Monday, 1 June 2020

The Prince of Duplicity

He is gone, you will see him no more, along with his iniquities he has been subjected, pulled into the dark, quiet forevermore, as a fallen pebble into sand of quick, remorse shall follow him until his vision of day implodes, his soul dissipating, thus gaining a place in hell forevermore. 

Gone is he, the man of power and pause, a prince of the realm, nay a prince of iniquity, his reputation in tatters before the world to see, the difference from a fake reality, forbidden to practice highly charged sensuality, freedom no more, for gone is he, gone is the prince of duplicity.

Wednesday, 13 May 2020

The parcel 

I received a parcel addressed to someone else, there it lies, collecting dust on the shelf, I often look at it and wonder what I should do, the van man said it is for me and not for you, I could open it, to take a look inside, then again what secrets might it hide, I could take a cheeky peek but it may be something that I cannot keep, it might be mucky or something yucky it could be something rare or Lucky, I’m ever so concerned, a person could be missing out, I should open it really to find out what it’s all about but I daren’t as it’s Royal Mail and Im worried to find out now, it may belong to a neighbour or a present from a friend that they’ve saved a long time for something special to send, it’s agonising, so much I’m filled with tension, I fear it will be there when I collect my pension, okay, I’ll open it, no, I won’t, no I shan’t, no I can’t. I’ll leave it on the shelf for a little time longer until I’m feeling stronger. 

Thursday, 7 May 2020

Anticipating Glenda

Patiently she waits for the wall to fall, not only to see the sky again but to feel it, a window open to Glenda is a glimpse of someone’s life, a person that’s taken the horse by the bit, then releases the creature into an acceptable fit, it jumping with its new found freedom, leaping into the air for joy.

She sits silently, looking for change, hoping that John will come her way again, sometimes she glances him drinking tea, stroking her hair, kissing her face, like it used to be, memories bring him back for one last feint moment, yet not too clear, her memory fades just the same. 

She sleeps and in her slumber, she dreams, of her House in the sky, John is there, doing the simple things, like mowing the lawn, then she wakes at dawn, he is again, gone!. she lives in hope of those moments they are together, for when she dies, she knows they will be.....forever

Glenda is fed her tea at six, lights switched out at ten, it doesn’t matter to her, so long as she can be with him again, the carers are kind and gentle beyond reproach, they dress her in a lovely dress with a gorgeous broach, John bought it for her, when they had wed, he was her one and only living coach.

The pasture where John lay is far, far away on the other side of the U.K., Glenda waits patiently for the wall to fall, for the last time..she is thinking of the never ending moment, like two young lovers, in each other’s arms, hardly seen, on the field of green, very much in love they will be as bewildering spirits in the night, a pair of white doves taking flight. 

Forever and a day. 




Tuesday, 31 March 2020

Cyclops 

That one eyed goose showed no fear, he followed closely, he was always there, pecking at your wellies, no matter what time of year, Uncle Bill would say “bugger off out the way”, “do you mind?” But the goose would come back and bite him from behind.

Cyclops, as sinister as a wasp, chasing around, without release, in charge of the animals and rounding up other geese, Uncle Bill laughed in his ironic way, yet that silly old goose, would just bite him anyway.

Miss you both Pat and Bill, you will be in our memories forever.

Wednesday, 25 March 2020

Julian Smith to ..........?

Surrounding awareness, fog driven mind irreparable,   Satan’s guide to elusiveness, driven to despair, taking a step further away from God.

For god is the lord, shepherding as Jesus Christ at the head of a gentle leadership for survival of the human race, striving to tread blindly into the darkness, then coming through into everlasting light.

Understanding the requirements to make sense, intelligence has never forsaken me, losing the ability to gather thoughts on the other hand is preoccupying every minute of realisation to step intuitively forward in confidence.

Anger, aligning with frustration at the terrible thought of losing memory and the purpose of everything that goes with it, feeling loss of an important history then knowledge of an indescribable beautiful face that I once knew and now barely recognise, the answer belongs to my mind, whose brain has fiction and a knowledge that is hidden forevermore. 

