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Life Coaching, Observations, Reflections, Things that make you go hmmmmm

Category Archives: Relationship

Warning Signs – Lyric

Warning Signs

Lyric

(chorus)
Once upon a time, there was a time
Wasn’t much in way of reasoning
Ignored all your flashing eyes warning signs

(verse)
From here to there and back to there from here
Can’t quite keep straight what I’m supposed to do
Don’t quite know where I’m supposed to go
This lovin’ baby of mine, got me so I just don’t know

When she’s here she’s gone somewhere else
The calls keep dropping, she can’t say why
Got so many questions you’re going to have to hear
Any one answer could break this lovin’ heart

(chorus)
Once upon a time, there was a time
Wasn’t much in way of reasoning
Ignored all your flashing eyes warning signs

(verse)
More and more feeling I’ve made myself blind
I don’t know what’s got you getting in so late
Would you let me know if you’d found a new flame
Wondering how much more of your lovin’ I can take

Desires died, just like pissing out the fire at night
Almost believe it’s how you wanted this to go
This disinterest is our death so we gotta part
No grave yard sighs, thanks for the lovin’ and goodbye

(chorus end)
Once upon a time, there was a time
Wasn’t much in way of reasoning
Should of paid attention to your signs of the times

G.R. Hambley ©
October 24, 2017

Chronological List

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Lyrics List

Lyrics List

Then one day you look around and notice just how many you’ve done.

There is a contact me form at the end of the list.

G.R. Hambley © all rights reserved.
1 Little Black Dressed is collaboration that is very special.
Living out life in a gleeful rage
Innocence in this smile, tricks in another
The sweetness of the slaughter upon the lips
The second-hand silk is only a tease
2 Closing Time
Another time, another place,
you’d become not just another face
3 Making My Way
Walking round and round that house of tells
Your voice comes calling out in the dark
Heard you sayin’ it’d be right for this old heart
4 From The Stars
Long before there was sin
Way out where the souls begin
Came a song in a whisper
5 We Have One Now
Happens once and a while, only for one man smile
An angel face, melting eyes, her sweet breathy sighs
Dropping in to talk, lingering on a walk
6 Edge Walking
Waking to another day, already on the knife
Always at the ready, keep staying honed
Lookin’ round, it all appears the same as yesterday
7 Realize It’s Over
It’s about taking time to take time
There just hasn’t been much at all
Call comes in on the telephone line
8 On That Jersey Shore
Started out like any other day
Woke up with the waves calling
Wanted to just lie there numb
9 If You Dare
Once in a time
that was better than anything in your mind
Not so strange
in a world where love’s made such a change
10 Red Rose Among The Trees
Know this being all alone to well
Staying late, never going home
Seeing others close, sticks and stones
Hands in hands, hands in my pockets
11 Baby Be Mine
She’s colder than northern winds
She’s hotter than original sins
Gonna be there and bide my time
Do right and make that girl mine
12 Now Begins Forever
We’ve been going round and round
exchanging our half smiles
having all those conversations
where we won’t let them the end
13 Counter Cutie
Climbs herself up on that chair, gives up a little high thigh
Overtly lets them legs cross, grey skirt makes a swift shift
Uncrossing them, a small curvy push, tilting back the cool stool
14 Nella Notte Cieca
Believing with all her heart someday it’ll come true
Letting the living lie slide on out the way it came
Inside where she hides from herself and the pain
15 Angel Beach
We were just walkin’ along that beach
Seeing the ripples, rise higher and higher
Stopping to stare into that setting sun
16 Won’t You Tell Me
Baby I got these thoughts going on
Sitting all by myself at home
Sitting here feeling all alone
17 Beach Bound
Been working an all night day
Now there’s time for a little fun
Sun’s making its morning run
18 Departure Gate
Fretting over it hour after hour
Worrying about it night after night
Feeling it fall week after week
Been knowing it for months now
19 Train Of Thought
Sitting on this sweltering city roof
Far below people roaming around
Sweating and swearing as they go
20 The Devil’s Fine Day
He done went down from heaven
The boy just up and shuffled off
The Devil took himself a powder that day
21 Witness
Looking for a little down time
.     had to get myself away
Monday morning glory
.     wasn’t happening today
22 Crashing Down
Day slides it’s way to the end
Not looking forward to going home
Turning in at that bend in the road
Rather be making a long drive alone
23 Fallen Angel
Newly fallen she wakes to a different world today
And she’s never
never been on her own before
Went from home on the hill to a home on loan
24 In The Quiet Of The Night
Half past midnight and finally free
free from the demands of a clamoring world
World moving so fast it’s hard to keep your feet
feet feel like miles and the miles feel like hell
25 You No More
Sometimes you just know
just know you got no more
no more love left to give
26 Girls Rite
You hear them, it’s the shame every time
They’ve all had it happen, been torn apart
Now another one’s got the no romance blues
27 Falling Apart
These days are almighty long
the nights so lonely
Giving the best for the cheque
spending nights in hazy dread
28 Once Again
Once again freedom’s crying
ringing out while on the run
It falls to the old ones
those who long ago came of age
29 No More Yesterday’s
There were those who’d gone ahead
Learned the ropes and roads and dread
Some came and shared their mind
Others struggled and suffered and died
30 Everyone’s Girl
Her days don’t begin before three
Her nights spent in party grove
Never seen the sun go down
Seen it coming up so damn often
31 Lost And Found
The times wearing me on down
no time for any little thing
Sprung from the trap you set
gonna take the fast road back
32 Lake Side
Day dreaming out on the rocks
sun setting the lake ablaze
all but gone the hostage daze
letting down all the blocks
33 Haunting Her
Unseen she stepped inside
Know it’s her by the steps
She stares straight ahead
Her face kept firmly set
34 Once Bitten
We were young and oh so cool
Back when we were all fools
Feelin’ our way around
35 Spinsters
Stories making the rounds
none to be believed
none to be trusted
careful not to get busted
36 Left Unsaid
Whispers and rustles making the rounds
Sighs and gasps the disbelieving sounds
It’s between us, no one must, couldn’t ever be us
37 Were You Me
Watching out the window on a cloudy day
Caught up in all those billows shifting shapes
Faces through my ages floating in grey space
There’s so little that’s left out in front
38 Missing Day
Up in the morning and the coffee’s on
Sour dough toasting, golden for me
A little cinnamon sugar reminds of you
Not even seven and there’s the phone
39 Going Clean
Whispers in the air
Eyebrows raising up
Pretending not to hear
Taking in what’s said
40 If Only
Walking on home alone,
that old bell softly chimes
Passing right on by,
the tower bell strikes again
Falling farther behind
that niggling bell tolls once more
G. R. Hambley ©
All rights reserved

