Eight Lines of Readiness: #SIWOPC

Eight lines in which to eat my way into the stomach of the one; the one who will judge the togetherness of my random thoughts. Random thoughts all bunched up into word chains. Word chains that, if approved off, will be more than ready. Word chains washed, tumbled, starched and ironed. Word chains at the…

Saturday Sauce: A Silly Poem

On this, such a fine day, I sat on a turd, feeling quite turgid and grey. It’s true that it really was quite absurd, to be morbid when so close to May. But the lovely Theresa, she tasted like curd, and it made me less shy, I must say! So, although you might think me…

A Dotty Dance: Silly Questions

If eyes are hidden behind curtain of overgrown fringe, are they really there? If spots are hidden behind sheets of yellow-brown foundation, do they really exist? Or have the eyes, and the spots, departed from this world and entered another? Do they dance the tango together, in an alternative existence, in celebration of their dotty…

Something to Do

  Not knowing what to do is something worth living for. Is something – to do!   Copyright owned by Jay Cool, April 2019  Image by Arek Socha from Pixabay

Blood-Tipped: A Savvy Poem

    High forehead, raised eyebrow and eyes d r i l l i n g into the soul of the viewer; intelligent,  curious – perceptive, even? But smudge-tipped nose and smoky knuckles, reveal the barriers within – foggy knots blocking coherent thoughts, foggy knots struggling to hold together the blood-tipped soul of the sitter….

Descendant of the Generator

Inspired by the self help blog empress2inspire.wordpress.com’s affirmation to myself that ‘I am world-class & one of a kind’.   One of the world and one of a kind. What kind of a one am I, if my one face does not fit in the one world of my one life? Should my one of…

Stigmental

Mental. Social stigma. Be open, discuss and share. People will get it and you won’t regret it. When the powerful know they have you ensnared. You’ve been opened, read, pinned,  labelled and bookmarked. Stigmatised, stamped on, crushed, dried, composted, buried, rotated, and s  c  a  t  t  e  r  e  d … The many seeds…

A Sunday Stretch

Waking up to the sun, I think I should go for a walk. But, I don’t. Instead, I bring the sun into my home and my being. To go magenta red, or mango orange? Big decision. I mix the magenta with the mango and shake. No decision needed. I emerge from pink pool at one…

Thursday Thoughts

On this day, this ordinary Thursday, I find myself stuck for inspiration. My head tells me to write about gripes and grudges – and all the grizzly gunge that grieves me, but I feel that such things, in the era of the mindful, would likely be minded, by those who mind a lot about the…

Mountains of Moments

  Mountains upon mountains of clothing, moments of a life mounting up in my lounge. We trundle up the mountains paths, my daughter and I, leaving our footprints in the rubble, seeking to pick apart the pieces, to pull away the threads the threads that hold together the fabric of a childhood past.   Momentary…