Disclaimer: If you choose to purchase, via the link to Amazon, the book associated with this poem, I will receive a commission – at no cost to yourself. Today. Today, as I await my special breakfast, my special for-being-a-mother breakfast, I will read all of the books I bought yesterday – well, perhaps just oneContinue reading “Today: A Poem Inspired by Matt Haig”
Category Archives: Beyond My Myddle
Something Important
Today, she is told; today, she is surplus to requirements; no longer required in the gap between the squeeze to make a profit. Squished and squashed, until she can slip through the gap unscathed, she lands – plop – into a freshly-ploughed field. Fertilised, nourished and watered, she feels, for the first time, that sheContinue reading “Something Important”
Tape With A Heart
Turns out that to be approaching fifty is to be backtracking to forty, taking a look at the unpaid-for mortgage, and trying to fast-forward to sixty, before being trapped somewhere in the Continue reading “Tape With A Heart”
The Long Moment
Longing for a long moment to come to be shorter, he demands to know, ‘How long?’ and receives no reply, just the elongating sound of silence, stretching out, out and stabbing into his head, his thoughts, his freedom to remain encapsulated and undisturbed, and his freedom to be momentarily himself, a freedom now lost foreverContinue reading “The Long Moment”
Dippy Bit
I slice the top off my soft-boiled breakfast egg and watch as the little crackly bits start to cave in. But its a start-stop moment. Most of the cracklies find themselves held back by a sticky membrane. Have the cracklies been saved from a great fall into a disaster zone, or have they beenContinue reading “Dippy Bit”
Intimidation
The years advance and she backtracks, shrinking and shrivelling, arthritic hips, knee-joints and feet, reducing her movements to the crunching of a shovel, scraping upon gritted concrete. She thinks that she is insignificant now, passing through middle age to a lesser existence, to an existence of otherness. Others, though, others see her in all ofContinue reading “Intimidation”
Happiness
Happiness – the substance of my life. The hapless old friend who comments on my blog posts, thoughtfully emailing me my response options, which include: cider, ha ha, and thanks! The app I’m told to install for discounts on Indian takeaways from Aysha; The tacking pins embedded in the paint-stained carpet of my creativeContinue reading “Happiness”
Passaged
Bundled. Bundled and bundling out of one’s passage, they fall. All woolled-up, and tangled-up with each other – tight. Heads protruding from sheaths. Translucent and streaked with blood. With one’s own blood. From the blood within the passage from whence they tumbled, all bundled-up and packaged. All packaged-up and white, I vomit, bundles and bundlesContinue reading “Passaged”
Corrugated
Hands. Skin of middle-age – corrugated. Not quite attractive, but just enough, to keep the rain out – to keep the muscles, and the bones, inside, but not enough, to prevent the veins from bobbling on out of my me-ness. Copyright owned by Jay Cool, March 2019 Image by RonPorter, courtesy ofContinue reading “Corrugated”
A Continental Appearance
Wearing last Friday’s incontinence pad, he ambles on into a game-playing cafe in Colchester, thinking to play with the crowds. The crowds, thinking otherwise, disperse and exit. Out in the streets of a Roman stronghold, a centurion gives his orders, and the games continue; continental soldiers, with drip-drying-dangly bits, and wiped-with-shared-sponges bottoms, being impervious. Continue reading “A Continental Appearance”
The Silly-Savvy Salopian in Suffolk: read, believe and write ... 