A Lady, She Wrote Me A Letter

A Lady, She Wrote Me A Letter

Have you ever received a letter?

No, not like in a welcome from your new bank or local chapter of the Willie Wonka Candy Crush Club.

I was sitting on the patio of a favoured coffee spot and one of the good coffee elves asked me what I was doing as what I was doing didn’t include my computer. I had my big book of blank pages open in front of me and one of my 2 pens in hand. I have other utensils that make inky marks but they aint pens!

I told the good elf I was writing a letter to a cousin. I asked if they’d ever received a letter and I was told no. We talked for just a couple minutes and the Elf made the bank reference. I said, “that’s a shame”.

For those of you that are semantically challenged, in this usage, shame can also be interpreted as unfortunate and/or sad. No person real or imagined was shamed or ashamed.

I’ve received and written and sent letters. Recently I received a letter from South Korea written by a lovely lady that I had the good fortune to encounter. You can read about her and me and our prattling in my “Foreign Liaisons” piece.

I care to share something with all of you that the Lady said to me in her letter.

Letter Share 01

Being a Torontonian and a life long Boston Bruins fan, I’m not really buying that Montreal part. Centre Hice, TABERNAC! That would be a cultural reference so don’t go offending me by appropriating it!

A letter, the second one I’ve written to the Lady is making its way from me to her. I say in my letter, we Canadians are for the most part, a good people. I didn’t bust the Lady’s Montreal bubble.

Have you ever written a letter to someone and later been told by that person how it made them feel when they discovered your hand-written letter waiting for them? When they told you about that letter you sent, were you exhilarated?

If you’ve written a letter to someone, how did you feel when you were writing that letter? Were you more reflective? Were you more thoughtful and deliberate with that which you put down so as not to mar the page with strikeouts? When you were writing the letter did you appreciate that time within your own head?

