Feelings Shared: Poems: Lyrical, Thoughtful & Humorous

By Michael Braham Gerstein

“This volume is a broad mixture of subjects, in lyrical, thoughtful and humorous moods.
From a feeling, [ not from the news ] like a surf wave, powerful or gentle, I flow through the work
If it’s a strong feeling, writing is fast. Most times it’s slow, laborious editing.
I sometimes make notes.

I don’t appreciate modern poetry.
This is my own work. I copy no one. I love writing!

Several poems are short stories. They contain a variety of windows into the imagination and fantasy. The thoughtful ones may arouse talking points.”

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris UK
• Release date: Jul 29, 2019
• ISBN: 9781984590893

Michael Braham Gerstein

“I am from a business family. But I am an artist and writer. [ Comedy, short stories, plays and song lyrics ] Ex teacher / Graphic Designer. I am emotional, sensitive and practical, in a business like way. I find all the poetry and songs about love too much. And it’s a multi layered feeling, not just one dimensional I write on relationship, but enjoy covering a wider range of subjects. There’s so much more out there. What excites me? The Arts, Film musicals, Fred Astaire, Judy Garland, jazz rhythm, rhyming, Marc Chagall, Chopin and the Quintette du Hot Club de France.”

Book preview

Copyright © 2019 by Michael Braham Gerstein.

ISBN:              Softcover                  978-1-9845-9090-9

                        eBook                       978-1-9845-9089-3

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 07/29/2019

Xlibris

800-056-3182

www.Xlibrispublishing.co.uk

798873

CONTENTS

RELATIONSHIPS

SOME PEOPLE ARE MAGIC

THE DELI CONFLICT

BRIEF ENCOUNTER

EVERY LITTLE MOVEMENT

OUR LOVE SANK

PLAY ME, SWAY ME

GENEALOGY APOLOGY?

GOSH, I SIMPLY ADORE YOU!

HURTING HEART

JOHN THE LAMP

[HOW TO ’TURN A LAMP ON’]

INTOXICATION

LOVING BEING

ON GROWING OLD

PARIS WEEKEND

PROJECTING LOVE

PINING AND DENIAL

STRAIGHTEN OUT

TO MY FATHER

THE MOUSE AND THE COWBOY

ROOM FOR IMPROVEMENT?

SAY IT TO THEIR FACE

SEARCHING

MORNING THOUGHTS

YOU SAID IT

A SIMPLE HEARTED LIFE

‘FOOD’

FRENCH CONVERSATION LESSON

GLIDE INTO LOVE

ERIKA LEAVING

GABBY LEAVING

TO SOMEONE

OVERTAKING YOUTH

WITHOUT YOU

IN A STEW

A MIXED BAG OF ISSUES

‘THE BEE’S KNEES’

ANIMAL HARM

BULLIES AND BEETROOT SOUP

‘CHANGE THE SUBJECT’

CONTRASTS

DEALING WITH IT

DIRTYING THE DISH [OR DISHING THE DIRT]

DON’T LOSE SLEEP

DONKEY DESPAIR

DROPPING STONES

EMBRACEABLE WORLD

ESCAPING THE NEWS

FIGHTING HARD

GOB SMACKED

GROWTH AND CHANGE [THEN AND NOW]

‘HERE’S HOW IT IS’

HOW CAN WE TALK ABOUT LOVE

I DON’T KNOW, CAN’T SAY.

IF BIRDS COULD HEAR

‘IT’S IRREVERSIBLE’

JUXTAPOSITIONS

MAIL ORDER SCAM

NOSING AROUND

‘NOT THE BEES KNEES’

‘OKAY, DO IT YOUR WAY’

ON A LOVELY SPRING DAY I THOUGHT………..

ONE LIFE IS NOT ENOUGH

ORGANIZED RELIGION

PRACTICAL AND DREAMY

REDUNDANT

SONG OF MY HEART

THE HATE DEBATE

THE EUROPE DEBATE

THEY GET AWAY WITH IT

WHAT WILL IT TAKE

WHO ARE YOU KIDDING!

WIN THE BATTLE [FREE WRITE]

UP THE KHYBER PASS

PLATFORMS

NATURE AND NEWS

LIKES AND DISLIKES

ALIVE POETRY AND EMPTINESS

PURE LOVE INSIDE

RIGHT NOW

GOOD AND BAD NEWS

MODERN NOISE TOO MUCH!

