Your lissome regrets

Harbour no sails

As I groom you to know

I am not equal to your love

I sustain

You envelope

Me in your lusting

For More.

I wonder at my name

Prince William of Brit

For never shall I know

How you found me

Alone as a knave

Now my wish has been

Granted. I have found

A Tommy but you are

The swell I have been

Swimming for.

Lift me up so I surf

The Kalahari again

Resist not

Dear Kate

You are the timely

Saint of my

Longing. B


COPYRIGHT Bruce E Saunders 2020

My teacher’s voice in the classroom

of hate

like a predator drone as I gazed out the window.



She couldn’t stop it, this hate,

for it was a solvent in use

to gain a respite

from the world of known

things called the right

of realtime examining

of cause and effects.



There is no right and wrong

in the boundless energies of

timely being.



There is a time for it to be

here and they want it now.



It’s not what my mind thinks

it’s what my mind does

it bends over backwards

and over the loop de loop

for you.



And your understanding

of the crisis at hand.



By the morrow it shall be

over but for the sorrowing

anger of you and your

sinning breaths.




These are the days when I feel the most

The time is right for a most

Timeous intervention on me

Anyone called Mari would

Understand I am in an

Unhappiness buzz right now

So don’t tell me to sort it out

Mail me a note that I might explain

How the loss of my mother still

Affects me since she drowned in the sea

And I won’t swim anymore.

The whole colour of life has changed

And no structure has introduced the noose

To the onstage performance.

These shadowless days – I run away

But I can’t escape.

Copyright B E Saunders

We can be as nice as we like to each other

Because we barely touch

Over the ether there is no pain

But this is a time

Of all can see and do

Therefore it is about the wend of the world

Not the why.

It is about the when of the war

Not the why.

It is about the why of connectivity in search

Of an ideal communication network

That will surpass the event of the Second Coming and

Shout, No! and stop the recreation of Man

Known as the communistic play for time

Not the euphemistic play on words.

Life is not going to be.  It is going to

C and C is the sharp one at the end of the scale.

It will not be shatter-able it will be shatter-proof and unso


Copyright B E Saunders 2016


For Isolated_girl, Nepal

Part 2

I couldn’t help but grin.  She was a very good looking girl with dark curls that she kept cut short, caramel skin and a sleight figure, and definitely Arabic, which meant to me that she was strictly conservative.  Especially with that headscarf.

I decided this could be fun and hesitated suggestively, looking around.  The table was perched on the corner outside Lambretta’s, a small club at night and a washed out coffee shop by day, on North Parade just two blocks down the road from the copshop.  You can find it on Googlemaps.

She waited patiently then looked away, with a resigned look on her face.  I felt instantly that I was losing her and spoke quickly.

“Maybe.  I’m not sure what you want.  It’s not something I carry around on me, you understand?  What is it you want, Sweetheart?”  Now that I had let her know I had what she was looking for…I could wind up.  Let’s play a little with the sugarplum.

Aaah!  The coffee was good this morning.

Her accent was soft but she knew what she wanted.  “I’m looking for a key.” A kilo.