I could so easily fall
into memories
into confusion
into your eyes
the simple act of reaching
different endings
or beginnings
or your heart
If I should close my eyes
there will be nothing
left surviving
but your smile
Monday, 17 January 2011
Wednesday, 12 January 2011
close stranger
Being close
is torture
the urge to touch
overpowers me
I feel the aura of your promise.
The games we play
catching half a glance
reflected in a dark window
an accidental touch
as we adjust.
You are a mystery
I want to solve
I don't know your name
should I call you
...............again
is torture
the urge to touch
overpowers me
I feel the aura of your promise.
The games we play
catching half a glance
reflected in a dark window
an accidental touch
as we adjust.
You are a mystery
I want to solve
I don't know your name
should I call you
...............again
Saturday, 10 July 2010
The cream cake of life
Is your life a real confection
a tasty, sticky, sweet selection
or is it more a dried up husk
a basic, tasteless, stodgy rusk
How it turns out depends on the maker
and that means you 'cos you're the baker
So make your life much more eclairy
with cream still fresh from nature's dairy
smothered in a chocolate layer
wrapped in pastry, light as air
flavour filled from end to end
and tasted by each special friend
a tasty, sticky, sweet selection
or is it more a dried up husk
a basic, tasteless, stodgy rusk
How it turns out depends on the maker
and that means you 'cos you're the baker
So make your life much more eclairy
with cream still fresh from nature's dairy
smothered in a chocolate layer
wrapped in pastry, light as air
flavour filled from end to end
and tasted by each special friend
Monday, 17 May 2010
In truth
Tell my friends
I'm out.....or ill, or indisposed
The kids are ill
make sure the teacher knows
Excuse my absence
tell my boss I have to go
my grandma's ill (again)
and her demise is very slow.
If mother rings
tell her I'm in the bath
make sure you sue the council
for that lumpy path.
If my sister asks
I've dropped another size
But don't play me false in love
the one thing I hate is lies.
I'm out.....or ill, or indisposed
The kids are ill
make sure the teacher knows
Excuse my absence
tell my boss I have to go
my grandma's ill (again)
and her demise is very slow.
If mother rings
tell her I'm in the bath
make sure you sue the council
for that lumpy path.
If my sister asks
I've dropped another size
But don't play me false in love
the one thing I hate is lies.
Tuesday, 20 April 2010
This love
This love is simple
unannounced
a gentle glow
a comfortable warmth
felt with the heart and soul
constantly
This love is more in dreams than diamonds
in sharing
because we are one
and all we have
everything and nothing
is ours
This love is not only in words
but in the silence between
it is ours alone
not for show
This love is a whisper
not a shout
unannounced
a gentle glow
a comfortable warmth
felt with the heart and soul
constantly
This love is more in dreams than diamonds
in sharing
because we are one
and all we have
everything and nothing
is ours
This love is not only in words
but in the silence between
it is ours alone
not for show
This love is a whisper
not a shout
Tuesday, 13 April 2010
a future
Do you ever stop and wonder
and maybe even cry
as you end another empty day
still asking yourself, why?
does your soul continue yearning
with a need you dare not face
and is your heart still needing
a soul-mate to embrace
Do you need to find your world
a place where troubles cease
I place where I will take you
where together we'll find peace
and maybe even cry
as you end another empty day
still asking yourself, why?
does your soul continue yearning
with a need you dare not face
and is your heart still needing
a soul-mate to embrace
Do you need to find your world
a place where troubles cease
I place where I will take you
where together we'll find peace
Wednesday, 7 April 2010
the spirit of love
The pain stopped at 2:35pm.
Louise looked up and saw blue skies and once again felt the gentle warmth of the autumn sun on her face.
‘I’m not alone, I will never be alone’ she thought and, closing her eyes, she dozed contentedly.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
When the messages had stopped she had assumed that it was a technical problem, that a circuit had blown or a protocol been corrupted. She had missed him but knew that he would sort it out.
She had reflected on their relationship, taking pleasure in the special times they had shared, listening to their music, remembering their love making.
They had met only 6 months earlier but it seemed as though they had always known each other. Together they had marvelled at the feelings they shared, their parallel experiences oneness of spirit and similar aspirations. They had laughed as they said and thought the same things or finished one another's sentences.
