mindscapes

turning to find an empty space          where only your words once haunted the void between us and the warm stillness of your body comforted the night under resting angel wings folded over me    your voice silent now      your heartbeat just an echo in my ear     a remembrance of a kiss lost in the foggy ruins of memory       abandoned     out of reach       blown asunder      evaporated      bleached by the blinding light of morning as I hide from the siren screech that hurtles down through time and breaks the back of all that was once worth living for        but you are gone now and forgetting is harder than living as the sun burns through a paper sky                 a celluloid distraction crackling this humid mindscape              birth                  renewal finding our way in a new daylight of dreams.

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farewell

this waiting
hopelessly hesitating
every second counting
minute by minute

grains of sand falling
clouds passing
words whispering
hour by hour

time slowly passing
thoughts drifting
waves crashing
day by day

love and hate making
friends disappearing
it’s hard understanding
week by week

the seasons changing
waxing waning
thunder lightning
month by month

clocks are ticking
memories fading
our elders dying
year by year

the grass in the top meadow was cut last night
a warm breeze today will blow dry it into hay
this is the time for renewal and taking stock of our lives
for winter will soon be upon us…

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(I took this photo this morning about 8.30 and messed around with it using my editing software. I like the way it now looks as if it’s from a bygone age. All that’s needed are a few people in period costume holding pitch forks next to a donkey and cart. Sometimes we find old photos that have no date, names or explanation. They are glimpsed reminders from the depths of our anonymous past. Mysterious and magical moments to celebrate)

on frail stems

See the moon?
Behind the stand of poplar trees
It’s not quite full
A deceptive slither has been hid from view
And tonight
The air is still and warm
You could hear anything you want
Like the ground talking
The stars winking
Or my heart beating
Here in the front yard
Alone and frail and very tired
Wondering what on earth I am doing here
Where I will be this time next week
And the week after that
And the week after
And thereafter
When maybe I should stay put
Give up the roaming and searching
Settle into some kind of normalcy
Accept the truths that come with life
Breathe the warm still night air
And release burning teardrops
Shaped like pulsing hearts
To slip away and soak into soil
So when I am gone they will grow
And remind you of me
Bright red pulsing hearts
On frail stems
Below the stand of poplar trees
Through which the full moon will shine
On a warm still night of memories.

down the back straight (with thanks to Annie for the title)

it was the young woman’s hair that grabbed my attention
I could see it swishing from side to side as I grew near
tied up close to her scalp but free flowing through the air
long and like the mane of a horse but in such a beautiful way

as I neared I could see her power walking along the pavement
pink running shoes in stark contrast to all the gritty grey
white umbilical earphone cables dangled over her chest
connecting to the beat of her heart and the rhythm of her feet

I drove past this young woman in a ticking time bomb instant
her concentrated other worldly gaze unaware that I was there
she carried a self-confident demeanour whilst lost in thought
swishing her hair from side to side without a care

 

(I’m usually good with titles but can’t find one for this.
Please feel free to make a suggestion but don’t make it too obvious,
like ‘Swishing Hair’) 🙂

Poolside Views

beautiful tattooed curvaceous views
sunlounger tanning without a care
washed up dripping rock lobsters
spit roasted and sun blushed grilled
barbequed holiday reading fodder
chick slitted with cellulite sinplicity
these all inclusive packaged wives

there is barely a cloud in the sky
the distant mountains are never climbed
only glimpsed through fake Gucci eyes
flip flopping thru on a Bacardi breeze

beautiful poolside tired bikini mumsies
making the most of this vacation time
cock sucking their beer bellied behemoths
loudmouthing males in sports bar dives
multi screened ashtrayed eyeliner nights
lolita daughters pouting ice cream lies
coach tripped out and sun lotioned thighs

beyond the no go perimeter nature stalks
sentient beings watch from dry river beds
fresh scented sheets are delivered daily
local widowed brides in starched white suits

these beautiful multi colored international turistas
skin toned graduated flesh potted palms
homogenised in aquamarine chlorinated waters
aerobic volleyballed under San Miguellified skies
eat all you want and go back for more gluttons
buy a sun hat buy a sun hat buy a sun hat
their hotel towels claiming favourite hot spots

Poseidon sea grass mulches the strip of shoreline
kite surfers trick out on azure boarded waves
see through sexy lace summer clothes
the stage tonight set for flamenco shows

her fingers play with the hairs on his leg
his mind undresses and fucks her from behind
entertainment laid on for the evening’s foreplay
you are beautiful people each and every one
you have all earned the right to be here
equaled out under this Mediterranean sky

