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Rainbird

22 Jun

The great rainbird beats her wings

Whipping winds to helter-skelter

Teeth-like droplets bite our face

A million miles from shelter

Wibbly Wobbly Way

20 Jun

The wibbly wobbly way
Is the only way for me
I’m wibbly every day
And wobbly equally
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Particular Spoon

19 Jun

Once more I’ve closed the doors of this crazy world behind me to seek solace in this panoply of poets. Hi everybody! I brought a daft rhyme!

Particular spoon
Particular spoon
Among all others
I have to have you
I ransack the drawer
For your signature bowl
I look for your handle
Like miner for coal

My tomato soup
Will be carried by none
My reduced-fat yogurt’s
Bland taste won’t be known
Unless I have you
Specifically you
Particular spoon
Particular spoon

Napowrimo – sometimes it’s ok to let go

27 Apr

You see it all the time in movies
Person A dangles from rooftop/window/mountainside
Prevented from falling only
By the fingertips of Person B

Well, here we are
Except Person A is a self-inflicted challenge
And Person B is me
Or is it the other way round

My arms hurt
And that look in your eyes tells me
That sometimes it’s ok
To let go

Or just maybe
Your look is one of hope and faith
That somehow we’ll get through this
Together

Frankly
I prefer my first interpretation
I’m sorry…

Day 17 of napowrimo (late) – Notturno

20 Apr

Notturno, Notturno
Wherefore art thou, Notturno?
Your stars of many aeons
Lights halogen and neon
Obscure from our view
Whiteness suffuses
Exposes your mysteries
Sending nature screwy
And keeping me from sleep.

Day 16 of napowrimo (late) – note to self haiku

20 Apr

Dearie, dearie me,
Next time, turn the oven off
Yours sincerely, me

Day 15 of napowrimo (late) – for Uncle Paul

19 Apr

I remember him running, almost bent double, suit jacket flapping behind him
Looking like a mallard trying to fly, Uncle Paul chased the football
Overdressed as always for a summer day of playing in the park, sweat ran in rivers down his face
He lived for games, did Uncle Paul; football, cricket, darts, cards…
He had an Atari console – the first I ever saw, and he let us play on Space Invaders

Uncle Paul lived with grandma and grandad. Their massive dog Gemma ran him ragged.
He was of very slight build and I only noticed how short he was as I grew so much taller
In many ways, Uncle Paul was only halfway here and as the games receded, so did he
His hip gave out; he couldn’t run any more. Grandma’s death broke his heart
Grandad couldn’t look after him, so Uncle Paul went to live in a home.

Games and summer running were replaced by drinking and falling over
Every time I saw him he looked smaller, but the intensity in his eyes remained
His voice was hoarse, his laugh high-pitched, his legs even bonier now under a blanket somewhere
Grandad died and Uncle Paul receded ’til you wouldn’t have thought a person could recede any more
Then yesterday Uncle Paul died.
I haven’t seen him for years.