From almost the beginning they had agreed that they belonged together and had shared dreams of an idyllic future, of a time when there would be no need to suffer misunderstanding and no struggle to explain confused feelings or half formed ideas and dreams.
Both had realised that they were lucky, most people never find a perfect love and may never know what love truly is. Louise had felt so relieved to finally know that her search had ended, that the dark corners of her soul had been illuminated and that the key she had sought so long had been found and had unlocked a treasure chest of love and emotions.
After a week with no contact she started to ask around the various communities
'.......has any one heard from......'
'I.S.O.....'
'what's happened to...'
No-one knew, some said that they missed him too but they couldn't know how much he was truly missed.
Anger followed, he was like all the others, flirty and charming - until he got bored. He had used her, she had allowed herself to be used. She had failed, he had failed her.
She took to sitting, deep in thought, ignoring calls, forgetting to eat, lacking the strength to clean or work. Deep in self pity and suddenly seeing the evil and sadness which surrounded her.
And so she came to be sitting on an old bench near a tree, in the park. A bench she sad sat on quite suddenly although, had it not been there, she would've sat on the ground since her legs would not have supported her.
She had been walking through the park towards the lake having decided , in a flash of clarity, that she was to blame for his absence and that she was of no benefit to the world at large which would surely forget her before she had even disappeared beneath the surface.
As she passed the tree she had heard a noise and had looked up, there was nothing there. The slight movement of the branches had awoken more painful memories. They had both loved nature and had planned, one day, to live far away from the city, surrounded by their beloved trees and lakes.
Louise had sobbed and her whole body had begun to shake as she cried out in anguish and frustration
'I loved you so much, you were my life, my reason. I will not live without you'
'I love you still' he replied 'we are one in soul and in spirit, live now for both of us my dear, sweet Louise'
she felt him enter her as the last barrier of doubt dissolved.
Louise looked up and saw blue skies and once again felt the gentle warmth of the autumn sun on her face.
‘I’m not alone, I will never be alone’ she thought and, closing her eyes, she dozed contentedly.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
When the messages had stopped she had assumed that it was a technical problem, that a circuit had blown or a protocol been corrupted. She had missed him but knew that he would sort it out.
She had reflected on their relationship, taking pleasure in the special times they had shared, listening to their music, remembering their love making.
They had met only 6 months earlier but it seemed as though they had always known each other. Together they had marvelled at the feelings they shared, their parallel experiences oneness of spirit and similar aspirations. They had laughed as they said and thought the same things or finished one another's sentences.
From almost the beginning they had agreed that they belonged together and had shared dreams of an idyllic future, of a time when there would be no need to suffer misunderstanding and no struggle to explain confused feelings or half formed ideas and dreams.
Both had realised that they were lucky, most people never find a perfect love and may never know what love truly is. Louise had felt so relieved to finally know that her search had ended, that the dark corners of her soul had been illuminated and that the key she had sought so long had been found and had unlocked a treasure chest of love and emotions.
After a week with no contact she started to ask around the various communities
'.......has any one heard from......'
'I.S.O.....'
'what's happened to...'
No-one knew, some said that they missed him too but they couldn't know how much he was truly missed.
Anger followed, he was like all the others, flirty and charming - until he got bored. He had used her, she had allowed herself to be used. She had failed, he had failed her.
She took to sitting, deep in thought, ignoring calls, forgetting to eat, lacking the strength to clean or work. Deep in self pity and suddenly seeing the evil and sadness which surrounded her.
And so she came to be sitting on an old bench near a tree, in the park. A bench she sad sat on quite suddenly although, had it not been there, she would've sat on the ground since her legs would not have supported her.
She had been walking through the park towards the lake having decided , in a flash of clarity, that she was to blame for his absence and that she was of no benefit to the world at large which would surely forget her before she had even disappeared beneath the surface.
As she passed the tree she had heard a noise and had looked up, there was nothing there. The slight movement of the branches had awoken more painful memories. They had both loved nature and had planned, one day, to live far away from the city, surrounded by their beloved trees and lakes.
