WISH YOU WERE HERE?
Evaporation, condensation
Tiny particles of vapour
Mist, to you and me
Dreams released; truth supersedes them
Picture slides back into focus
Face reality
Your embroidered imagination
River cruising, water splashing
Sun soaked summer leave
Our experience – tug boats, seaweed
Frost bite, seasick and an oil slick
As I live and breathe…!
Her appearance was totally unexpected and her surroundings, though vaguely familiar were at the same time unusual. Instead of her customary preference to soft pastel shades, she wore a long, black cape, buttoned to the neck. The fur trimmed hood, thrown casually over her head, was speckled with delicate, white flecks of snow, fallen freshly from above. A trail of dark footprints in the icing sugar path behind her, led back to a point, where I could just make out slender tree trunks, rising and bowing to form a canopy of oversized leaves, enclosing the pathway like a tunnel. They faded out of vision in the descending gloom as a fresh fall of fine snow began.
As she opened her mouth to speak, an icy blast of air whipped her words away, whistling through the trees, and bringing with it a further, heavier fall of snow. A whirling wall of whiteness obscured the entire scene.
I awoke, shivering, disorientated and confused.
Initially, I attributed the chill I felt to the dream and my sudden return to consciousness. But as the chill continued to bite, I realised that I was experiencing something I’d not felt these past three years; cold. Not the artificial attempts of air conditioners, but the bone gnawing grip of winter.
“I’m still asleep.” I said out loud, immediately realising I wasn’t. It was almost light, so I sat up to take a look out of the window and try to make some sense of my dream. Outside, a thick blanket of fog, restricted vision to a few yards and an eerie silence added to my confusion. I inhaled a deep breath, which felt sharp as the cold hit the back of my throat. As I exhaled, a jet of steam shot from my mouth. For a fleeting moment, I imagined I was back in England and lightning flashes of memory reminded me of those bleak winter days, when it never quite seemed to get fully light.
For We Write Poems - Take it to the limits
INTO MY MIND
I’m going
Into my head
To see if it’s true
What they said about
No bread and half a loaf
Both not the full shilling
But the thing that’s nearly
Killing me
The thing I’m
Really dying to know
Trying to be
Oh so sure of
And not just so by the law of
Averages
Is this:
What exactly is the score?
Now
I’m not the sharpest tool
But I’m not a fool
Or am I?
Can I be less
Serious?
Clearly this is more the case:
No empty space between your ears
May not be
All that it appears
A full loaf only half baked
Make no mistake
Believe you me
Is gonna be
Most detri…
…Mental…!
So you see it’s not true
What they said…
…Now I’m going
Out of my head
OUT OF MY MIND…
Posted to Writers Island
LAST SHOUT?
Before you know it…
well…it’s all over.
That’s bar the shouting,
which in this here case
(and here at this place
- The Rub a Dub Dub -
which in this here case
is only the name
of your local pub
- not some Cockneyesque
Rhyming Slang thingy -
on tonight’s mission
to get legless; drunk,
you and your mates)
means shouting as in
shouting up the ale.
Your final round of drinks
YOUR FINAL ROUND OF DRINKS
(A Syllable Sestina)
“Your final round of drinks?”
Winks – “Pour off, my sound gal!”
Mal Brown sinks four… sigh… quaff
Froth shall fly! Blink, roar, frown…
Browned off? Normal… Drinks dry
five rounds – stinks of alc… More…?
Posted to Writers Island
I WOKE UP THIS MORNING…
(in a ditch within Crawling Distance of home)
Friday night, just finished work
By work I mean that thing I do
With bright orange, reflective tape
(Y’know, the sort that indicates
A potential roadside hazard)
To pass the time until that thing
That we all live for - the weekend
I’m not talking about that
Crime Scene/Police Line Do Not Cross/
Danger – Unexploded Mine
Type of tape, but rather that
Bog-standard, common or garden
Bright orange, reflective stuff
Supported by steel spiked poles
Used to cordon-off areas
To warn of road works… and such like
Y’know, to prevent accidents
That’s the theory, anyway
And the way the whole thing works
This very theoretical
Accident prevention thing
Is all down to one thing; this:
The reflective properties
Of the ultra-bright orange tape
Which is not only reflective
No – more, so much more than this
It’s thoughtfully reflective
Indeed one might even say
Considerately reflective
Because not only is it
Reflective of the light of day
But also it’s reflective
Of artificial light sources
During the hours of darkness
Which means you’d really have to be
Some kind of fool to miss it
…Wouldn’t you?
For Mad Kane’s humour blog
And posted to Writers Island
GOOD FIGHT
A fellow who loved a good fight
Had a go at the wrong guy last night
One punch to the jaw
Sent him straight to the floor
And our fellow was out like a light
A fellow who loved a good fight
Said ‘Come on then’ to guys twice his height
To guys twice his weight
‘Who you lookin’ at, mate?’
And to everyone else, ‘I’m hard… right!’
A fellow who loves a good fight
Gets involved in a brawl every night
He warns when he starts
He can do martial arts
A bit like Bruce Lee, but not quite…
Posted to Writers Island
OVER TIME
So you’re lying there
Feeling quite pleased with yourself
Feeling pretty smug
And you remember
Why it is you feel so smug
It’s only because
Despite getting drunk
You still managed to get home
On your own two feet
And you remembered
To set your mobile’s alarm
…Weekend overtime
Which doesn’t pay you
Enough to cover last night
What you drank, smoked, ate
But still worth having
Even after Income Tax
…Just about… innit?
It’s almost as though
You’re willing; even daring
The alarm to ring
And in doing so
You’re actually causing it
To sound its ringtone
Just as these smug thoughts
Of Mission accomplished, and
Next weeks fat pay cheque
Navigate the space
(Empty space) between your ears
The useless thing sounds!
And the reason for
The sudden transformation
From ordinary
Common or garden
Mobile communicator
To a ‘useless thing’?
A look at the time
Tells you it’s nine fifteen
Not seven fifteen
You’ve gone over time
Late for work an hour ago
What’s all that about?
Posted to Writers Island
FAST FOOD TO TAKE AWAY OR SIT-IN
To the chippy with Charlie it is then
“Fish ‘n’ chips twice mate,” Charlie shouts
Looks like he’s ignoring you, Charlie boy
“Fish ‘n’ chips twice mate,” he shouts again
“I heard you the first time, second and third
Saying ‘fish ‘n’ chips twice’ two times, makes four
Makes some people laugh… but you look drunk
So I’ll just… get your fish ‘n’ chips… twice”
“That would be nice, if you’d be so kind
Because what I really wouldn’t like
Is to have to ask you for a sixth time
I know my limit and you should know yours”
“Ha ha… a sixth time… I like your style…
O.K I’ll… just get on with it then”
“You’re a gentleman and a scholar
But I bet you already knew that”
“Oh, by the way, is it takeaway
Or is it, perchance, to sit-in?
Thought I’d better ask, ‘cos you never did say
And I wouldn’t like to get it wrong”
“Is that another one of your daft ‘jokes’… ?”
“What d’you mean…? Oh, I see… SIT in
You don’t wanna be sitting in your food
…I really never thought of it like that”
