It is raining on a Tuesday, I am not yet out of bed.

Just laying here and thinking about this and that you said.

I know I must get up soon, the beast she must be fed.

Or I could just ignore it all and just keep on lying here instead.

A weekend party at the hen house. There was troubles at the start.

But the hammer dropped at midnight. When some knees did slightly part.

The headmistress Trunchbull shouted. She was sitting high upon her horse.

Screams ‘we must keep them far apart.’ To the answer, “Of course… Of course.”

The ambulance left at daybreak… Without the sirens on.

The parting shot was a final dance… From the sprinklers on the lawn.

It is Monday in the village, the birds have woke at dawn.

The town crier has gone silent, there is nothing going on.

Except that Ivan’s at the cottage, and that cousin Bonnie died.

The twins have lost their business and all the male-feminists lied.

There’s nothing new in Parkdale that Jason will not scream.

He lost his mind in Halifax and has joined the Parkdale team.

Dennis Mantin

A weekend without Baba.

She’s gone away to play.

Can say I’m thankful for the rest.

I still miss her anyway.

A weekend without my baby.

She’s at the beach with friends.

My heart is full of worries.

Some say that never ends.

Early morning on a Friday, the air is dry and cool.

Saw Kevin at the Rosemount, and the wise men canceled school.

The city is still building, and the dump trucks form a line.

The drivers are all counting on the one that holds the sign.

The walkers of the dogs, they are bending at their hips.

Cleaning up what they will with smiles on their lips.

She had a voice like mother… with a low sweet cadence drawl.

The kind that makes one shudder like a noose before the fall.

I searched for strength to hold back. I didn’t know how or what.

She caught me in that moment where I tried and failed to shut.

I wasn’t sure her motive, however I felt that it was planned.

I lost my will to say goodbye and then I lost my will to stand.

I left things as they started, all bright eyed and confused.

I left alone with my life more black and blue than bruised.

There’s been a drama at the main stage. The spotlight wouldn’t shine.

There were voices shouting in the dark. And one of them was mine.

Diogenous was laughing. With a cynics point of view.

Alexander left his seat, like the great ones often do.

The Narcissists all shuddered, the understudy soared.

He drank straight from the bottle. No wine was spilled or poured.

It’s payday at the Gulag… There are smiles raining down.

The dealers here, peddling dreams. Anticipation is the sound.

It’s chaos until midnight. When Cinderella hears a moan.

She was in the Masters Chamber, but she thought she was alone.

It’s over like it started. Alarm clocks ring at dawn.

We wake like it’s all over… It’s just the money that’s all gone.

Waiting…

Standing by

Always Waiting.

Years go by.

Forever waiting.

It is what I do.

All this waiting.

But not for you.

Dennis Mantin

It took awhile getting used to being alone… I was young with a mind that raced with far to many questions and an over abundance of fears.

I long for the solitude now and the quiet to be able read or paint or even go for a massage depending on the mood.

I have found in general people to be far to troublesome and noisy to be worth the time… however; every now and then, someone comes along and makes me laugh and just for the briefest of moments I forget most of my negative views on humanity…