Louise had sobbed and her whole body had begun to shake as she cried out in anguish and frustration
'I loved you so much, you were my life, my reason. I will not live without you'
'I love you still' he replied 'we are one in soul and in spirit, live now for both of us my dear, sweet Louise'
she felt him enter her as the last barrier of doubt dissolved.
Monday, 29 March 2010
A new beginning
Senses begin to awaken
A whisper of warm air brushes my cheek and birds sing in celebration, I taste the tang of salt on the air and, opening my eyes I see the ocean spread before me like an endless plain.
I turn and see the land swelling gently like a soft, green, crumpled duvet.
The breeze carries the scent of woodland flowers and my heart feels at peace.
I sit for a while under the shade of an ancient oak tree and breath deeply and slowly as my mind slips into a meditative state.
I am aware, as though reading from a book, that I have suffered and that I have fought hard to keep my sanity. I know that I bear many invisible scars, memories of battles won and lost, conflict created and avoided, chances taken, chances missed. The principals, no longer performing, parade before me allowing me to see, often for the first time, the people beneath the greasepaint.
The parents who dominated, expected and watched now stripped of their masks revealing anxious, care worn faces.
The siblings no longer competing and squabbling show themselves as strong yet loving.
Partners, not too many and each with memories. Stripped of their costume and role they are a diverse group I am the only common denominator
My children in their roles as tormentors, leeches and succubi where played by young people in need of love and security, good people with good moral sense and hearts brim full of love.
Colleagues pass me too, strange that without their trappings, their uniforms, they seem a lot like me. They worry, they struggle and they hide their insecurities.
A touch, gentle on my cheek, wakes me and I look up into the smiling face of my beloved. A tear falls and splashes on my face, her hand grips mine. I am alive, I have a chance, a new beginning.
A whisper of warm air brushes my cheek and birds sing in celebration, I taste the tang of salt on the air and, opening my eyes I see the ocean spread before me like an endless plain.
I turn and see the land swelling gently like a soft, green, crumpled duvet.
The breeze carries the scent of woodland flowers and my heart feels at peace.
I sit for a while under the shade of an ancient oak tree and breath deeply and slowly as my mind slips into a meditative state.
I am aware, as though reading from a book, that I have suffered and that I have fought hard to keep my sanity. I know that I bear many invisible scars, memories of battles won and lost, conflict created and avoided, chances taken, chances missed. The principals, no longer performing, parade before me allowing me to see, often for the first time, the people beneath the greasepaint.
The parents who dominated, expected and watched now stripped of their masks revealing anxious, care worn faces.
The siblings no longer competing and squabbling show themselves as strong yet loving.
Partners, not too many and each with memories. Stripped of their costume and role they are a diverse group I am the only common denominator
My children in their roles as tormentors, leeches and succubi where played by young people in need of love and security, good people with good moral sense and hearts brim full of love.
Colleagues pass me too, strange that without their trappings, their uniforms, they seem a lot like me. They worry, they struggle and they hide their insecurities.
A touch, gentle on my cheek, wakes me and I look up into the smiling face of my beloved. A tear falls and splashes on my face, her hand grips mine. I am alive, I have a chance, a new beginning.
Thursday, 18 March 2010
goodbye, for now (no not literally)
Our tree stands by the lakeside, a still sentinel eternally watching, waiting.
The house, our house, is to big for me now. The memories it holds to painful - the pain that only love brings.
I wander through each room, to say goodbye. I can't bear to let go completely but I don't know if I will come back here.
The attic, full of higgledy piggledy memories, special times, painful times. Broken, much loved, bric-a-brac hidden in dark corners and, scattered throughout, snapshots of our life.
In the bedroom I hear the sound of your laughter, your pleasure, quietly now beneath the beat of my heart. Our bed collects dust, it's covers unruffled.
The bathroom, clean and clinical, was once a playground. A slippy, sensuous place of wild laughter and desire.
I stop for a while in the lounge where secrets were shared, plans made and exciting schemes hatched. The old sofa, where we sat for hours reading, talking and sometimes cuddling together when we were to weary to move.
I pass through the kitchen, so utilitarian now, sides wiped clean of the crumbs of our last snack. The cupboards stripped of all the things we loved to share.
