An Ode to the mobile library

At the back there's cowboys shooting
fluffy rabbits (and Rasputin)
lyrical stories on the spinners
poverty and sumptuous dinners

Changing gear with the latest fashion
braking fast with faith and passion
red balloons and dragons of Pern
fly off the shelves at every turn

It's guaranteed, no problem proving
every book they have is moving

she

photo property of yelp.com photostream
words my own

picture of you

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

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

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

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.

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

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

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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.

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

dark days

Not quite
day light
winter's night

quite near
ghostly fear
end of year

Getting there
Christmas fair
trees bare.

Over

I'm over you
all the stuff we used to do
those days of secret games

It's over and you'll find
we're both out of my mind
no more slushy names

It didn't mean a thing
the special songs we used to sing
this silence is much better

just photos stored away
from a long gone, sunny day
the odd dreamy, perfumed letter

masked ball

Your festival smile draws us in,
promising pleasure,
a party within
those sparkling eyes offering fun
a hint of mischief
you shine like the sun.
In your special party dress, cut to hug your figure
you dance until the dawn
you embody life and vigour.
Whirling on the dance floor,laughing as you leap
it's only when the ball is over
you allow yourself to weep