There were a couple letters I wrote that I didn’t send. Have you ever written your heart out in a letter and not sent it?

If you did send a letter, did you make it so the person you sent your letter to could take it to their dreams without having to remember what you wrote? Was the letter you sent scented?

Do you care to share what you felt when you tucked that scented letter you received partly under your pillow? How’d you sleep with that scented missive beside your head? Did you wake in the night and reach to make sure that letter was still there? How did you feel when your fingers touched the envelope and you knew that letter was right where you put it?

Did you maybe reach for that letter and it wasn’t there under your pillow? It felt so good when you discovered your letter had only slipped to the floor in your slumber didn’t it. Not a question. Would you care to offer up reasoning as to why my statement wasn’t a question?

When you retrieved that letter from the floor did it join other letters you’d received that had been bound together with ribbon?

Letters Ribbon

How long did you hold that bundle of letters before tucking them safely in to your sock drawer? Socks and letters, both can be warm and fuzzy don’tcha know.

The handwritten letter is a wonderful thing. Cursive writing is pretty and has character. Have you ever wondered why there are so many elegantly flowing script fonts for your electronic use? Now you know.

My penmanship is far from the best and this is because my brain insists on moving faster than my hand. This is not unusual and can be somewhat counteracted with thought. You can counteract right up to the point your brain takes off leaving your hand behind. Trust me on this.

The state of the word as it lands on the page doesn’t stop me from writing by mine own hand. I have a journal too. If you would like to call it diary you are free to do so and it won’t phase me in the least because I’m just not that insecure in my sexuality.

GRH with journal

This is mine. There are other Journals like it but this one is mine, unique. If you’d like one, write one and before you start, get a real pen and not some cheap writing utensil.

Good pens have a different feel. A good pen has substance just like those words you’re gifting to the page. In truth I call it bleeding on the page and if that analogy works for you, help yourself. A good pen doesn’t get heavy or uncomfortable in your hand.

There are a great many people who will tell you the “Art of Letter Writing” is gone. Those people will tell you that with our technology it is just oh so much easier and faster than writing a letter. Those people would be correct but what they don’t take in to consideration is how thoughtless emails and text messages are.

I have another letter to write that will give more context to a piece of the content in a previous letter. Yes, I know that sounds terribly clinical. All I did was tell you what I’m going to do and not how I’m going to do it. You already know what I say will be thoughtful and heartfelt.

A cup of coffee, a big book with blank pages, music playing and a pen. It appears I’m being threatened with a good time.

G.R. Hambley ©
October 13, 2017

Letters bound by ribbon from;
cdn.skim.gs/image/upload/v1456343885/msi/stack-of-old-letters-tied-with-ribbon-isolated_poequj.jpg

Potty Mouth

Potty Mouth

When I saw this thing roll by it was difficult to take what I saw for real. Figured I couldn’t of seen it correctly. Followed it up and I saw it right.

I looked, I read, the words that came out of my mouth were not the words that were being said in my brain as I was in a public place. I did a recent piece about cursing. I do and the bit I do is mostly benign. If I forget something or make an error you’ll get an “oh shit” out of me. Who hasn’t let out a “Damn it!”?

One of the things it says on the splash down (no not a #2) screen is this, “helps you and your child learn the importance of taking regular potty breaks”.

This thing…. THIS THING!

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!?

Where do you even start with how fucked up this is?
Is this what it’s come to with parenting today?

Potty Time With Text

G.R. Hambley ©
September 16, 2017

Fear and the Alligator Mouth

Fear and the Alligator Mouth

Fear, we all have it within. Fear, the fight or flight mechanism. Fear is good. Fear can keep you safe.

Making someone afraid is bad. Conducting yourself without fear, also bad.

Fear, the healthy respect, it’s eroding and there is good and bad in the erosion.

Unfortunately, one of the fears that is eroding is the fear of getting slapped or punched in the mouth.

It’s just simple physics y’all, action/reaction. Who’s to say the verbal slap isn’t equal to the physical slap? Qualification physics.

Read a few stories about cursing in the work place a few weeks back. The information didn’t surprise me in the least with the conduct I’ve seen over the last decade or so in less formal places. This would include the driver of the vehicle in the cursing incident I’m gonna tell you about.

A few links that’ll give you a jumping off point. All open in a new tab or window.