I look towards the cellar door but I won't go down there. I know that nestles there, in a strong box, surrounded by bubble wrap, my heart will be safe. It belongs here, I don't need it any more.
I leave our house, windows firmly shuttered so that no passer-by can see into our life. Locking the door I leave a key beneath a stone, in case you happen by.
And as I walk away I steal a backwards glance. The house stands in darkness but for a single light shining to guide you, should you pass one day. And in our garden a single willow stands waiting, weeping.
The house, our house, is to big for me now. The memories it holds to painful - the pain that only love brings.
I wander through each room, to say goodbye. I can't bear to let go completely but I don't know if I will come back here.
The attic, full of higgledy piggledy memories, special times, painful times. Broken, much loved, bric-a-brac hidden in dark corners and, scattered throughout, snapshots of our life.
In the bedroom I hear the sound of your laughter, your pleasure, quietly now beneath the beat of my heart. Our bed collects dust, it's covers unruffled.
The bathroom, clean and clinical, was once a playground. A slippy, sensuous place of wild laughter and desire.
I stop for a while in the lounge where secrets were shared, plans made and exciting schemes hatched. The old sofa, where we sat for hours reading, talking and sometimes cuddling together when we were to weary to move.
I pass through the kitchen, so utilitarian now, sides wiped clean of the crumbs of our last snack. The cupboards stripped of all the things we loved to share.
I look towards the cellar door but I won't go down there. I know that nestles there, in a strong box, surrounded by bubble wrap, my heart will be safe. It belongs here, I don't need it any more.
I leave our house, windows firmly shuttered so that no passer-by can see into our life. Locking the door I leave a key beneath a stone, in case you happen by.
And as I walk away I steal a backwards glance. The house stands in darkness but for a single light shining to guide you, should you pass one day. And in our garden a single willow stands waiting, weeping.
Friday, 5 March 2010
I'd like
I would really like to climb a mountain
and i don't know if I will
for to reach the highest summit
takes strength and guts and skill
I would like to swim an ocean
or even just a little sea
but to be even just a little fish like
is not a bit like me
Flash Fiction - Each Friday, a happy band of talented writers compose a short story of 55 words - no more, no less. If you would like to join in the fun and games... post your story and report to the boss -G-MAN
http://g-man-mrknowitall.blogspot.com/
If you're not interested in contributing a story, feel free to read the other entries. I'm sure any comments you have would be appreciated.
and i don't know if I will
for to reach the highest summit
takes strength and guts and skill
I would like to swim an ocean
or even just a little sea
but to be even just a little fish like
is not a bit like me
Flash Fiction - Each Friday, a happy band of talented writers compose a short story of 55 words - no more, no less. If you would like to join in the fun and games... post your story and report to the boss -G-MAN
http://g-man-mrknowitall.blogspot.com/
If you're not interested in contributing a story, feel free to read the other entries. I'm sure any comments you have would be appreciated.
Friday, 12 February 2010
Believe
In the shadow of the fates
one soul yearns
and quietly waits
One heart beats
and trusts, believes
while those fates the future weaves
One life stopped
in frozen frame
smiling whispers a forbidden name
Oner flame of hope burning still
fueled by faith
and love and will
one soul yearns
and quietly waits
One heart beats
and trusts, believes
while those fates the future weaves
One life stopped
in frozen frame
smiling whispers a forbidden name
Oner flame of hope burning still
fueled by faith
and love and will
Saturday, 2 January 2010
not alone
Misunderstood, reviled
cast out and denied
but never alone
in pain and in despair
feel like going no-where
still never alone
just a touch across the miles
and sweet occasional smiles
say you're not alone
when the now is to much to endure
and the the future is unsure
remember it's not faced alone
cast out and denied
but never alone
in pain and in despair
feel like going no-where
still never alone
just a touch across the miles
and sweet occasional smiles
say you're not alone
when the now is to much to endure
and the the future is unsure
remember it's not faced alone
Monday, 14 December 2009
questions
If you knew my heart
would you?
In the harsh reality of daylight
could you?
If I dared to strip away
my layers
until you saw the centre of my being
and spoke plain words
of mundane things
would you, could you love me?
would you?
