And yet another exciting, ripple-inducing comedy evening, hosted by our emcee, PJ! PJ’s on a bit of a roll already, telling rip-roaring jokes about Europe, pensions and Brownies. Pretty sure that there’s a connection – somewhere – between this trio, but I’m a trifle distracted by the contortions of our emcee’s lips. Somehow the dipped-upperContinue reading “Grunts and Glurks at The Tap”
Category Archives: writing
Day 6.3: Doomed in Dawley
It’s almost 4pm, and the day is over before it has begun. Over with a trip down Memory Lane to Telford’s Tesco store. Has my ancestral home of Dawley been subsumed by a supermarket’s bid to take over the world? I came to Shropshire to find traces of my Dawley DNA, and I’m here drinkingContinue reading “Day 6.3: Doomed in Dawley”
Post-Humously Anonymous
Anon. A wise choice of name for a teacher. Especially for a teacher who, in his spare time (what spare time?), parades around pretending to be a comedian. A name that reeks of issues of disassociation with his true vocation as role-model for the young, as ‘surrogate parent’ for our nation of fatherless boys. FurtherContinue reading “Post-Humously Anonymous”
Existence
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com At night, I dive into whirlpools, slip-sliding and twizzling round and down, round and down, on pillow-seat into the depths and the coils of my mattress springs. At night, I spring into life, into my real existence, into my mortal world. If my mother were to meet me here, would sheContinue reading “Existence”
Unfathomable
‘Glass’ image courtesy of Pixabay.com Look into me and rejoice! I am like nothing you have ever fathomed – as sharp as a slosh of vodka, infused with a wonky frown. And there, from my core, gaze the bubbles of fizz; eyeballs that squint through the haze, as they hey-nonny-nonny out the depths of myContinue reading “Unfathomable”
Plucked
Flat roofed garages, expanding up, over and beyond; consuming abandoned cars and tarmacked roads; foundations dug deep, where roots should burrow. Vast seas of greyness, housing nothing of use; no householder steps over concrete slabs of pavements; rivers dividing breath from the abandoned depths of simple storage solutions. Godly hand reaches down from blue skyContinue reading “Plucked”
Expiration
Expiration is not my desire. ‘Autumn Tree’ by Jay Cool To don an orange wig is not to wear a portent, or to be tree laden with oranges midst autumn leaves of speckled brown, muted tan or luminous yellow; a sign of the seasons, confused, muddled and merging into one. For years and years, IContinue reading “Expiration”
Audacious
‘Books’ image courtesy of Pixabay.com You need to start thinking, my good husband said. You must make a plan; you must think ahead! All of those books that you know you possess The kids will not want them – they’ll just make a mess! I realise he’s right, and I do start to think. HowContinue reading “Audacious”
Poppy
‘Poppy on East Hill, Sudbury’ by Jay Cool Poppy is a blood-red word, No pulse, now lost No heartbeat, hampered Called out for World War’s cost. Yet poppies, red and proud, Sit high atop Linen suits in crowds Giving life to men’s non-stop Legs that march to beat of drum As sockets swing Arms,Continue reading “Poppy”
Eggshell
‘Hand’ image courtesy of Pixabay.com Let me go to the window Where the rainfall sloshes from joint Of broken pipe Down eggshell-cracked rendering Of outer wall Let me feel a little life Where my teardrops slip-slide from whites Of bloodshot sight Down eggshell-cracked rendering Of outer skin Give me a lover O you gods thatContinue reading “Eggshell”
The Silly-Savvy Salopian in Suffolk: read, believe and write ... 