It were a moonlit night We met by fireside light And when our fingers touched Passion did ignite! We took ‘is boat to sea – There was ‘im and there was me! ‘I’m leaving,’ said my note An’ we found the place to be! In that place a gravestone reads ‘Two lovers lie in ground’…
Author: Chris Goode
A Funny Dream, by Marlene Yates
I were sailin’ on the ocean Free as a man can be – Me ‘eart were all apumping An’ me sails waved prettily!! The boat, it were a corker An’ all the brass shone bright I ‘and’t met the captain ‘Cos ‘twere the middle of the night!! I thought we should be anchored So I…
I am, by Marlene Yates
I stand amongst the debris of world stupidity – The others have fallen But I stand tall. I am audacious For I am needed – I drench you with my breath You need me I am not just a tree!!
Leaving, by Bob Trinder
I didn’t know I was leaving, Didn’t say ‘goodbye’ to the people Who meant so much To the person I still call ‘me’. Didn’t look at the buildings, In the streets In which I’d played On spring and summer evenings And holidays from school. Didn’t capture the details That changed subtly over the years. Didn’t…
Black and White, by Jill O’Doherty
There was a time, when all I could paint was black and white stripes, Brushed, vertical wipes of downward colour. The pinched thin stripe, The fat full stripe and those in-between stripes. There was a time when all I could paint was black and white polka dots, The tiny, full stop dot, The big fat…
Sunday Night in Punta Gorda, by Roger Read
Bars line the road on the beach. Revellers drinking and talking. Sitting catching up with family and passing friends walking. A night of dancing they search. Music level at a screech. Drowning out coherent speech. Fiesta and bands in full swing. Many partyers in full bling. Base ball caps and chains of gold . Bottle…
Cursing Booze Cruising, by Roger Read
Going to stock up on cheap wine and beer. Buy crates of the stuff to bring back here. Day trip to travel by coach to Dover. To cross over. Rules are spend all your money and have a good time. Winter gale whipping up. Hardly going to be sublime ! Gimbals jiggling to keep the…
December, by Mike McBride
Default December The usual run-up to Christmas The occasional escape to my desk Boxing Day at Wakehurst Place That tree! So scintillating, statuesque Denial December A sibilant, senseless silliness Of sanctimonious eruptions Over the sentimental shambles Of seasonal corruptions Demure December Once-a-year Christians Being affectedly serious Over-groomed shop assistants Showing professional cheeriness Designer December Computerised…
Car-sharing in the late 21st Century, by Mike McBride
Before they invented the Telepathic Highway With its uninspiring, individual car pods Each one looking like an ancient spherical light bulb From way back in the twentieth century Pods you can walk straight into and state your destination And the magnetic engine whisks you away from road to track The auto functioning closes the door,…
The Drivers of Seaford, by Chris Goode
Stuck in a time warp With Red Robbo rovers and maestros They rattle down to the seafront in a maelstrom of pebbles Eating sandwiches and staring at the Channel Glaring at joggers flouncing by North-facing flesh in symphonies of lycra They stop for both red lights and green – They stop anytime, anyplace, anywhere; Negotiating…
Shelter from the Storm, by Roger Read
Surf crashing Waves thrashing. Fan corals waving The tide ebbing. The rip roaring Tropical storm brewing. Horizon darkening Lightning flashing. Thunder crashing Wind blasting. Sand smarting Rain lashing. Shutters rattling Trees bending. Leaves flying Patio furniture scratching. Animals and birds hiding Humans sheltering. Lights flickering Then deceasing. Heat sweltering Hours waiting. Sweating. Then sky brightening…
Heuristic Recipe, by Mike McBride
Take a hypnotist, a lawyer and a preacher. Rinse them in a prosaic solution full of naïve intent. Place each behind a hot desk. Bake in a look-warm career oven for five years Until thoroughly disillusioned. Boil fiercely over a gas ring of corruption Until all their power has evaporated. Remove from the ‘Rat-race’…
Thousand Yard Stare, by Roger Read
I walk past you everyday. I see you there with the same blank look. Face frozen in a glacial way. Eyes blank in what I can only describe as a thousand yard stare. You sit there. The world passing you by. It looks like you want to cry. A face like stone. All alone. What…
augenblick, by Chris Goode
when I lived I was something like you a fleshly bundle of hungers and passions feverishly interrogating the big questions and not waiting for the answers now I’m the draught that moves the curtains and rattles blinds the slats of sunlight creeping over the carpet marking slow hours the shadow in the tail of your…
Shelter from the Storm, by Roger Read
Surf crashing Waves thrashing. Fan corals waving The tide ebbing. The rip roaring Tropical storm brewing. Horizon darkening Lightening flashing. Thunder crashing Wind blasting. Sand smarting Rain lashing. Shutters rattling Trees bending. Leaves flying Patio furniture scratching. Animals and birds hiding Humans sheltering. Lights flickering Then deceasing. Heat sweltering Hours waiting. Sweating. Then sky brightening…