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show me something red

I am driving  through a white van landscape that feels
Pressurised
Containerised
Refrigerated
Articulated

The white corpuscle lines of dot-com deliveries
T-boning
Traffic jamming
Under passing
Overtaking

Summer storms gutter flooding the soft verges
Washed out
Flat tire broke
Ego deflating
The uneasy driver

We are all paying for life’s highway maintenance
In vertical rain shards
In roundabout ways
In transit
In cold blood

Quick, show me something red like a heartbeat
A Ferrari sunset
Monroe’s lips
Albino eyes
Mushroom clouds

Climbing the hill now in a snaking switchback line
Arteriosclerosis
Losing speed
Definition
Air

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Forest Fires

She is nearing the point of no return str/oke no going back
her plumpish puppy flesh is tanned and sooo delectable
bikini breasts firming up to the fondled imagination
red oversized Lolita shades hiding those furtive eyes

She is extra virgin olive skin oiled with wandering hands
growing up fast ‘n’ waiting for her fumbled few moments
what’s it gonna be like? she asks herself daily, hourly
whilst pouting and picking over her shy little sister’s words

She is Ma and Pa’s protectively bookended boredom lives
they keep her social media contacts under full surveillance
staking out and spot checking suitors for suitable potentiality
they worry for the sake of worrying which only brings more worry

She is practising her kissing in front of every reflective surface
but don’t worry girl, you know you are a pretty young thing
and the boys all want to love you now before it gets too late
have you however whilst you’re young and fresh to taste

She is just not fucking gonna be like her parents that’s all
with their cellulite thighs and saggy loosened skins but oh,
the ghastly inevitability that she will one day resemble them
it butchers her body and numbs her febrile innocent mind

His lips meet the sweaty curves of her belly
His tongue licks her salty perspiration tears
His hands remove the skimpy excuses for modesty
His hardness scares the light from her skies

And somewhere,
gasping,
a forest fire
burns out of control

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looking over the edge…

I have been to the ends of the Earth
And looked over the edge
There was darkness the depth of which
Took away my breath and left me speechless
Come away from there you cried
But the pull was too great
The drop too enticing
The thrill seeking adrenaline junkie
Cliff jumping euphoria was too appealing
I was mesmerised for those few minutes
Captivated in a traumatised trance
Gripped by something other worldly
Temptation raged war through my blood
Pounded brain cells to incomprehension
Made me question my former sanity
Places I had travelled
People I had seen
Their homes and faces staring back at me
Laughing and cajoling and beckoning to me
And then
Your hand
Touched my arm
Your words
Brushed the darkness away
And retreating
I found your quiet embrace
The souvenir seller
The vendor of forgiveness
The future holder of all life’s secrets
And I bought them all and promised you
Never
Never
Never
Would I go again to the ends of the Earth
And look over the edge to be tempted by the darkness that lies beneath.

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Daily one word prompt: Darkness

in a hole

in a hole

grubbing about

black truffled soil

snouting with pouts

a clawed devil pitcher

grappling blind looks

this mole-eyed watcher

tunnels trenched foot

in the dirt demon darkness

wormed thoughts tickle roots

sniffling and snuffling

guffawing great hoots

lost to the shadows

wearing jackshitty boots

shod to the marrow

black clods crumble books

in a last wasteland wordscape

killer kisses are blown

quicksand tragic faces

turfed walls tumble down

with a gargle and choke

hemophiliac blood flows

thrown from life’s saddle

never knowing what goes

in the twist of a tale

cockchafing cockroached

mankind’s mother lizard

regrown and reproached

unthinking unkilling

eternal misrest

left in a hole

grubbing about in a vest 

 

 

(With this piece I wanted to combine several different images in order to create one complete theme. I started by thinking how it would feel to be stuck down a hole unable to get out. The scenario turns somewhat nightmarish with the addition of (Lord of the Flies pig) and burrowing mole references. The darkness and shadows represent the threat of anxiety and depression. There is fear too. Written on or just after the 100th anniversary of the battle of the Somme it was difficult not to ignore the ghastliness of the trenches. Grappling blind looks is a play on grappling hooks. Likewise jackshitty boots for jackboots and jack shit as in nothing or not knowing / understanding anything. There are other war references to be found but mostly by the second half the imagery is sufficiently confused and mixed up that it could apply to any of these thoughts. I’ll leave you interpret the remaining lines as you wish. All I would say is that by mixing imagery and blurring definitions I hope there is enough freedom on behalf of the reader to apply his or her own meanings. What do you think?)