Then follows death, eventual mortality, taken in by hope and faith, either confidence of a resurrection to look forward to or a deep dark occurrence of nothingness, Irrespective of wantoness and a condition of a lost mind.

I am Julian Smith.

I am Julian ssss

I am Jules 

I am J

I am Me, I think

I am

I

Friday, 20 March 2020

Sparkle dust Spring

Pyrus Communis, pretty white flowers, Forsythia, little golden bells in gardens, sweet cutting of a newly grown lawn, crispness of the air in the early dawn.

Narcissus growing plentiful to lighten the dark, camellia rose shrub in the Parks, Cherry blossom, beautifully tall, leaving the most wonderful flower of all, a new year begins as the Magnolia fall.



Thursday, 19 March 2020

Gracie

He looks out of the window, it’s a solemn day outside, rain is falling again, a small grey squirrel is hanging on the feeder table, helping itself to peanuts, a sparrow hides under the wing of a pigeon, cooing softly. 

The nurse startles him “you all right Bill?”,  he nods, not expecting to see anyone enter his room, ‘they don’t normally!’. 

 “d’you wanna chat and a cup of tea?” She say’s in a broad geordie accent, William nods,  “okay then, if you’re sure” she say’s, then leaves as quickly as she came in.

 He looks at the small wall, drab magnolia in colour, ‘not a pretty sight’ he thought, he then looked along the wall at a framed photograph hanging, covered in dust, the picture was a photograph of his wife and himself, sixty years earlier, ‘now’,’she; was; pretty’, he thought to himself. 

William stared at the picture, mesmerised by her beauty, remembering every, line in her perfect face, her gorgeous scent of sweet rose, to touch her skin, as soft as a silk cushion, a cushion which he now held tightly, after what seemed like five minutes but was almost an hour, he wept a deep tear, all alone, to himself. 

William glanced out of the window again, there he saw the squirrel, chewing nuts, this time it was joined by a friend, a big brown rat, gorging himself, ‘my Jake should have caught that rat by now’, ‘where is he?’, he thought to himself, forgetting that Jake’, his cat, had been taken into care about the same time as he had been taken into the home. 

The nurse entered, this time a large Jamaican woman, “well bill, are you going to talk to me today honey?” She asked, William thought ‘if only they knew my name was William’ not Bill’, then nodded, “I’ve brought you some dinner”, “are you hungry”, William was hungry and nodded, “Good, we have Pie and mash for you darling”. 

Nurse kindly fed him his food with care using a fork and a spoon, then helped him drink a cup of tea, she never checked if he required changing, then left. William was wearing a pad but was wet. He was mostly unable to do much for himself anymore, he was Ninety two, William had gone downhill after his wife had died.

William sat in his chair looking around, ‘not much to see’ he thought, he would have watched the television except he’d dropped the remote control on the floor three days ago, he could not reach it and could not ask for it.

After some time of staring out of the window it began to get dark, the sun was setting although he could not see it above the clouds on this dreadful grey day, William glanced at the Star shaped clock on the mantelpiece it said six o’clock, he nodded off. 

The nurse came in at Seven P:M, she woke William, “Bill are you awake?”, “Bill”, he opened his eyes and nodded, “why don’t you ever watch tv man, you wouldn’t doze off, you must be bored, William rolled his eyes, “Are you ready for bed honey?”, he Shook his head, it was far too early as far as William was concerned, he wanted to watch Television.

“my goodness Bill”, ‘William’ he thought, “your wet man”, she changed and washed William, then with a hoist, tucked him into a freshly made bed, he was protesting, the Nurse asked “what honey?”, William lay still, he was looking at the ceiling, he could not express how he felt so he gave up,“well goodnight honey, sleep well” Nurse said, William glanced at the time, it was quarter to eight. He lay still, awake, feeling sad. Feeling alone.

End of the World is Near!!

Waste is everywhere here and antartic plastic reaches wildlife in deep lost spaces chicks of albatross in depths of the artic fragments of p...