Who swears more at work, men or women?

Watch Your Mouth! More Women Swear at Work Than Men

Why people go @*@&@(*&! in the office

I witnessed a cursing incident. Wasn’t pleasant and I felt for the person who was in the passenger seat and had to listen to the broadcast. A captive audience to the diatribe of the driver.

I looked at the guy in the passenger seat, give him the palms up with shoulder shrug and look to the heavens with head shaking.

This is a Friday afternoon on hot sunny day in the core of Toronto during rush hour. It’s always tourist season in this city so factor that in too.

Mr Captive Audience returns my gestures. The driver is still dropping the “F” bombs in rapid succession.

Me and the guy, we’re still looking at each other while the driver carries on with the F Bomb Blues. I give him the “can you believe this, what’cha gonna do gesture” again and he gives it back to me.

Meanwhile people are stopping on the street, looking for where this Blue Bird of Unhappiness is chirping from.

Third time is the charm right? Well me and that guy, we go through the, “I don’t know, can you believe this shit” shrugging ritual again and, and, and the driver sees him do it.

Then I felt even worse, that poor, poor, bastard. The guy was gonna have to explain to the woman the “what the hell was that?” that she’d just seen. Right then a gap opens and she’s in to it and moving off, slowly.

As they move off to the east I’m left standing there watching them go and thinking, “Fare thee well you poor, poor, bastard”.

Girls have their RITES and so do guys. Only a guy can understand what is going to happen next. While men and women are the same species, maybe, we are vastly different creatures.

Completely oblivious to what’s going on around her. The guy is going to have to tell her the outburst was heard by a whole lot of people. He’s going to have to tell her he wasn’t real pleased to be a part of the centre of attention.

I could tell he didn’t condone the action and I’m hoping that little tidbit of information gets passed along to little Ms ME. No not “Medical Examiner and yes “Millennium Entitled”. Hey maybe it was a different inflated entitlement. Or just maybe, and as much as women like to protest they can’t be such a thing, (yeah they can) she was just an asshole.

I’m betting she’ll tell him, “I don’t fucking care”. Any takers? Just to be safe, that bet, it’s rhetorical.

It’s a whole lot different when a guy does it and it’s a woman in the passenger seat.

Now when a woman tells a man about his behaviour, he’s expected to be contrite and appreciative of the efforts that fine woman has made to show him the error of his ways. But if a man does the same, he’s insensitive for not being on her side. Doesn’t matter she was carrying on like a braying jackass. The guy is wrong and the woman is right.

Brings to mind using sex as a weapon and why guys will just shut the hell up or stick up. Sex as a weapon, that’s a sordid tale for another time.

Her outburst had to do with being late and not being able to move faster in rush hour traffic. She was held up. Her getting to where she had to go, her only consideration. She was about that close to a self-induced persecution complex.

Male or female, the ones running their alligator mouths are going to be the ones expecting their friends and family to auto back them.

The infamous “Hummingbird Ass”, there are more and more of them vocalizing every day because they do not fear. This is bad.

Backing them, you’ll probably have to do so one way or another because that “Alligator Mouth” overloaded what is most probably a “Hummingbird Ass”. Not going to take the chance on them getting reamed or hurt. Especially if you’re a guy, you got no choice but to stand up. Even if you’d like to take a strip off the asshole her yourself on this one, (with the accompanying head shake and eye roll) you gotta stand up.

Women are real good for calling guys on what they do. How about paying attention to and emulating what men don’t do instead of emulating what you think they do?

As always, I’ve talked to those of both sexes about what I see and what I think. The good people in my community are good enough to tell me what they see and think. A diverse bunch and I appreciate them all!

We talked about the lack of fear in personal deportment. Conduct if you prefer. Lessons imparted that help bad things not happen, too you.

Apparently, in this century, cursing is the new civility. Well maybe for women in the office, walking down the street and potty mouth groups heading for a potty break.

Angry is the new happy. Just like fear, anger can and does elicit the fight/flight response. Pretty much the same effect as an alligator mouth overloading a hummingbird ass. That response would be walk away or slap you fucking silly.

Not all slaps are physical. The verbal ones can hurt more than a physical slap and take much longer to heal, if at all. The verbal slap is quite likely to be more inviting to make response. And then it’s on and it’s ugly and no one needs it.

