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Hilltop View

By Earnest Long

Copyright 2019 Earnest Long

Smashwords Edition

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Chapter 1, A View from Your Room

These are poems about somebody with a hilltop view from his house. He looks out at the view and finds it relaxing and sees it at different times of day. As well, he has a computer word processor in a top room with the best view. And what he writes is also influenced by his view. This is his view from the house and his room quite literally that has a transforming effect on his writing.

Chapter 2, Midnight Plea

They say everybody should ask themselves

If my life was laid out for all to see

Would I be convicted by a jury of my peers?

And so, I turn to think about this

At midnight to my computer screen

To make some notes, put back the hour to sleep

Make my midnight bargain to the hot screen and a mug of coffee and the electric light

Nobody can see me now when everyone is in bed computer or not but me, I know

They have some life together that they can at least sleep at night.

What to write on this word processor page?

Like the pages great authors have written on

Fed paper through typewriters, old noisy printers and new industrial ones

The result is all the same: a printed book and now an e-book

That is something you could do then but this is more personal

It is to cajole some ideas just for me and nobody else.

Possibly, my notes I could show to a best friend

Yet even she might not want to see them if I printed them for her

Could if charitable ask me to tell her for 10 minutes

Or not listen at all but me expected to entertain her

It is all so sad, it is all so happy, to have a friend at all in the world.

Chapter 3, To Write One Poem About Your Whole Life

What would you write if set a task?

By some old-fashioned fool in jacket and shirt

To write just one paragraph or one poem of your life

You could write anything but it just must be this one thing.

Another persons' bitterness and worries you might not dwell on

You can't find the words to describe their problems

This when really you know you were not told properly anything

And just thinking for the words you would use to explain your anger, you might find something.

Would you write down your achievements as such they were

You might do so. And would consider the help you had.

It is a sum of positives and negatives. Often that works!

To have any success at all. It is for who gave you advice.

And would you write of the body that you have now

That you couldn't keep as fit as from the advice as a teenager given

Something went wrong, really, you don't know what

It is just so stupid all of it to be fat. Really, it is if anything else wasn't.

And what of the things in life you liked a bit too much of

Everyone has their vices they say but what were yours?

You can take your vices with you to the grave

Your body will rot and leave no traces of them!

In all, what is to be said for any life

You had everything going for you.

Or not nothing at all.

This is unless unfortunate you were to have had very little.

But they say to you to be funny

And to cheer you up,

If you had so many vices and so much food and drink and girls and friends to worry about

You lived basically a good life, didn't you?

Chapter 4, High as a Kite on Fresh Air

Power, sex, status, prestige

Love and hate

Good and bad

Rich and poor

Real and fantastical

Wakefulness and sleepiness

Home and work and play

Digital, analogue, print

Rough or smooth

Tall or short

Fat or thin

Great and tiny

Enough, scarce or plenty

Keep on rocking, relax to classical

Hopes and fears

Keep it real, live your dreams

Don't let it lie, switch it all off

Keep going or get off it.

Chapter 5, Evening Light

Bright sunlight reflects on white houses in the valley below

A patch of sunlight caught on the road leading up to the other side of the valley

Across the path just below my rooftop view less bright sunlight

Dapples on red slate roofs

Yet unmistakably the light is fading

It a thin unwarm quality has

To the skin if not the eyes

And the breeze, cooler comes

A crane stands lower down the hill red grab vermilion in the sun

As well, the cab and concrete blocks light up

Lit still by the falling sun.

Though, below the crane, in the valley streets it is deserted of people

As people are in front of their televisions watching the match

And nobody stirs to go out

In the streets, just a few minutes away, differently in the valley from the hilltop view

There are a few people in bars drinking and the odd shopper

Not interested in soccer, grabbing their small bags of goods.

And the sunlight is bright if fading slowly

Soon it will be dark and there will be another scene played out.

Yet, if their team wins, people inside watching television will celebrate

For an hour or two in brightly artificially lit living rooms

Then, they will switch on another show.

And below in the valley the sunlight is still fading

The last light of a summer's day coming to an end.

The End

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