Songs I Sing. B. Germain Reynolds

picture,

      Pretty colors captured in a square

      Telling a story, capturing a mood

      A still moment caught in a shot

      An expression, movement, frozen

      In time

      In pose

      Serious subjects, playful pets

      Cute babies, awed parents

      Tall men, curvy women

      Wise elders keeping watch

      The secret of wisdom

      Rheumy in their eyes.

      In counterpoint

      Energetic youth darting by

      Their focus on the object

      Of social access

      At their fingertips

      Addictive in their gaze

      Senses blocked

      Another device

      Carried in their ear

      Bringing the continuous music

      Of the day

      Outlawed in a year

      Its constant stream

      Competing with dreams

      Framed in context

      A culture hallowing

      Personality

      Opinion

      Trends

      Sound bites

      Sowing seeds each pixel

      Of doubt

      Of despair

      Of competition

      Of discontent

      With the next big thing

      Coming at us fast

      Telling us insidiously

      We are not who God made

      Creatures of praise

      Poise and beauty

      Intelligent by design

      And so it goes.

      A purse,

      My signature piece

      All my essentials in one place

      Odds and ends

      For writing, for reading

      For paying, or using credit

      For keeping in touch

      A handkerchief

      Tissues

      Candy and gum

      The sour kind, sugarless

      A snack or two

      No peanuts

      Or ketchup

      No sharp objects

      Or open pens

      One will irritate

      My allergies grave

      The other aggravate

      My cravings

      One causes pain

      The others stain.

      Hygiene items

      Tucked in discretely

      Personal pieces

      Hidden in the seam

      Placed there

      Deliberately

      To protect

      From instant view

      Ready access

      In case my partner

      Needs a check-in

      To my psyche

      That day.

      If I change them

      With the outfit

      To mix and match

      With my mood

      To facilitate

      The errand

      The event

      The season.

      Their pastime

      Parading past prime

      Applauding the brave

      Watching

      Time disappears

      Into a long-ass day

      Featuring

      Panic

      Anxiety

      Accomplishment

      Checked boxes

      Merging and mingling

      My sense of style

      Somewhat traditional

      Leery of the fad

      Choosing the classic

      Yielding to comfort

      Going big

      Opting for tiny

      Making a statement

      It’s just a thing

      Not my truth;

      Judge me

      If you must

      On the merits

      Of my mantras

      On the heat in my tone

      At the outrage du jour

      Sitting on the fence

      Or standing for right

      Or closing my mind

      To another way

      To skin the cat

      To view the world

      Walking the tightrope

      Of an era

      In history

      When facts are fluid

      And fiction is currency

      Yesterday’s norms

      Today’s modes

      Compete for my grip

      Against my heart

      Across my body

      Over my shoulder

      Around my waist

      Bouncing with each step

      Secure on my person

      Hiding my stuff

      As I stride through life

      Holding my peace

      And so it goes.

      Firesome

      Where was the forest for the fire; wild

      Smoke climbing up to heaven

      Like the cries of the weary; black

      Putrid, devoid of form

      Spelling nothing, hiding life; thick

      Clouding man’s vision

      Leaving in its path

      Waste

      Wonder

      Woe.

      If the trees had refused to grow; tall

      Their