I had a dream. A dream that moved me. A dream about movement – about freedom. The freedom to move; to be moving and maintaining; maintaining one’s person in a public place: peeling one’s toe nails in a business meeting; picking one’s bogies whilst delivering a speech; plucking one’s mole hairs in company with aContinue reading “Free Movement”
Category Archives: writing
Rooted Toe
Six inches of snow predicts my toe, then tells me to purchase fur boots. I’m not one to argue, after all my toe’s gone through, with a message sent up from my roots. Copyright owned by Jay Cool, Jan 2019 Inspiration taken from a reading of Robert Frost’s ‘Winter Lull’.
Me is More
‘Prairie Dog’ courtesy of Pixabay.com If my lover loved me fully Wore my poems in her hair I would play for her a love song I know she wouldn’t care My flat notes would be tuneful The twanging strings so cool She’d look at me as in a dream N’er take me for aContinue reading “Me is More”
A Rushed Ending
‘Beach’ courtesy of Pixabay.com time circling itself each round of the circle getting smaller each weekend seeming shorter passing quicker than the one before until Copyright owned by Jay Cool, January 2019 Inspiration take from ‘Mexicans Lost in Mexico’ by Nico Amador. Who is Jay Cool?
Thought Buds
Is a thought that comes from a line of thought written by another poet, a thought at all that can be called a thought of my own, or is it simply a thread pulled from a coat of other people’s multicoloured thoughts? Is it a frayed thread, a thread that is really a twig sproutingContinue reading “Thought Buds”
Day 7:1 This is Wem
Visiting my Webb ancestors in the quagmires of Dawley, yesterday, had to be done. But, although the old souls did their best to evoke a quality setting for a gothic novel (guard your spot on the shelf of Waterstones, closely, Stephanie Meyer!), the experience somehow lacked my No. 1 qualifying criteria as a genealogist’s hotspot.Continue reading “Day 7:1 This is Wem”
Making My Way Across Counties
‘My body is a small cave door it’s a slick whale a jubilant sea of tall grass that sways & makes its way across countries’ (lines 1-4 of ‘::Searching for My Own Body::’ by Yesenia Montilla.) Out of a small cave door, he came forth, and a birth came forth from whence emerged anotherContinue reading “Making My Way Across Counties”
Google Photograph
‘Sitting at a laptop creates an image that I carry back.’ (Jay Cool) A neck with a thousand folds. A bump harboured by an anxious nose. A line, puckered into peaks and troughs, of 48 years near gone. A thought. It is not me. Just an image. An image of another me in another time.Continue reading “Google Photograph”
Yellow Rose of Flanders
From the soles of my walking shoes, I shake you out and s c a t t e r you. In my sole, a part of you remains. I find a tool, dig you out, keep you close – potted and thriving, you grace my front door. Every day, on myContinue reading “Yellow Rose of Flanders”
‘Too old to love’?
‘Sand Sculpture’ courtesy of Pixabay.com Chance cheating, I tip my toes on the pool floor. Forward frogging, I propel myself onwards. Foam floating into third place, I collect my prize. Proud punching the air, I laugh. Nothing nudging. Until now. Now, forty-one years since. No prize am I for a novel-man of fifty. Bottom bulging,Continue reading “‘Too old to love’?”
The Silly-Savvy Salopian in Suffolk: read, believe and write ... 