trickles down the rotted brick

water as the blood of landscape

fills rivers and lakes and your head

into a vacuum of hesitation with the rest

of the unwanted deliberations pulled

into transport exchanges with enough

diesel to see the through to the final

stop, before retreat into a midnight

garage of old age where accumulations

of daily dirt are washed away and repairs

done so a day for profit is not missed,

until there are no replacement parts

but birds still twitter outside to attract

mates, defend territory, feed on worms

your decayed body faithfully provides.

 

via Daily Prompt: Doubt

and you will founder, but think

before you speak, thought becomes

doubt in the requested. A pause.

Hesitate is time elapsed, a wait,

time for a change in chemical state.

via Daily Prompt: Hesitate

of the architecture of my breath,

as bone circulates the exhalation

and inhalation of my blood. Pillars

of breath reach upwards to an apex,

bone touches edge of epidermis,

then rushes back to the rhythm,

blood hangs a ghost in air, inhaled

refreshes the stilted thought.

 

 

via Daily Prompt: Center

little water takes away thought of home,

holds dear the feverish heat

of knowledge thrown down gauntlets

to a flow of sense, dries up gesture

not some dry salvages or straw men

who wait to be lit by celestial fire,

or prompt spiritual fertility in watery

decay, but have foreheads fire crossed,

and penny guys drowned in the flood.

via Daily Prompt: Arid

blings a ring of quality spins

sparkle, blooms a spring

a rich pollen of rain glimmers

on season’s shoes and dressers

warm colours shimmer up and out

flowers that demand selfies with a pout.

 

via Daily Prompt: Glitter

 

when the wrinkles arrive. Life sped up,

like it’s been injected with giddy up

juice.

Your friends die off week by week.

Every day another pain in your legs,

arms, hands.

You eat less and less, nap more and

more. Life’s a rush like you wished

it would be in your twenties. Now

it makes you wonder how you found

time to go to work and bring up bairns.

And afore your watery eyes folk rush

past as if they rung see thee, like tha

invisible and its all tha can do to not

shart, “Aye up, av not gone yet tha

knows” and wake up middle of street.

via Daily Prompt: Blur

“I am the voice of the people. Everyone who disagrees is an enemy of the people”,

“We are the voice of the people,” said the media.

The people were mute. They heard voices who said they were their voice. Their voice had been stolen, again. The people were mute, wooden and on stage in a little booth that said above it “The Punch And Judy Show”..

[trans-leyt, tranz-, trans-leyt, tranz-]

to turn from one into another

to change form, condition, nature,

transform; convert

ever in translate mode

along nerves five senses input

signals into messages,

make sense of senses.

 

via Daily Prompt: Translate

never get up off your fat arse

to do owt. Leave it to some other

gullible sod to do your dirty work,

molly coddle your idle spine

in “Never mind, love. I’ll do it for you.”

while you ogle the goggle box

legs up on the soffee, hands in a bag

of crisps, or round a glass of cheap

plonk, or pawing choccies out of the box.

Let other sorry sods work and strive

and let you skim their profit and sweat.

 

via Daily Prompt: Squat

 

What can you

in all honesty

within sound of your own

and take in the same air

and warm the same heart

and hold the same hands

where can you

put it that reason would

that common sense could

with conviction should

better the days breathed.

via Daily Prompt: Expectation