CHANGE THE SUBJECT

THE CARDBOARD BOX [CHOICES]

HUMOUR

A FOOL IN LOVE

[OR, A FALL IN LOVE]

ISN’T LIFE FUN!

MY EARLY CAREER

EXPOSIN’ THE HIGGS BOSON [PARTICLE PHYSICS]

QUESTIONED QUOTE

‘SHOPPING!’

SLEEP

SHORT SLEEP

SPEAK YOUR MIND

THE WEATHER

XMAS PEACE MESSAGE

UNDER THE WEATHER

ANIMAL PHRASES

COMPLAINTS TO A SUPERIOR

TIME DIARY

MY ORDER

COULD HAVE BEEN

IS THE GRASS IS ALWAYS GREENER?

STEVEN THE CHEF IS LEAVING

POETICAL POLITICAL

LAUGHTER IN SLAUGHTER

LAUGHTER AND S - LAUGHTER PART 2

GEOMETRIC HEARTACHE

HOLIDAYS

FINAL MEDLEY

LOOKING ACROSS THE HEATH

‘BEAUTY AND PAIN’

MUSIC AND NOISE

VANITIES

POST MODERN CULTURE

LIFE ITSELF

‘NOISE’

CHOPIN

THE HAPPY ROOM

THE BATTLE

THE MAGIC GARDEN

SCENTED FLOWERS

RAINBOW RIDES

LOVE OR BE DEAD!

SUMMER!

NINETEEN FORTY FIVE

PENCIL POINT

NOSTALGIC MEMORIES

ANTIBES

Dedicated to Asif

Relationships

SOME PEOPLE ARE MAGIC

Some people are magic;

those people I like.

A beautiful quality lies in some;

a constant vibration, like a distant drum.

This lady hovers through life,

sensing those who need her;

responding to someone down in luck,

with caring strings that we can pluck.

She often stops and sits

with those stuck in cold, dark, airless pits;

or sliding on a greasy slope.

She shares some common sense,

some care, some warmth; she gives hope

to fan the beaten flame;

an angel of mercy in all but name.

Some people have poetry in their being;

a beauty like an Autumn Fall.

Some are selfless, giving

like an invisible, hypnotic bird call.

Some have shimmering beauty like the Milky Way.

With common sense and far seeing

they spray our fog and fears away.

This lady caresses through life,

smoothing the edges of our strife.

Some things are so natural, so true;

they can make you feel fresh, feel new.

Like rainbows or the changing skies.

Such a one comes from a place near Russia.

Our own reliable, efficient and wonderful Gosha!!

2017

THE DELI CONFLICT

Meet a good looking, working class boy;

but a hobbledehoy of the hoi polloi.

Yet being pleasant

he worked at an upmarket delicatessen

in the smoked salmon, salami and pate counter.

A pretty girl came in with her mama

from time to time.

They had these brief encounters.

She was hoity - toity,

broad brimmed hatted,

black hair plaited,

with a silver pochette strapped across her shoulder.

At a finishing school posh,

yet she would still say,

Jolly good, and, Oh gosh.

They learned needlework, cooking,

riding, French and wrote poems.

Then, the wealthy were reluctant

to invite the hoi polloi into their homes.

Fraternization was frowned upon.

She would encourage;

the boy, would implicitly encroach.

She would tease viciously,

he would illicitly poach.

She gave him toffee nose glances

which would turn the light down on his romantic chances.

When they would chat

he was more than suspicious that

she was more than a bit supercilious factitious.

She gave him a snobby, disinterested look

when he told her

he had won some money in a game of chance!

At last he had enough of this disingenuous stuff.

One day, her tum turned to jelly

when the boy banned her and mama from the deli.

Yes, he had actually won millions

and bought the shop!

He hadn’t told her at first;

he wanted to see if she was genuine or a flop.

The boy banned her for adopting a superior pose.

and for looking at him down her nose.

For teasing him mercilessly

and leading him on fictitiously!

He loved HER, not for her wealthy station.

But she used him to play with;

a pawn to make him feel his inferior position.

He kicked her out

the superior one NOW, no doubt.

There’s irony in there somewhere!

BRIEF ENCOUNTER

Her curl of lip and cherished eyes,

he, refined, polite;

a love that burns so bright,

the flame then stubbed out against a wall and dies.

a love affair that should not have started.

Their love a few weeks then torn and parted.

In the film ‘Brief Encounter’

they met by chance

almost too painful to watch

Rachmaninoff’s music underlines

the poignant romance.