In the harsh reality of daylight
could you?
If I dared to strip away
my layers
until you saw the centre of my being
and spoke plain words
of mundane things
would you, could you love me?
Sunday, 6 December 2009
Thug
This is the tale that’s not very nice,
A warning to all thugs
Concerning teasing, bullies, louts
(and people short on hugs)
Victor’s speech was indistinct
he had great trouble smelling,
His sinuses were often blocked
Causing nasal swelling
He was quite use to people who
Would say repeat that please
And he couldn’t count how many times
He mixed up free and threes
Our Victor was a happy chap
An even tempered bloke
And even when pressurised
He always saw the joke
because folk liked his easy way
And felt his heart was tender
Victor had a ‘people job’
He was an ice-cream vendor
Most customers would smile and say
Please and thanks to Vic
But there’s always one who spoils it
And makes the good ones sick
Such a one was Harry Rice
A snotty little scrote
He often hung around Vic’s cart
To get on peoples goat
As I explained Vic’s speech was odd
Due to his nasal features
But by and large his customers
Were kind and faithful creatures
One day Vic got a different flavour
He called it Fudge surprise
he had It on an offer
A triple super size
Harry Rice was there
And he heard Victor say
Come and get your Fugs surprise
On special for today
Harry laughed and Harry jeered
All his nasty cronies cheered
Fug surprise? You stupid man
Why can’t you talk like what I can
Victor smiled he’d heard it all
And still he wasn’t riled
Why should he, a full grown man
Be worried by a child
He turned his back and took a scoop
And made a massive ice
And turning back he proffered it
To Harry (which was nice)
Harry needed to maintain
His thuggish reputation
So he snarled and took the gift
and smothered his elation
His interest piqued on tasting fudge
He said what’s the surprise
And Victor said with dead pan face
Those aren’t chocolate bits they're flies
Harry choked and cried and sobbed
He called out for his mummy
It was probably psychological
But he had a poorly tummy
So Victor got rid of a pest
By using chocolate bugs
And now the people know that he
Can surprise any thugs
A warning to all thugs
Concerning teasing, bullies, louts
(and people short on hugs)
Victor’s speech was indistinct
he had great trouble smelling,
His sinuses were often blocked
Causing nasal swelling
He was quite use to people who
Would say repeat that please
And he couldn’t count how many times
He mixed up free and threes
Our Victor was a happy chap
An even tempered bloke
And even when pressurised
He always saw the joke
because folk liked his easy way
And felt his heart was tender
Victor had a ‘people job’
He was an ice-cream vendor
Most customers would smile and say
Please and thanks to Vic
But there’s always one who spoils it
And makes the good ones sick
Such a one was Harry Rice
A snotty little scrote
He often hung around Vic’s cart
To get on peoples goat
As I explained Vic’s speech was odd
Due to his nasal features
But by and large his customers
Were kind and faithful creatures
One day Vic got a different flavour
He called it Fudge surprise
he had It on an offer
A triple super size
Harry Rice was there
And he heard Victor say
Come and get your Fugs surprise
On special for today
Harry laughed and Harry jeered
All his nasty cronies cheered
Fug surprise? You stupid man
Why can’t you talk like what I can
Victor smiled he’d heard it all
And still he wasn’t riled
Why should he, a full grown man
Be worried by a child
He turned his back and took a scoop
And made a massive ice
And turning back he proffered it
To Harry (which was nice)
Harry needed to maintain
His thuggish reputation
So he snarled and took the gift
and smothered his elation
His interest piqued on tasting fudge
He said what’s the surprise
And Victor said with dead pan face
Those aren’t chocolate bits they're flies
Harry choked and cried and sobbed
He called out for his mummy
It was probably psychological
But he had a poorly tummy
So Victor got rid of a pest
By using chocolate bugs
And now the people know that he
Can surprise any thugs
Friday, 4 December 2009
gulf
In unsurity
we live another day
It's easier than knowing
we cannot survive
We spend our days in silence
because we can't speak
the things we hate to say
Empty and unfeeling