Within the confined quarters on an automobile, that cursing the world behaviour gets real old real fast.

Now we got a few kinds of abuse going on. Physical maybe, it’s emotional for sure and then there is abuse of the word. I detest the abuse of the word.

I trust you’ve had a look at the links I’ve included.

Women have got to start being accountable for what they do. Especially so when in an environment where they invented the current fucking language, the office. Women can’t be playing the, “Well men do it” card when they are the biggest offenders.

If you’ve read me some, you know as a certainty that I talk with the people in my community. Some of what we talk about is what we’ve seen, encountered, bypassed on the street.

Again, if you’ve read me you know I’m a smoker. I pop out for one and take in what’s going on around me. Sometimes I just pop out because moving around helps the thought process.

When the cursing is cascading down the street in 4 or 5 part disharmony, more often than not it is women.

The community standard, gratuitous cursing is unattractive and uncomfortable. The result is ostracising. Judicious cursing, can be effective and appreciated. Oddly, the community standard operates just that way.

I’m not going to pull a holier-than-thou televangelist routine and pretend I don’t curse because I do. I’m not going to lie to you and say when I curse it’s all for effect cuz it isn’t.

Thing is, and I get it, cursing derives from the word curse. Not many people seem to understand that and it is a shame, all they’re really accomplishing with the behaviour is putting a curse on themselves.

I’m a proponent of being able to use all the words. Simply, male or female, cursing as a regular part of your vocabulary, it isn’t attractive. I haven’t been real comfortable dropping the expletives in to this piece. There has been muttering under my breath which has included epithets.

Of course you are free to carry on as you like. While you’re carrying on, consider this.

With angry as the new happy, and people putting up with much less, one way or another, your alligator mouth could be on the receiving end of a well deserved slap and merit badge.

If you require further illumination, see rule 10.

G.R. Hambley ©
August 23, 2017

Older and Better

Older and Better

All he kept talking about was glory days.

I was thinking about this piece this morn and then Springsteen’s , “Glory Days” came on. Now that’s what I call a set your dial to write clue. “Good Friend” calls that summoning something else. Barely got any coffee in me, damn.

Many of us know one or two or three people that are like that. One of the best film portrayals of the “Glory Days” individual was by Dennis Hopper in “Hoosiers”.

You’re not getting older you’re getting better. A well known campaign with an affirming PSA touch by Clairol.

Once upon a time I was a member of the “Yea right” brigade as it applies to the “You’re not getting older you’re getting better” slogan.

Change of perspective, and it happened a good while back, changed the mindset.

Yes I’m old. We have statistical data for a reason and statistically, I’m in the last quarter of my life.

I’m adverse to dragging my old glory days out. Even writing it in this context where it’s actually useful, it doesn’t fit well with me.

You can find the following online and is an older posting. Which do you think I was…. Bear, Ram or Hawkeye?

CJFL
The Toronto area really needs to look at getting back into the Canadian Junior Football League (ages 19 to 22 years).  Back in the day there were at least three teams in the GTA.  The Lakeshore Bears playing out of Centennial Park in Etobicoke, the Scarborough Rams playing out of Birchmount Stadium, and the Oshawa Hawkeyes playing out of the Shwa.

Back then talented football players who couldn’t attend college or university because of grades, money or whatever reason had a place to keep playing a high level of football in Canada.  Back in the mid 70s the Scarborough Rams having winning records of 10 and 0 seasons along with the Ottawa Sooners, and the Hamilton Hurricanes could give any University ball club a run for their money. Bring Junior ball back to the GTA!!!!

I see in my research for this tale that the Ontario Football Conference in 2017 is again part of the CJFL. Toronto is represented by the GTA Grizzlies.

So yeah, I had some Football glory days. Last one I signed, it was with Junior Argonauts. I’m pretty sure you can figure out the affiliation.

I remember it well. A weekend in mid March colder than a witch’s…., down at old CNE Stadium (I could tell you where to find pieces of CNE Stadium today but that’s a story for another time). Wind was blowing in through that gap between the 3rd base line and the North Grandstand.

Bulova Tower

The Bulova Clock Tower which used to be the Shell Tower was stuck at a balmy -6 C. Fun Wow!

