If I say what I think, I make you all cross. If you say what you think, your face lights up. Why, then, I think, should we not all say what we think? I think it, but I don’t say it. To say what I think would make everyone cross. Crowds of people, lit facesContinue reading “I think, therefore I …”
Category Archives: Silly-Savvy Poems
Half-Born
Inside my outer layer is a little girl, another version of myself, being half-born again and again, never quite making it to the outside – just hesitating, just thinking about it; mulling it over, before … burrowing back in. Copyright owned by Jay Cool, February 2019 Image courtesy of Pixabay.com Inspired byContinue reading “Half-Born”
Rage
directed at me your rage serves no-one but your shadow where I stood Copyright owned by Jay Cool, February 2019 Image courtesy of Pixabay.com
Exposure
Sweat clams up my facial pores, drowning my being in a deluge of fast-playing age, like a sweaty-sibling’s palm, it taunts me, blocks my immediate vision and blurs out the splayed-out fingers on its periphery. Its a winter midnight but, even so, I fling off my summer-togged duvet, and sit up – abruptly; willing myContinue reading “Exposure”
Swallow and Spit
If I swallow myself, will I forever preserve all of the books I have read and not read? If the read books go straight through me, will the not-read books be digested slowly? If the words are sifted and sorted into the ordered files of my inner being, can they be mixed up; mixedContinue reading “Swallow and Spit”
Amber Folk
‘amber folk sipping gold sun through skin’ (line 5 of ‘to be considered before inviting everyone to the cookout’ by Rasheed Copeland) Red, amber and green, and if you want the ultimate, go for purple and think not in amber. Amber is a middling goal, a goal parading as gold. To go for purpleContinue reading “Amber Folk”
Embrace
Reaching out to still-retreating goal, I pull it back and yank it in. If I am a dozy-dreamer, I salute my vision and embrace it. I create this life. Copyright owned by Jay Cool, February 2019 Inspiration taken from the phrase ‘still-retreating goal’, line 12, of the poem ‘The Mortal Lease: II’, by EdithContinue reading “Embrace”
Trickling
As film-hazed eyes give up, quilted-thin mountains subside, and book-filled volcanoes erupt, spilling out pages of missed-words, that vi for last-chance attention, all imprint-hopes dashed and swept away by a trickle tumbling out of a corner-lip, and forming a hot-bubbling larva, pooling on a pillow, patiently awaiting for a rosy-pink snout to blast outContinue reading “Trickling”
About this blog …
A Salopian exile writes her way out of a dark and dingy sandstone cave … and ends up composing her best poems – accompanied by a pot of tea and a motley collection of portraits – whilst hogging a large table to herself, in a Prado Lounge Café.
A Salopian Contender for Hippocrates Prize!
Your favourite eccentric transforms her aches and pains into contenders for the Hippocrates Prize for Poetry and Medicine (somebody out there, peruse the other posts in ‘This Physical Thing’ category, i.e. take pity on the poor!). Copyright owned by Jay Cool, February 2019
The Silly-Savvy Salopian in Suffolk: read, believe and write ... 