Category Archives: Silly-Savvy Poems

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”

Batted

Disclaimer: This post is primarily to share my own poetry, but it does contain an affiliate link to a poetry collection by John Gallaher. If you choose to purchase Gallaher’s book, I will receive a commission at no cost to yourself. ‘What’s it like to be a bat?’ he asks. And then, before I canContinue reading “Batted”

Squashed In Between

At the end of the page I put my hand up and told, “I’ve finished the page, Miss! What do I do now?” “Stop shouting out!” she shouted. “And don’t ask silly questions!” So, I sat there for a while, not knowing what next to do. “Keep writing!” shouted Miss. “No-one’s told you to stop.”Continue reading “Squashed In Between”

Let Me Believe

  Mortgages and wages and pensions are but pennies to be dished out in alleyways; out and into the woolly-pavement hat of a homeless bidder. Keys clanging, I go forth into my own future, in search of my not-quite-paid-up-for car. Croaking and spluttering, it, and I, start, spit and pause awhile, chewing on our hopesContinue reading “Let Me Believe”

Minpreself

Be mindful. Be in the moment. Live only in the present and  present yourself to the world. I present myself: a wonky mouth, a turned-in knee, a painful toe and a few grey hairs and I like it. And the books that surround me, piled up on desks, in tubs and in corners like whatContinue reading “Minpreself”

Lobbed

  “What goes on inside your head?” says she. My head? I consider heading off the question, so I do. I laugh, and head off up the corridor, keeping up appearances, not being quite right, not being at all right, not being right – in my head. Screwed up paper, a massive ball of it,Continue reading “Lobbed”