There is an eeriness to an empty stadium. It’s both a bit haunting and really thrilling looking around all the empty seats when you’re down playing on the field. Visualization is an important tool and yes I envisioned 55,000 people cheering for me.

If the witch image isn’t working for you, try going with, “Brass Monkey”. Equality friends, equality, something for everyone.

I do appreciate why football players bitched about that outfield fence seam on the CNE gridiron! You hit that seam the wrong way, hey what’s a new ankle or knee between friends! Back then they had, “Turf Gripper” footwear. All those things did was make it easier for the “Turf Monster” to get you!

CNE Getty Images

I’m old. This is a fact. Using our measuring sticks, ¾ of my life is over, I’m old.

I had a brief conversation some months back with one of the people in my community I’m friendly with. You don’t need the entire context. What I told the individual is this, at this point in my life, if I want a story I write one. If I want a pretty picture, I make one.

Community friend was not made aware of what is in my past. I’d love see the face of community friend when they’re reading this piece.

I’m a far better writer, photographer, artist than I ever was a football player. We’ve already established, I was a good football player.

How wonderful is it to be able to do those things? How much better is this legacy of art? Sure, those questions are debatable, debatable to everyone but me that is and it is all about me.

To sit down and create. To be seen and read in 103 countries around the world. Now that is one glorious ego stroke. I worked and pushed out, I earned it.

My top 5 countries in order of viewership:

  • USA
  • Canada
  • India
  • South Africa
  • Italy

Number 1 and 2 aren’t a surprise. Those two should be where they are. Now number 3, if you know what I am now and what I espouse, it isn’t a great surprise.

When comparing numbers between Canada and the USA, Canada has about 10% of the people that the USA does. When I look at the stats I’d kind of expect to see the same ratio of 10 to 1. It’s about 5 to 1 and that pleases me.

“Far have I travelled and much have I seen”, Mull Of Kintyre. I don’t have your miles on me but hey, thank you Sir Paul!

What I’ve become is much better and far more powerful. I grew stronger and better. As I grew, I touched others significantly. I’ve met some real outstanding individuals and made a couple lifelong friends. To my mind, that’s the glory.

It isn’t all one way. I have been significantly touched myself. This makes me stronger, it makes me better.

“Carry me back to the days I knew then”, thank you, no. I have mulled it over and I have no desire to return.

Yeah, I’m older and I’m better. I’m worse too, the physical thing. I have that aspect of my life under control. It’s a non issue in the older/better sense.

The better not older campaign was aimed at the preoccupation with aging and death. That preoccupation is still with us. If you can give someone something they can rationalize a condition with, they just may.

If quarterbacking from the armchair and reliving whatever your “Glory Days” were and are, you can. Being the intelligent donkey I am, I’d say enjoy your retirement!

I’m telling you, if stronger and better is what you want to have as you move through life, then you gotta be engaged in life. Why? Why because that’s how it works.

When people tell you that your style or something you’ve done reminds them of the greatest of dead poets, you know you’ve achieved your goal of someday being one of them.

Try wrapping your head around this one. I knew it when I first started writing poetry. Monetary returns, never a real concern. I write for me and share. I happen to think some of my stuff is gonna live forever.

I don’t expect to realize the full glory until 150 years after I’m dead.

No, no, no, don’t fret for me!

I will be checking back to see if I’m correct. What!? You don’t think someone as glorious as I wouldn’t be able to check back and see what y’all are up to. Not a question.

G.R. Hambley ©
July 31st, 2017

Curios

Curios

Curios

Curios

Mine is mine and to each their own
so whom are we to pass judgement

One’s choices predicated upon
by how you my dear individual perceive

Reapers, the purveyors of goods grim
honouring both dollar and ritual

But just because you can
does it mean you should indulge the macabre

Incendiary with a highly volatile fuse
fostering unspoken mortification

Done from love by loss
as inherently personal as love’s little death

Memories tactile, both taking away
and in embracing the pain

Open wide to holding up a mirror
reflection upon your hurting self

Morbid, magnificent, maudlin, majestic
what else could be said of selections such

Each and every with their unique curio
memory memorabilia a curious thing

Nature ‘tis of we mournful beasts
displaying in so many ways

Turning cheek, both other and off if you please
my crass, your cats ass

One tap, two tap, three, forever remains in me

G.R. Hambley ©
June 01, 2017

I made an error in formatting on the original post. The error is now corrected. The poetry has not changed.

