 

As the drama unfolds

So many things can occur

To question the apparent

And make one more unsure.

 

Seeming is never certain

It is more of a hope,

More like a mechanism we use

To help us to cope.

 

A friend once said to me

Ninety-nine percent is still unsure,

There is some reservation

That looms more and more.

 

It is always the uncertainty

That worries us the most,

And it’s only a hundred percent

In which we can boast.

 

 

There is certainty with God

I can think of no one else,

Not even in the greatest human

And surely not in self.

 

You see, God knows everything

And we do not,

Nothing is apparent to Him

But appearance is our lot.

 

It is all we have to go on

That is, outside of God,

It is somewhat like the lotto

Until the numbers are called.

 

The present is our best bet,

The future is a no-show

And if indeed it comes around,

There is only today to show.

 

How it seems is exactly that

No matter our insistence,

Appearance is an approximation;

It’s not an exact science.

 

Take Longfellow’s timely advice:

Trust no future however pleasant,

However bright it may seem,

Seemingly so is just apparent.

 

Stewart Russell © May 2020