Tuesday, 31 March 2020

Birth Or Death
Death begins at birth
for pro-lifers.
The birth day
is
when
interest
is lost
lost
in those post foetal
post natal
moments
which move us
crying
into hours
smiling
into days
crawling
into months
running
into years
walking
into decades
slowing
toward
our death day.
They’ve long
lost interest
these pro-lifers.
They say that life
must be lived
according to
the law of God
as it is written
and dispatched
to them
in nightmares
and dreams.
Only break it
and
they’re back
with interest
and concern
those pro-deathers.
HEADLINEPOETRYANDPRESS.COM
Death begins at birth for pro-lifers. The birth day is when interest is lost lost in those post foetal post natal moments which move us crying into hours smiling into days crawling into months runn…

Sunday, 29 March 2020

Dreaming
There was a time when
I knew where to find you,
knew the places and spaces
you inhabited
in my dreams,
in my day
and night
dreams.
You would be waiting there,
waiting to be found,
waiting to come
to me
revealing your secrets.
Now it's harder to discern you,
to recognise your shape and form.
You are becoming fragmented and ephemeral,
floating forms in a damp mist of change
holding on tight
to your secrets
Don't pass me by.
I still want to know you
to discover you
to learn what you’ve become.

Friday, 27 March 2020

Bringing On The Clowns
I always found them creepy
the circus clowns
I watched as a child.
They never made me laugh
or even smile.
My uncle ‘clowned around,’ they said
and he was funny.
A boy in my class was often described
as ‘a bit of a clown’
and he was funny.
But the circus clowns
with the fake smiles and tears
painted on their made up faces
strutting their stuff around the ring,
falling off ladders,
failing to juggle
or walk a tight rope,
throwing water
over each other
posing and posturing
in between antics,
they weren’t funny,
just scarily strange.
And now the clowns are free,
they’ve moved outside the Big Top
the whole world is their circus now.
‘Send in the clowns’ cried the audience
and they came on to the stage
but no one is laughing.
It’s no laughing matter.
https://ramingoblog.wordpress.com/…/the-ramingos-porch-we-…/

Tuesday, 24 March 2020

Black As Night
A storm was brewing
a gathering of black clouds
blocking out the sun
waiting for the thunder to clap
and the rain to fall.
“Black as night,”
my mother said
nervously,
“the clouds have eaten the sun.”
She didn’t like storms.
I found it exciting
unpredictable
disconcerting,
the transformation
of day into night.
And the blackness completed it.
Nights were usually grey
with cloud,
I liked it when the cloud cleared
leaving brightness, not blackness
as if the moon had eaten the dark.
It seems the moon is the more powerful.
The clouds might eat the sun,
but the moon ate the dark.

BRAVEANDRECKLESSBLOG.COM
A storm was brewing a gathering of black clouds blocking out the sun waiting for the thunder to clap and the rain to fall. “Black as night,” my mother said nervously, “the clouds have eaten the sun…

Monday, 23 March 2020

The Empty House
It fascinated us as children,
the empty house in the countryside
where we walked the neighbour’s dog.
Why was it empty?
Who had lived there?
We imagined secret passages
leading to priest holes,
walled up dead bodies
and buried treasure.
No one knew.
But we knew
that the dog was reluctant to go near
and we had heard that dogs were sensitive
to the spirit world.
So we knew
it was haunted.
That ghosts lived there,
spirits of the past.
We dared each other to enter
through the broken window.
Maybe we broke it first,
but I don’t remember that.
In the end we all went in,
leaving the dog outside.
But there was nothing.
Just a house.
Empty.
Ordinary.
Not spooky.
Just empty.
I passed it today,
all these years later.
There’s no entering now.
Police tapes surround it.
Maybe the dog knew
that the ghosts were of the future,
not the past.
PAPERANDINKZINE.CO.UK
PAPER AND INK LITERARY ZINE ISSUE #15 'THE UNKNOWN' A collection of short stories, flash fiction, poetry and art on the theme of The...

Saturday, 21 March 2020

Inappropriately Dressed
I wasn’t dressed for snow,
or clouds,
or wind,
or for walking at all,
if I were be honest.
But sometimes
you just have to give it a go
and trudge through the clouds,
kick up the snow in passing,
challenge the wind
with the size
of your hat.
It wouldn’t dare to blow
it away, would it?
Sometimes
you just
have to don
your dark glasses
and stride out to the sun,
regardless of snow, or clouds, or clothes.
Sometimes
you just have to go.
VISITANTLIT.COM
Inappropriately Dressed I wasn’t dressed for snow, or clouds, or wind, or for walking at all, if I were being honest. But sometimes you just have to give it a go and trudge through the clouds, kick…

Thursday, 19 March 2020

How To Float
They told me a stone would never float.
I didn’t believe them
so I threw it carefully on to the water.
It stayed there
on the surface,
a miracle!
So I threw another carefully to land on top
and then another
and another.
Now a stack of stones was floating
on the water.
They told me a stone would never hang in the air.
I didn’t believe them
so I threw it carefully upwards.
It stayed there
in the air,
a miracle!
So I threw another to land underneath
and then another
and another.
Now a stack of stones was hanging
in the air
casting its shadow on the water.
Believe in the miracles you can make.
Don’t believe what they tell you.
Cast a long shadow.

Wednesday, 18 March 2020

Easter Bonnet
You promised me an easter bonnet
to celebrate my first swim.
I thought I might lay you an egg
an Easter gift to thank you
for your kind thoughts.
But this is a travesty.
A blond wig is not a bonnet.
You’ve made me look like a clown,
a Donald Trump duck
or a Boris Johnson.
I shall swim away.
There’ll be no egg for you
today.
https://visualverse.org/submissions/easter-bonnet/?fbclid=IwAR3EEJV22T7pZjoOKfxVe2RoQz4BcCDPPOKd-7WNuUgj7hwWdbHU4ijLAJA