Too Late

 

 

Build a what?

An ark?

What is that?

Between my knowledge base

And this ark-thing was a huge gap.

 

But not for long,

I was given specific instructions

Which I followed to a “T”

And that without question.

 

Finally, it was completed

Down to the very last nail,

Pitched within and without

It was now ready to sail.

 

Two by two

The animals came,

Their variety of sounds

Making a cacophonous refrain.

 

Their homing devices

Set to destination, the ark,

Ordered by an unseen power

Before the imminent dark.

 

And I in awe

At this turn of events,

Meanwhile they that should know better

Refusing to repent.

 

 

Mocking and laughing

And having loads of fun,

Unaware of the pending peril

From which they cannot run.

 

That is, of course,

Unless they follow the animals

They would soon be past tense:

An eradicated people.

 

A flood?

What flood?

Old Noah, are you mad?

All of that work for absolutely nothing,

How foolish, how sad!

 

A massive boat

And no water to float it,

Poor Noah had lost his senses

And didn’t know how to quit.

 

Persistence is all right

When you are aware of your goal,

But surely not in Noah’s case

He was now in a hole.

 

 

A massive boat

Built in the middle of nowhere

With no water to sail it

And none likely to appear.

 

And so, they mocked

And so, they laughed

Not recognizing

This was their final repast.

 

 

 

An evening at the movies

Suddenly turned sour

And their fun turned to horror

That very hour.

 

Stewart Russell © July 2020

 

Just One of Those Times

 

 

Just one of those times

When I feel I should write

But there’s a problem here

For nothing is in sight.

 

Just one of those times

No topic on my mind,

There’s none I can find

None to which I am inclined.

 

Yet I am drawn to write

A poem of sorts,

If nothing comes soon

I’d be forced to abort.

 

Even all like now

As I type verse number four

There is no inspiration

But I’ll try some more.

Have patience I am told

Maybe something will unfold,

I am not warming to the task

Everything is cold.

 

This is verse number six

Still trying to get the right mix,

Really stretching my mind now

But can’t get out of this fix.

 

Any suggestion you can give

I’d readily welcome,

If it doesn’t come soon

You can bet I’ll be done.

 

Well it’s too late now

I am packing it up,

Writing without inspiration

Is certainly not my cup.

 

It was only recently

A good friend made a request

But I told her unless I am inspired

I cannot give my best.

 

“But you write well,” she said,

“It should be very easy for you.”

I reiterated, “Unless I am inspired

I cannot do what you require.”

 

That’s similar to right now;

I feel a need to write

But no matter how hard I try

Nothing comes out right.

So before I repeat myself

And bore you half to death

I’ll just repeat verse one

And wish you the best of health.

 

It’s just one of those times

When I feel I should write

But there’s a problem here

For nothing is in sight.

 

Stewart Russell © September 2017

 

Two Days to Forget

 

 

 

Forget yesterday

It does not remember you,

Worry not about tomorrow

For you haven’t a clue.

 

Today is your day

Since yesterday surely is not

And tomorrow is no guarantee

Concerning your lot.

 

Two days to forget:

Yesterday and tomorrow

For from neither, I dare say,

Not a minute you can borrow.

 

Neither the twain exists

I can assure you of that,

Yesterday has already gone

And tomorrow’s never a fact.

 

Yesterday may be a track record

You’d want to consider

But it’s better to forget it

If it brings you a shiver.

 

Tomorrow on the other hand

Is all in the mind

And has never eclipsed today

At any given time.

 

 

None can fix yesterday;

That’s an impossible feat

And tomorrow doesn’t come

So today is never complete.

 

Plan all you can

For the prospect of tomorrow

But bear in mind, my friend,

It is today that you sow.

 

Regret all you must

About yesterday’s mistakes

But there is nothing you can do

For yesterday is too late.

 

Two days to forget:

Yesterday and tomorrow

But neither the twain do we

Whether of joy or sorrow.

 

Stewart Russell © June 4, 2022

 

Not for Truth

 

 

You remember we would tell a lie

And then say “not for truth”,

And to show we were just joking

This would be our proof.

 

We wanted to make it clear

That the story was not true

Hence, “not for truth” would follow

And by this everybody knew.

 

I haven’t heard it for a long time

And so, this might be a sign

That everything is the truth

Especially in this time.

 

Because today truth is relative

And I don’t know to what

But that is what I am hearing

And not from a few but quite a lot.

 

We need to bring it back

So that we can know for sure

“Not for truth” means they are joking

Like we would joke before.

 

It is standard these days

To entertain another with a lie

And then convince that person

It's a fact no one can deny.

 

 

Then it spreads like a wild fire

With the claim it is the truth

Whereupon many will swallow it

And add their own proof.

 

How I long to hear “not for truth”

And to know they are joking

Even if I am the unfortunate person

At whom they are poking.

 

You see, I can take a joke

And you know that I can give one

But it is getting really serious

And the jokes are all gone.

 

And I won’t say “not for truth”

Because I am serious this time,

It is time we make clear distinctions

And stop boggling the mind.

 

I heard the other day

Something I could not believe

But since there was no “not for truth”

It spread with bull-cow speed.

 

It turns out it was not true

But the “not for truth” came too late

Whereupon the victim in question

Was left in difficult straits.

 

How I long for a “not for truth”

So that I can dismiss what I hear,

But “not for truth is a thing of the past

And this is the reality I fear.

 

Stewart Russell © December 22, 2021