Perfect Disparity

Where he goes she follows still.

Quo vadis? This her way,

Though guidance lacks illumination,

Direction gone astray.

Dimly lit the forest path,

Crescent slits dark blue,

Myriad beacons lost in night,

Light years unfiltered through.

Stars above cannot conceive

Of empty hollow space.

Should she now lead where he may go?

Alternate human race.

Or side by side,

In step, in tune,

Guided by

Night’s brightest moon

And daylight’s orb;

Disparate norm.

Day and night,

In perfect form.

‘What Do Women Want?’

Now Suz, you have nailed it, as a female with a mind,

Experience in womanhood. Men must seek and so they’ll find

That much of what a woman wants is tethered to the stars.

I know they say that we hail from Venus while men exist on Mars.

 

A cosmic soul comparison to highlight different spheres,

A lifetime spent in wondering, overcoming fears.

But planets should collide in space in some ethereal way

And, on earth, we bump together too but all men have to say, is

 

‘Darling, what’s your heart’s desire? Tell me, I will try.

I’ll promise love eternally and search until I die,

To overcome your subtleties, learn to read your clues,

Endeavour to be true all days, pay what is your due.

 

I’ll harness stars and catch the moon, remove obstacles in our path,

I’ll humour you when you are blue, I’ll try to make you laugh.

I’ll even buy you personals when Christmas comes along,

I’ll sing to you with lover’s voice and soothe you with my song.

 

Is that enough to win your heart? What more, please, pray me tell,

Guessing at your nuances, men don’t do that very well.’

Now that’s a start, if men are willing to read the woman’s book,

They’ll tell you if you really ask. And listen, that’s the hook.

 

‘You’ve said it all, that’s all I ask. Willingness to show,

Hidden voice within my head, you’re trying to understand and know.

Woo me with a sense of worth, seasons full of longing,

Ensure your heart is open wide, a place I may belong in.

 

Answer me in sentences, not cryptic yes or no’s.

We use our words expressively, while your dearth quite often shows

That what we’re trying to say to you goes right over your head.

Then we lose the plot at you and you wonder what you said.

 

The point you see is you don’t say much to express all that is real

You seem to think we should absorb, osmosis-like, what you feel.

To you, a word or two should do, a nod or gesture feint

To speak your love, exact desires. It doesn’t work! Not quaint!

 

Exactitude in what you feel, expressed in tender giving,

From heart and soul and mind as well; Woman’s way for living.

Just a thought or two for you. Hope it’s not too much.

That it doesn’t blow your mind wide open at all that mush and such

 

Anti-male, Jessie-like, entrapments for the ‘soft’.

Not soft at all but strength it shows; we’ll hold you so aloft

If all that you convey to us is done with purest love

And sensual thrown in, for good measure. That might just be enough!’

 

No more I’ll say. I’m telling you, women speak in heaps,

But not all we say is heeded, a pity, it would keep

Unnecessary confusion from cluttering up our way.

Openness and honesty might help to win the day.

 

Remember though that truthfulness, although a wondrous gift,

Should not be used when she asks, ‘Does my bum look big in this?’

A gentle smile, no smirks, not wise, if you want to keep your teeth.

See, it’s all quite easy. Next question, if you please!

Preconceptions

Ah’m no’ hard.

Ah’m no’ even that tough.

Bit ye see, Ah come fae Glesca,

So that seems tae be enough,

To send some people scurrying

Right off their mark,

Terrified I’ll chib them,

Attack them in the dark.

Bit ye see, it’s jist an accent,

‘Cos ah come fae this place

Jist lik you’ve got wan,

Mibbe nicer. Bit still an accent.

An’ a face.

Ah could dae Irish fur ye,

That sounds awright.

Ah’ve always liked that yin,

‘Cos it disnae gie ye a fright.

Or mibbe the Highlands cos

They sing a wee song,

Makes ye want tae dance

As if ye belang.

Or ‘ow about ze French?

I ‘ope eet’s not too bad

Been a leetle while seence I practeesed

So eet might sound a trifle mad.

But ah’m no’ fae they places

Ah’m fae Glesca, awright?

An’ ma voice is jist a voice

Wi’ an accent that’s no’ too polite.

A helluva wie tae judge people though,

Lookin’ at faces an’

Listenin’ as if ye could know

Whit they’re aboot,

Like ye know them so well,

Rubbish that is,

A terrible wie tae foretell

A person’s character, their

Values, their worth.

Makin’ judgements ‘cos folk are different.

Who dis that kinda stuff?

Ah’m no’ hard, ah’m tellin’ ye,

Jist a Glesca lassie that’s aw.

Inherited my accent

Fae ma da an’ ma maw.

Bit they always tellt me,

No matter yer station,

‘mind yer as good

As the rest ae the nation.

A message ah learnt

When ah wis jist wee

No’ tae judge others

‘cos ae where they’re fae.