we go on
almost loving
never daring
to go our own way
we live another day
It's easier than knowing
we cannot survive
We spend our days in silence
because we can't speak
the things we hate to say
Empty and unfeeling
we go on
almost loving
never daring
to go our own way
Friday, 25 September 2009
Muse
My muse lies sleeping
perfect visage
mangled in repose
snoring
drooling
snot leaking from her nose
Lofty dreams
in the gutter
taking flight
between a rock and lost grace
hell and high maintenance
oceans of belief
in dry dock
My muse lies puking
around a bucket
by her bed
what dreams I asked
are lost
in the cesspit of her head
perfect visage
mangled in repose
snoring
drooling
snot leaking from her nose
Lofty dreams
in the gutter
taking flight
between a rock and lost grace
hell and high maintenance
oceans of belief
in dry dock
My muse lies puking
around a bucket
by her bed
what dreams I asked
are lost
in the cesspit of her head
Wednesday, 21 January 2009
Mills and Boon
I wandered lonely
no romance
seeking just one kiss, one dance
but I couldn't win a heart
so I decided I'd depart
and find true love
away from here
I'm packing up
with not a tear
I'm going to move to Mills and Boon
where men are men
and women swoon
where love is just a gasp away
the sex is hot
and no one's gay
The sun always shines
the people tanned
bills and traffic jams are banned
Handsome sheiks with many wives
and all of them with bedroom eyes
the nurses simper
their bosoms heaving
when they hear that Dr Love is leaving.
Ever man is rich and fit
with chiselled jaw and charming wit
perfect hair
and deep blue eyes
washboard stomach
muscled thighs.
Women's lib?
no need for that
no single parents
unsightly fat
every lady is complete
perfect figure head to feet.
I tried to move there
I really tried
but those oh so perfect folk inside
locked the gates and barred the doors
they couldn't cope with normal flaws.
no romance
seeking just one kiss, one dance
but I couldn't win a heart
so I decided I'd depart
and find true love
away from here
I'm packing up
with not a tear
I'm going to move to Mills and Boon
where men are men
and women swoon
where love is just a gasp away
the sex is hot
and no one's gay
The sun always shines
the people tanned
bills and traffic jams are banned
Handsome sheiks with many wives
and all of them with bedroom eyes
the nurses simper
their bosoms heaving
when they hear that Dr Love is leaving.
Ever man is rich and fit
with chiselled jaw and charming wit
perfect hair
and deep blue eyes
washboard stomach
muscled thighs.
Women's lib?
no need for that
no single parents
unsightly fat
every lady is complete
perfect figure head to feet.
I tried to move there
I really tried
but those oh so perfect folk inside
locked the gates and barred the doors
they couldn't cope with normal flaws.
Saturday, 17 January 2009
three faces of man
Do you think I'm attractive?
oh yes, said his lips
hmmmm, suppose, added his brain
YUM! cried the little devil
Will you see me again?
of course, the lips assured
errrrrrr, suppose, the brain added
WELL, ARE YOU GOING TO PUT OUT OR WHAT? demanded the devil, stretching
Do you love me?
you know I do, quick from the lips
yeah, yeah, whatever, yawned a bored brain
I'M READY, NOW! groaned the giant devil.
oh yes, said his lips
hmmmm, suppose, added his brain
YUM! cried the little devil
Will you see me again?
of course, the lips assured
errrrrrr, suppose, the brain added
WELL, ARE YOU GOING TO PUT OUT OR WHAT? demanded the devil, stretching
Do you love me?
you know I do, quick from the lips
yeah, yeah, whatever, yawned a bored brain
I'M READY, NOW! groaned the giant devil.
Monday, 12 January 2009
no night
Days are easy
Plastic smiles
and empty voices.
Well worn routine,
un-taxed resources.
Life, just living.
No shadows,
no sense of failing.
No falling.
Just heedless pleading,
no night
Plastic smiles
and empty voices.
Well worn routine,
un-taxed resources.
Life, just living.
No shadows,
no sense of failing.
No falling.
Just heedless pleading,
no night
Thursday, 8 January 2009
dark days
Not quite
day light
winter's night
quite near
ghostly fear
end of year
Getting there
Christmas fair
trees bare.
day light
winter's night
quite near
ghostly fear
end of year
Getting there
Christmas fair
trees bare.
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