Originally posted on The Wombwell Rainbow: his outbuildings, more out than they should be. Outside bog still hung with bogroll newspaper he cuts up himself. He used to keep pigeons but they all died of rat poison he scattered after spotting droppings in their cage. Entry way made for horse and trap still echoes to…
it’s water lap and sunset goads spirit on as if tells thee, if I can’t stop thy sharnt.
Brazen. I’m telling ya.
Is brazen a new colour?
Oh, you. If you’d had sense you were born with…
My Dad said you didn’t need no sense if you’ve got legs like mine.
And see where that led ya. Mark my words, be same for her colouring her hair like that. As if she didn’t have a mother.
Course you bloody did. Only your dad disowned after she were found with that gypsy.
He were sorting some clothes pegs for her.
Owt tha says.
“Don’t Know Zip” kindly published by Zac in Misplaced Identities
“Picked Apple Falls Hard On Him” featured by Jamie Dedes in
“Parable of the Red Birds” and other poems by poets in response to last Wednesday’s Writing Prompt
https://jamiededes.com/2017/04/25/parable-of-the-red-birds-and-other-poems-by-poets-in-response-to-last-wenesdays-writing-prompt/ via @JamieDedes
sober and undrugged rehearse the words in my head
to my wife in the kitchen “I’ll have a cup a coffee,
Please, love,” but instead hear myself say
“Ittlebut wattleap…” recognise nonsense so apologise with a “Spiotonapom”
I see my right hand side as a grey blur,
my left hand side is clear and sharp,
my headaches. I can’t communicate.
I wobble as my brain sloshes one
side of my skull to the other until I sit.
“Another panic attack?” asks my wife.
“Fingers” Grateful to Terijo for publishing in new endeavour “Poetry Under Cover”
“A Bakers” published in LiterallyLiterary. Thankyou Terijo.
Many thanks to marvellous Janet and the outstanding Communicators League for publishing three poems
Spunk sees Cruel lass from afar
gobsmacked by her looks
he gets smitten hard
and determines she’ll be hooked
Asks her mates for her mobile number,
and all her social media pages,
scours internet for details,
winds himself up in rages.
Gets his message through once
or twice but she mocks him
“ Fancy me. You do right. I’m gorgeous”
and promptly blocks him.
Finds her home and knocks
and her Dad answers and says
“She don’t want to know, son.
Thinks your a stalker. Away!”
Writes his first letter and posts
it personally through her door,
it tells her she’s won and he’ll be gone
she can celebrate and more
she can see him lose his life
which is all he has left for her.
Cruel scoffs at this but goes along
for the crack and laughter.
She sees him throw a rope
already knotted around a…
View original post 485 more words
Three Poems kindly published by Janet in the outstanding Communicator’s League
https://communicatorsleague.com/2017/04/23/three-poems-by-paul-brookes/ via @wordpressdotcom