Wednesday, 28 June 2017

Out Of Place
There’s something out of place.
I can see it now
but I’m still not sure
of it’s implications,
or my inclinations.
Will it cause me to trip up
and fall flat on my face?
Perhaps I have already
and not yet noticed.
Or perhaps I’ll take a step up,
grasp the opportunity to grow.
Take the first step towards
learning to fly
away.
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Sunday, 25 June 2017

Barcelona Sandals
Standing in the Andorra snow
shivering in our Barcelona sandals.
Glad of a lift down to Foix
as darkness was falling.
And the driver knew a hotel,
Hotel du Centre.
Very grand
and full
of people looking down
long noses.
But the driver knew the owner
who was a kind man,
a nice man.
So we shouldn't worry
about the cost, he said.
A lovely room
and in the morning,
breakfast!
We must eat
the owner said.
Warm bread and jam.
Coffee with hot milk
which tasted sour.
But I don't like
the taste of milk,
anyway,
so most likely
it was sweet.
And then the bill.
But there was no bill.
Save it for the journey,
the owner said.
A kind man,
a nice man,
who believed
the driver's story,
whatever it was.
A few years later,
we returned to Foix
and went to find
Hotel du Centre.
But it wasn't there.
No one knew it.
It didn't exist.
Did it ever exist?
Did any of it happen?
Or did we somehow
share
a memory
from our
imaginations.

Friday, 23 June 2017

Buzzing
I can hear the flies buzzing
since I died.
In life I could shoo them away,
open a window
to persuade them through,
though usually they were
too stupid
to grasp the chance of freedom
offered and escape.
Now there is no window to be
opened.
This is a closed space.
Eternal night.
No possibility
of freedom,
or escape.
Not for me.
Not for them.

First published in Armageddon Issue, Pilcrow and Dagger, February 2017
http://pilcrowdagger.com/

Thursday, 22 June 2017

God Save the Sheep
God save the sheep
baa aah.
Where would we be without them.
Who would lead if no one followed?
Why bother to whip up their storm of frenzy,
to feed them on blades of rumours
ready to become knowledge, to become fact.
Baa aah.
Say it again,
baa aah.
And only white sheep allowed,
of course.
No black or pink or purple
to shatter the consensus.
Colours cannot be tolerated,
along with druggies and drunks
and survivors of abuse.
Oh dear me, no,
not appropriate here.
Baa aah
And suppose they stay?
Baa aa aah
Plant their hooves in our cheap wet fields,
sneak inside our friendly flock
and contentedly munch
a thistle here,
a spikey rush there.
Baa aah.
Drown them out
baa aah,
baa aah.
God save the sheep.
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Wednesday, 21 June 2017

Don't Go

When I’m with you
I feel I am whole.
Captured and completed.
Engulfed by you.
When you kiss me
all my fears disappear
in the kiss.
Where do they go?
I don’t know.
Do you wrap them round your tongue
and swallow them whole?
I don’t know.
I only know the comfort
I feel, such peace.
So don’t go.
Don’t go.
Please,
don’t
go.
Taj Mahal Review VOL. 15 NUMBER 1 JUNE 2017
CYBERWIT.NET

Sunday, 18 June 2017

A Disappointing Day
If they hadn’t asked her
to smell the nice scent.
If she hadn’t remembered
the scent from before.
There would have been
no screams, no stamping
up and down on the trolley.
The nurse would still
have her cap on
and the doctor would have
no fist or feet marks
on his white coat,
no red hand mark
on his pale cheek.
There would have been
no shock, horror reports
to those who had put away
Red Riding Hood
and were waiting
anxiously for news
of their little girl.
But they did ask her.
They did ask her.
The scent wasn’t nice.
She knew it.
And there was no ice cream
afterwards either.
They’d lied about that
as well.
A disappointing day.