Spy Journal 3.0 Filtering the web for you

This poem was written to my wife in the year 2000. It speaks for itself.

Subtitled My Bride

I really am a good guy you know

I just didn’t understand the meaning of go slow

I took no prisoners, made all the fast breaks

I didn’t realise I was making mistakes

I chipped all the corners, scratched all the edges

Like a maniac attacking a pair of box hedges

Without concern for the bed I was making

I roused up the dragon, from sleep she was waking

Like lightning striking from a clear cloudless sky

I was hit! “why me?” was my responsive cry

“what did I do?” or “was it my lack?”

but no answer was forthcoming back

I pleaded, cajoled, ranted and raved

It was like talking to oneself in an empty cave

The dragon lay brooding, considering my case

And I unaware was making mistakes

I should have known better, should have learnt from the past

But sometimes that’s tricky when life’s going so fast

To take time to think – why how would that leave

Time for the rest when you live life at speed

The answer came like a brick from the sky

Smote me on the forehead, right between the eyes

Just shut your big gob and listen you lout

Maybe that way some things you’d find out

About this passionate warm loving creature

She isn’t a dragon just about to eat you

But rather a fragrance, a gentle breeze

The sort that can appear then disappear with ease

To find her is rewarding, like uncovering treasure

She’s challenging, my mate, she’s sure got my measure

And if I take the time and effort to discover

She’ll probably morph into a passionate lover

I guess what I'm saying is that it’s not always easy

Sometimes I live like everything’s breezy

I really should be stopping to think and to ponder

How I can nurture my soul mate and wonder

Why do I hurt her when I only ever

Want to love her with all my endeavours

This lady this special girl by my side

Hey there gorgeous, will you still be my bride?

© 2000 Timothy Miller

I wrote this in 1999. I have no memory of writing it, or the circumstances that led to writing such painful words. I am absolutely sure it was not about my wife – I suspect it may have been about a friend who had some massive issues at that time.

Anyway here it is.

Done It Again

Words like twisted, painful and bitter

Aren't the words for a passionate lover

How I feel is broken and battered

Rejected, despised - I think I've been worked over

You set me up

I gave you my time, my heart, my caring

You said our love was honest and daring

After all my heartfelt devotion

You filled my head with violent emotion

You set me up

You lied, you cheated, you told me it was nothing

My friends all saw that I was hurting

I laughed it off and tried to ignore them

I squashed down the pain and tried not to listen

You set me up for a broken heart

© Timothy Miller 1999

Continuing to post my poetry online. This poem was written during a period selling Amway in 1999.

There was a young man from Coonabarabran

Who lived with his grandma and great aunty Nan

He went to work and sweated all day

While they stayed at home and spent all his pay

This state of affairs did continue to exist

Until the day he decided to resist

He said this job is driving me crazy

And grandma and Nan are just plain lazy

I know what to do he jumped up and said

If you want to do something to get ahead

Go meet some people – go say gidday

Get paid for shopping – just join Amway

He went to a meeting and got all fired up

He dreamed a dream – saw the winner’s cup

And now he lives a fun life each day

And grandma and Nan can’t spend all his pay

There’s so much money and so much time

And this line of the poem just has to rhyme

He’s going diamond and having a ball

The secret was dreaming and not thinking small

© Timothy Miller 1999

A poem crafted in a workshop at www.thehighcalling.org retreat in Texas November 2014.
We were given the sentence "I don't know what to say" and told to add two additional sentences.

a medical chart with a flat line
i didn't know what to say
white flowers falling into an open grave

My thoughts as this poem came into existence were around my friend Ian who had suffered 3 heart attacks earlier this year and I had visited him in intensive care. I had thought at the time that would be the last time I would ever see him. He has currently survived.

And some photos from our time here.