Savvy Diary – The Torture

Just read a poem that arrived in my inbox, by Brandon Som. I struggled to follow many of the lines, as some were in languages other than English and, much to my shame, I am not even bilingual, let alone multilingual! Nonetheless, the following two lines stuck! Perhaps in the same way that a saw, abandoned part-way through a knee-replacement op might stick!

it was with short, forced words
                                    like first strokes when sawing—

(Lines borrowed from ‘Close Reading’, a by Brandon Som, as featured on Poem-a-Day.)

And, as I jot these thoughts down, I have suddenly become aware of a distant drilling sound. A neighbour’s lawn mower? A hedge trimmer? A workman drilling through concrete? It’s 8.22am and I’ve woken up from a deeply-disturbing nightmare with a splitting headache. Should I blame the Sertralin, the drilling, or my hubby’s rants of anguish?

‘Why don’t any of these lids fit the sandwich containers? Why is Sprog 2 still in the bath wasting all that water? Why can’t I find …?’

This is not what I need. I need to shut it all down, take myself out of it all.

I gave up the day job – the 6.30am start and the hour’s drive to work is just a nasty bygone memory.

So why, then, do I feel like there’s a saw doing a slow run through my knee joint and a pair of drills rushing to meet each other via my temporal lobes?


Surely all of that torture stuff only happened back in the …

I might have given up the day job, but there’s something else I need to give up – Sertralin!

Time for the alternative stress-beating strategy.

Time to write.

Shame that it’s also time for doing the stay-at-home-mum-thing. The school run!

Copyright owned by Jay Cool, Friday 29th September, 2019

Image of nutcracker by Hebi B. from Pixabay

Image of stressed-out person by ErikaWittlieb from Pixabay

Savvy Diary – Bottle of Wee

Silly Poem – Instant Soulmate

Published by The Silly-Savvy Salopian

Freelance writer and descendant of the cave dweller and outlaw, Humphrey Kynaston. Banished from Shropshire for my eccentricity, I have made my home in Suffolk. I write poetry, short stories, travel journals, comedy gig reviews and non-fiction articles. My wish is to write my way back into the heart of my birth land. All writing commissions (and free holidays in Shropshire!) considered.

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