SMOKING WITH JOE
Joe said it was rubbish
I agreed, but then he said –
No, I meant it was rubbishy.
What’s the difference?, I asked
But he didn’t reply.
I need a cigarette, he then said
Who is going to oblige?
They stunt your growth Joe,
I replied, measuring him casually
With my trained carpenter’s eye
Tall he was, a redwood among men
He could do with some stunting, I thought
Pulling a pack from my jacket pocket.
Here, take two, I said,
They’re very small
Do you know something? he said
When he had one going –
The other one stuck safely behind a rather large ear
If I had a pound for every fag I smoked
I’d be a very wealthy man.
OP’s you mean, I remarked.
OP’S, he looked insulted
I wouldn’t touch them with a barge pole!.
NORTH CAROLINA TREES
Tall pines, straight as railway sleepers,
Stun me with their skinny beauty
Some of these were old
When Abraham Lincoln was barely knee high.
And it is even possible that George Washington
Touched one or two as he rode by.
Durham was young when these pines first sprouted life
As were Raleigh, Charlotte, and Queensboro et al
Perhaps it was the Redcoats who seeded this lush terrain
Beauty shipped all the way
From England’s green and pleasant land
To conceal the carnage of their long and murderous campaign.
THE GREEN FORGOTTEN VALLEYS
Those green forgotten valleys,
No longer can be seen
Lying hidden behind the tall fir and larch
That have made these brown hills green
Relentlessly marching down the hills
Burying everything in their wake
The dead are long gone from this place
The pike no longer in the lake
The houses just hollow shells now
Where the past ghosts eerily through
The vacant windows and doors
With rotted frames and jambs that once were new.
Back then there was no silence, only the sound
Of human laughter, and bird-calls to each other
The dogs growling at a wayward sheep.
And children’s scrapes kissed better by their mother
Nature is having the last laugh now
Soon there will be no trace of us at all
As the trees come marching down the hillside
No one hears the lonesome curlew’s call.
Maybe it was a dream I once had
This part of Ireland with no lights on
A place where strangers
Looked over the border
With razor-blade eyes
Where tall trees swayed South
From one vast plantation
And bowler-hatted drum-bangers
Stomped the streets like toy soldiers.
A game – perhaps that was it;
Where the lowest common denominator
Was religion…or the lack of it.
Oh yeah? And I flew over the cuckoo’s nest last night!
It’s a strange title; actually it’s a website, where you can promote your ebooks. For a fee, naturally. One day costs 20 bucks; 5 days 60 bucks. 5 days sounds a good deal, huh; that way you only lose 12 bucks a day!
Obiously you don’t promote the book yourself, they do the promoting for you;
1…Book featured on the eBooks GROW ON TREES website
2…Book featured in the eBooksGOT Newsletter, emailed daily 3…Book mentioned on Twitter, daily
4…Book mentioned on Facebook, daily
Hmm…a couple of those you could do yourself, so in theory you could save yourself 50% of your outlay!
Now, selling prices; you have 3 options; FREE, 99c, $2.99
Hmm…I’m going to run that by myself one more time; let’s say I choose the FREE option for 5 days; say I sell 100 books during that period.
total outlay $60….total returns $0.00
Even with the 99c option you are going to have to sell over 60 books just to break even
Yeah, that’s a good deal – a sure-fire winner. OR IS IT LOSER
PERHAPS IT SHOULD BE RE-NAMED THE MONEY TREE!