A Marine Passes

A Marine Passes

At 1:58 am on 15 May, 2017 an American Marine passed on. To some that man was and will always be, more than a Marine.

Being a United States Marine didn’t define what the man was. Being a Marine was a part of what made up the whole man.

The man had a tough go before the irony that is the illness that eventually took his life got him. Irony in abundance. He fought the good fight with dignity and grace. Never gave up. I’m sure he thought of it as we all would in that situation. He carried on out of a love of life and family. The duty he believed was owed to himself and his family.

No one would have faulted him had he chose to move along to the next plain of his own volition. He endured that much. He cared that much to soldier on.

This man was given the last rites in Vietnam. He was subjected to derision at the very least for having gone to Vietnam when he returned home. He came home with issues and worked on those issues.

Much later on in life, he was stricken with cancer and the belief is that “Agent Orange” was the culprit. There’s your irony. It took his own country to do what the enemy couldn’t.

A number of years ago that man and I were out somewhere when I was down in Rhode Island working out some of my own issues. I do remember it was winter and damn cold.

We were walking up to the door after getting home and I asked him, “Knowing what you know, would you do it again”. This is one of those you had to be there moments. The man knew my question didn’t come out of anything but interest in how he felt and what he thought.

“Knowing what you know, would you do it again” and the reply was, “My country called”.

Not another word was spoken between us. We both knew and understood what was in the answer.

Three words made up a “you had to be there” moment. I cannot convey everything that was in those three words. You had to see the man when he said, “My country called”. I could tell you about it so you could see and understand. I can’t write what I saw that day because no amount of words is going to be able to describe that moment properly.

I spoke of that moment a couple times with people in conversation because it fit with what we were talking about. I never told anyone about this encounter that is close to the man. The conversation was between him and me and except for those few instances, that is where it stayed.

Toughest man I ever knew. One of the best men I’ve ever known too.

Semper Fi, definitely. Character, absolutely.

Francis “Frank” Connors is survived by my cousin Karen, son Eli, daughters Shannon, Sandra and Michelle. Grandchildren, more family, others who love him and by what is now, a grateful nation.

Gary Hambley, May 15, 2017

Community; Mine

Community; Mine

Souls old, souls new, souls lost, some hoping desperately to be found
Philosophers, perambulators and pals, the odd sniff of pretention
Hims and hers, some that are, quite honestly, deeply confused
Every face, should you care, bringing a unique study in story

Retro and metro, and for others, the splendour that is sartorial
Eye on a passing thigh and my oh my is that Rebel Circus I spy
Open minds, open hearts, open conversations and well who knew
Faces from faraway places, happily in a space that has no races

Accountants, Aides to Teaching, but if you can’t say without preaching
Cups of coffee, gallons of conversation and Sugar when it’s Psunday*
Quips and quills, more than a few spills, splotches of great delusion
Untold stories, stories shared, stories that will be woven by me

Aged, ageless, those just beginning to write their journey for the ages
In they tromp, costumed and not, cute as buttons, kids enjoying theatre
New ones in 21st century jolly jumpers, jump dad jump, gee thanks mom
Thespians, orators, of both the professional and amateur ranks rant

As life goes on all around you, yours for the sharing, it’s no illusion
Names and faces, you come to know, as you do enjoyment grows
Contacts, connections, conversations in confidence, all do ensue
Elves wearing bells bearing versions of coffee, catch me one if you can

G.R. Hambley ©
May 09, 2017

Heartless – Lyric

Heartless

Lyric

It begins again in confusion
Some kind of grand illusion
Where it ends there’s no real telling
It’ll come without warning
I’ll be gone
leaving you quietly wondering
So why we starting this story?

It carries on in its fashion
Some nights of grand passion
When it ends there’s no real telling
It’ll come some morning
I’ll be gone
leaving you quietly crying
So why we turning this page?

It fails with a head on collision
Some words of persuasion
Why it ends is because it’s suffocating
It’ll come without you ever believing
I’ll be gone
leaving you quietly hating
So why we playing this romance novel?

I’m gone and… you’re crying
I’m gone and… you’re wondering
I’m gone and… you’re hating
I’m gone and… you had the heartless warning

G.R. Hambley ©
May 05, 2017