Grae daze

When the black dog bites
And you’re there to hold my hand
My tears fade to nought

When I seem distant
And sinking in fearful thoughts
I’m still loving you

Tri-Haiku FlashComp

Even though I’m banned from entering the comp (see previous post) because I’m sleeping with the organiser, I’ve written a tri-haiku regardless 🙂

I downloaded him
onto my empty heart drive;
saved him for always.

He once used her name
and I tried to byte my tongue,
but it bugged a bit.

He wormed his way in;
a daemon browsing his script.
He is one hot male.

Lazy Sunday

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Ain’t got no need to worry
Ain’t got no need to cry
Ain’t got no need to hurry
Ain’t got no need to fly

Sunday.
Brief respite from the daily grind of hips against pole, while leering letches lick their lips, leaving loved ones alone and I sell my soul, sensuously slithering for their sordid satisfaction.

Ain’t got no need for money
Ain’t got no need for time
Ain’t got no time for reason
Ain’t got no reason to climb

Sunday.
Fun day; an’it’s-all-about-me’ day – lounging in lingerie, listening to light lilting lyrics. Little luxuries; savouring sentimental songbirds, sprinkled with simmering spells of silence.

Sunday.
‘Not-a-care-in-the-world’ day – passing time restfully; replenishing my vitality with literary leanings; Lear’s limericks lapping my lobes, surging my spirits ere soporific Sauvignon sinks me into slumbers.

Got me a lazy Sunday
Got me a lazy Sunday
Yeah, what I got me is a lazy Sunday

Bonkers! SlamComp Poetry Competition

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Write a poem with ‘I think the world is going bonkers today’ as the first line and maybe also as a refrain – you know that it has to be done!

I think the world is going bonkers today
Throwing a wobbly, spinning in its grave
Screaming, “Stop me, I want to get off!”
Whilst holding itself aloft – in space

Aloft in the space in the loft in space
Just above the cosmic master bedroom
Stops to start to stare at the space below the stairs
Which holds the loft aloft

Streaks straight down the banister
Airlifts up the stairlift till it’s lost in the loft in space
Stares at the stars who laugh as the stairs
Start to strain systematically

There’s a weight on the world
Driving a wedge under the door of the cosmic master bedroom
Just below the loft in space
I think the world is going bonkers today
Lost and spaced

Girlfriends on holiday eat supper with the polizia

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Great title for a poem, don’t you think?

I was accredited with winning second place in the Andover Poetry Competition with this poem today! Yay! It was a front page announcement! Yay!

Oh! Hang on… I didn’t enter the Andover Poetry Competition. How can this be?

I did what anybody else whose other half is a poet would do… blamed him for entering one of his own poems in my name; it’s just the kind of title he’d give to a poem, and just the kind of thing he’d do! Had he actually done this, he would have scored a hat-trick, as two of his poems won first and third places.

The website said that the winning poems are to be recited at the acceptance night this Thursday. What was I to do with only two days to go? Well, I wrote a poem called ‘Girlfriends on holiday eat supper with the polizia’ in my lunch hour, of course. There’s nothing like a tight deadline!

The actual winner is a friend of mine. I’ve emailed her my poem in the hope that she’ll be happy for me to recite it in the open mic section on Thursday.

Congratulations to Graeme Sandford, my gorgeous soon-to-be-published poet partner, and the beautiful Sandra Gordon, whose poem title inspired this…

Girlfriends on holiday eat supper with the polizia

Men in uniform are a weakness of mine
Street corner hooker, bursting with red wine
Tuscan Chianti kisses*, a wink of an eye
Are sent their way; one thing I’m not is shy

Hunger in their loins, I see them looking
Draped around a lamp post, they see me hooking
They laugh, thinking I’m just a drunken tourist
Legs akimbo and my manner boorish

Comrades-in-arms walking down the street
Swaying gently, with no shoes on their feet
Holding themselves up as they holler, “Felizia!
We’re going to have supper with the hunky polizia”

I undrape myself and join the girlfriend conga
Free supper is relief, as we’ve run out of wonga
They’ve hunger in their loins, but I’ve hunger in my belly
And I crave for seeded crackers and some hot pepper jelly

I get antipasti bunny in a curried stew
Bruschetta, mozzarella; that’s Welsh rarebit to you
Pizza Margherita – Margherita? Now you’re talkin’!
This sure beats the streets and the barefoot walkin’

Spaghetti, amoretti – arrows courtesy of cupid
We’re filling up fast, this is getting kinda stupid
Feast of seven fishes with linguine in clam sauce
I don’t think it’s on the menu, but I’m eating like-a da horse

I am sated, I am slumped, I can scoff no mo
Until I’m handed an espresso and some gelato
I’m sobering up now, feel my senses returning
Look around me, feel my face and my heart start burning

A few weeks on, no longer Brit abroad
I’m munching on salami, ‘cause I’m feeling bored
So I start to book again, when my girlfriends shout, “Felizia!
We can’t go back to Italy, remember the polizia!”

I don’t.

*Tuscan Chianti kisses – If this looks familiar, it’s because it’s the second time I’ve used it this week; see recent haiku 🙂

Close your eyes – A short story

Every morning, I am compelled by his power.

“Close your eyes”, he says in a tone all his own.

I disrobe and stand naked before him, trembling as the cold air caresses my flesh.

He counts down; three… two… one. Anticipation builds within for what is to come. I know there are others, but right now he focuses only on my body. I stand as still as I can as he scans for the slightest of movements.

After what seems like an eternity, he whispers, “open your eyes”.

Peering through still sleepy lashes, I obey and gaze at him intensely.

“Your balance is almost perfect.”

The corners of my mouth curl into a wry smile, yet still I wait expectantly. Within seconds, the moment arrives… a weight is lifted as I hear the fanfare.

Enveloping myself in the warmth of my robe, I put the Wii Fit balance board away until tomorrow.

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Walkus – For Dad

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Vega: “Dad! We made new friends!”
Haiku: “There was Saffy and Basil…”
Vega: “Don’t forget Gunner!”

Vega: “We saw Sammy Pom”
Haiku: “He looks like a small lion”
Vega: “He remembered us!”

Vega: “Saffy barked at us!”
Haiku: “Basil bared his teeth at us!”
Vega: “Gunner… I’m in lurve…”