Eyeball trees at riverside, miniscus lens focuses minds
Month: May 2017
Pursue
the live mouse your new cat brought in as a gift, move leather settee and armchairs forward so you can see behind them, poke with your multicoloured fluffy duster the quick grey tail swish by, climb wooden African cd rack in shape of shrunken head and body, grasp it’s tail and quick under arm chuck it out front door, before it has chance to spin, break it’s tail and pursuit begin again. God your neck and back ache.
“Eclipsing Rainbows” and other poetic responses to last Wednesday’s prompt
Two poems kindly featured. “Eclipsing Rainbows” and other poetic responses to last Wednesday’s prompt
Two poems kindly featured “Eclipsing Rainbows” and other poetic responses to last Wednesday’s prompt
https://jamiededes.com/2017/05/09/wednesday/ via @JamieDedes
As Temporary
as life is always the forage for the eternal, long last, genuine. Employment and relatives fleet. Only grief, scrabble for pennies permanent. Bonecold, gustswept, jointpain will pass. Preserve touch of hugs, recall others smiles often. Comfort makes a good memory for long as memory lasts.
Bitters
are memories she tends in her garden, to soothe her awkward joints and salve her aching stomach and bad blood.
Dandelion is her childhood, yellow warm blaze her mam dismisses as weed.
Horehound is her teens, a crown of white lightening cuddlesome as a shawl.
As an adult rescued by her brave centaur Chiron who tended her cracked heart with Milk Thistle, then slept with her best mate.
Now her favourite is Wormwood, especially in the glass of Vermouth she sups in her independence.
“I Must Get Rid”. Thanks to Tasha for publishing in Inbetween Hangovers
“I Must Get Rid”. Thanks to Tasha for publishing in Inbetween Hangovers
https://inbetweenhangovers.wordpress.com/2017/05/08/i-must-get-rid-by-paul-brookes/ via @wordpressdotcom
Exposed
even when heat bursts off the roofs shimmers pavements a coldness gradually heaps further into your bones when there is no money coming in and a constant amount final demanding to go out while you muse over writing an essay on Maslow’s hierarchy of needs a gust inside you kneels to pray to the emptiness of your cupboards and disappearance of pride weeps into your blood.
“Counter (From ‘My Maths’ chapbook #Dyscalculia)” kindly Renee S. and Jason, published in Literati Magazine
“Counter (From ‘My Maths’ chapbook #Dyscalculia)” kindly Renee S. and Jason, published in Literati Magazine
“Her Life” kindly published by Ray Alez in Fiction Hub
“Her Life” kindly published by Ray Alez in Fiction Hub
View at Medium.com
The Wombwell Rainbow 