The humdrum railway station is a

cool witness to such intense passion and joy.

You hear the music in concert and it’s great.

But added to their hopeless love

it pours out the conflict in exquisite state.

David Lean’s camera work in black and white

illustrates the light and dark of the affair.

The lights the shadows at night ooze passion

and heartache longings

As in Lean’s ‘Great Expectations’

the opening dramatic windy scene

screams out lurking danger, menace

with gaunt bare black trees

and waving branches like murderous fingers

against a moody sky.

In Brief Encounter, we see the allure

of housewife, Celia Johnson and

the easy going civility of doctor Trevor Howard.

Both married.

They are caught up in an affair

which they realize can go nowhere

11. 11. 17.

EVERY LITTLE MOVEMENT

On Remembrance Day,

I’m sick to the hilt, aren’t we all,

with all suffering and wars.

It may sound absurd, but I want to word

an extreme contrast.

We’ve been asked to write on the Movies.

I’ve chosen a scene

which has to be seen to be believed.

It is five minutes of utter breathlessness;

a moment of hushed poetry;

as the stillness of pure Life expectations before dawn

Yet, it was filmed in Hollywood, during World War Two,

with all of war’s horror, blood and death!!

Scenario: a 19 year old, Lily Mars, from a backwater town,

wants to be an actress in the city.

She hitches to New York and hides in the theatre,

where she plans to audition for the producer.

Nowhere to go, at night, she sleeps on the theatre floor,

wrapped up in her determined dreams.

So, here’s the scene:

a cleaner, Frankie, comes on stage, sweeping.

She hears Lily, and says she must leave.

Not allowed.

Unbowed, Lily says she’s here to audition for the producer.

Frankie relents, and tells Lily her story;

how, once she was a big star,

but now still prefers to be in the theatre, even as a cleaner.

Lily listens in awe and baited breath.

They both wink in mutual understanding.

Then Frankie sings, Every Little Movement;

a beautiful little song, and Lily joins in.

They slowly move in unison.

This scene, so quiet, so loving, gets me everytime.

Takes my breath away, but also gives me breath;

the breath and strength to carry on.

Such works of Art are the islands which appear

above our vast ocean of Life below.

Why can’t all Life be so pure and still, free from horror!!

2001

OUR LOVE SANK

Sitting by the river on the South Bank,

We threw our coke cans in the water,

And watched as our love sank.

Filled with tea and cakes from the cafeteria;

but she soon became filled with hysteria.

We walked in conflict across the bridge,

but failed to bridge our gap.

On a beach, with friends, round a midnight fire,

the drink and songs softened our hearts,

and our love rose a flame higher.

Visiting her parents we had a choice;

a return flight in a day,

or a drive and overnight stay.

And we realized once again that

the passion in our love, also, could go either way.

We passed the Cenotaph,

Remembering that our love too could die.

So we could not quite close the door.

For, we had been through too much peace and war.

2017

PLAY ME, SWAY ME

Play me, sway me;

help unwrap my purple dreams.

Like diversions, they interfere and end up only schemes

Clear the road work, clarity is the aim.

Clear out confusing pathways from my grey, addled brain.

I can almost see a bright green landscape,

stretching in yellow field patchwork.

Clear blue sky, white clouds, an orange sun;

miles away from being a bored office clerk

In other words clear out the cluttered mind.

Eliminate enough till a clear yourself you find.

It’s not enough to untangle blackened knots.

The landscape must be yours, just you;

the you you have forgot.

And start to love the you that’s true

With dotted fields of forget - me - nots.

2000

GENEALOGY APOLOGY?

My ancestors made their escape

to avoid burning at the stake,

for selling fake jewels to the King.

So began my family’s criminal wing!

Since which fun, they’ve been on the run.

But I make no apology for my genealogy.

You may be aghast,

but what is past is past.

No apology for my family lies,

or Mafia ties;

They tied their flag to the mast.

Actually the crime began long before,

in some Egyptian war.

My ancestors, Joseph and his brothers,

sold the Pharaoh some rocket launchers, amongst others!

Due to a shortage of weapons crisis,

they did a shady deal with the Egyptian God Isis.

At bulk discount, by passing trade rules,

they were paid for the weapons in high value jewels.

This led to the current bad world economy!

These origins

are from the horrid genes

of my family.

They later became pirates on the high seas!

So blame my crooked brothers and the sly Egyptian Isis.

Way down my family lines, in Medieval times,

a young male relation needed a life station.

He was wed to a rich young