Mush

Looking deeply at the damp drudgery eating the walls, I push my hand completely through, there is no sound, no one is around except the dripping twinkle of the curse, a tarnished complexity stooped in historical depth, out of focus observing a benign despair, I climb a weakened stair that crumbles to the floor below yet not a soul will miss, water trickles down the rain washed brow, I can see now, ‘tis a day that is meant to be, I can hear the shadows in thy distant pass fading away from me, yet without choice, I shall let it be.

Return to the hive

I got my lazy arse out of bed, a pain throbbing in my neck, someone’s been drumming on my chest, I’m surprised that I could get any rest, a hip which is black from a utility bruise, if I could choose I’d be on a cruise or in the school at the sst hive, I’ve never been so thankful for being alive. 

Scar on face

Remembering a time when we were young, knocking hats off and chewing gum, scrumping neighbours apples, fighting their kids, we were ignorant yet happy, we called them ‘yids’ an antisimetic term for the ignorant and young, the local accent rolled off our tongue, we were thoughtless youth, a little scruffy, a little uncouth, honest little villains that were innocent in truth. I learnt as I aged to turn a different page, care for others without rage, not be judgemental of differences in looks, what people wear or what they cook, to see the humanity, the suffering in others, the damage from destruction, what war is about, the pain of children, they scream, they shout, hungry stomachs from going without, there is a greed in humanity that I’d rather not see, lives lost in killing from a murdering spree when the devil enters their homes to create tragedy, I hope to look in the mirror and say ‘thank god it’s not me’  

The Starling

She unwrapped the bird and it flew up high flapping its wings way up in the sky, 

a start of freedom to seek and find, a new lease of life for the once before blind.

Ode to a Kipper

You lay there bronzed with a shine, I could not wait until you were mine, when I could touch your fine line, curves like a belle on a beach, a sensual smell, uniquely devine, I grasped you tight then brought you home, eventually when we were at last alone, you glistened and spat as if you were an angry cat, placed under the grill, covered in butter and then I ate, the delicious fish, what a tasty dish. 

Autoantonym

Feeling tall while walking small

Fell off a ladder

Not funny at all

A sense of humour one must have

so I’m crying laughing when going to the lav.

In the next year

Oh faint heart, whisper in thine ear something of nothing, speaking gentle tone, give thy a soft shoulder, a warm caress to hold while we toil this winter sheave then we must laetan thy person distant, chastened till we lighten the day again